<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868</id><updated>2011-07-30T14:13:50.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nashville Bound</title><subtitle type='html'>Journal of my adventures in Music City.  Begins with my planning, packing and moving from Maryland - the only home I've known - to the exciting yet unknown culture of Music Industry.  Stay with me as I give you every last detail!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>87</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-1982134773132342858</id><published>2008-10-10T10:48:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T11:00:40.319-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How We Get Through a Friday Morning!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9ttCnHAxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/zhdX-Mkkk78/s1600-h/319973379_1091985642_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9ttCnHAxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/zhdX-Mkkk78/s200/319973379_1091985642_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255539910727107346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9rjjP0N3I/AAAAAAAAABY/Esf-VQHIvN8/s1600-h/319973379_1091985643_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9rjjP0N3I/AAAAAAAAABY/Esf-VQHIvN8/s200/319973379_1091985643_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255537548665829234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my coffee drink selection, I have gotten to the point where I pretty much need it in the morning!&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I am not the only one that loves the Starbucks doubleshot energy coffee. David likes the Mocha, I'm a Vanilla girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9t32e-BfI/AAAAAAAAACA/29OTpdNjCAs/s1600-h/319973379_1091985641_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9t32e-BfI/AAAAAAAAACA/29OTpdNjCAs/s200/319973379_1091985641_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255540096450299378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jessica likes her Starbucks as well but it looks like she is drinking it from a bucket! That's seriously the biggest coffee cup I've ever seen!I love &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9snY07sbI/AAAAAAAAABw/trNYaoRT5q8/s1600-h/319973379_1091985640_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9snY07sbI/AAAAAAAAABw/trNYaoRT5q8/s200/319973379_1091985640_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255538714099823026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shannon's picture. not only does she need a whole POT but the counter is lined with Vodka bottles. That might be why she needs the whole pot! :)Well happy Friday everyone. Hope you have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-1982134773132342858?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/1982134773132342858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=1982134773132342858&amp;isPopup=true' title='40 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/1982134773132342858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/1982134773132342858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-we-get-through-friday-morning.html' title='How We Get Through a Friday Morning!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO9ttCnHAxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/zhdX-Mkkk78/s72-c/319973379_1091985642_0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>40</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-5793686954559615005</id><published>2008-10-09T11:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T11:56:57.506-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moms Have That Way About Them!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO4j-0aWGtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/2CRkJlLZasw/s1600-h/100_2303.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO4j-0aWGtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/2CRkJlLZasw/s200/100_2303.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255177377315953362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My mother and I decided that we needed to have a set night to chat every week so that we can stay current on everything that is going on in our lives. Thank God we have this arrangement.&lt;br /&gt;In the past I have had a bad habit of not telling my mother and sisters any personal details about my life that I feared they would question me on or disapprove of (LONG STORY). I can admit the issues with that plan and even offer the excuses as to why I do it, but it will always be a battle of trust for me to completely open up to them. But last night I had an amazing mother daughter talk that really helped....really. My relationship with my mother as always been a strong one. We are so much alike on so many levels that she has always been a friend I can trust to have my best interest at heart without judging me or looking down on me for bad decisions.&lt;br /&gt;I have been in a "relationship" for a little over a year that I have not talked to my family  a lot about because I knew they would not fully approve. Bottom line is, I love him, but as my mother and I talked about at length I have to make sure he loves me enough to put me first. That is a question I have to ask him when he visits &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Murfreesboro&lt;/span&gt; in three weeks to sell his house. He took a job in North Carolina and has been gone since late July. Our relationship has kind of been in limbo and I keep going back and forth from feeling guilty and committed and free and single.&lt;br /&gt;Without going into extensive details about how hard this all is for me I'll keep this blog about my mother. What an amazing gift she is to my life. She has a look and even a tone I can pick up over the phone that makes my defenses melt and my core deep feelings are safe to slide out. That is a gift that good mothers never misuse. I see this quality in my sister as well. She is blessed to have a similar relationship with her daughter. The love and trust that is built between such a delicate relationship starts from childhood and is nurtured and mastered as both mothers and daughters grow older. I know that not every daughter has a mother like my nieces and myself, which makes me see to true gift in it. Mom, thank you for being there last night and not letting me sweep these feelings under the rug anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-5793686954559615005?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/5793686954559615005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=5793686954559615005&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/5793686954559615005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/5793686954559615005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2008/10/moms-have-that-way-about-them.html' title='Moms Have That Way About Them!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SO4j-0aWGtI/AAAAAAAAABQ/2CRkJlLZasw/s72-c/100_2303.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-6161738861990638599</id><published>2008-10-03T15:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T15:31:36.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My first Road Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOZyjza5BWI/AAAAAAAAABI/O1ENfU1anlk/s1600-h/725460532_s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOZyjza5BWI/AAAAAAAAABI/O1ENfU1anlk/s200/725460532_s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253011974798247266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I will be leaving tomorrow morning to head slightly north to Knoxville to visit a famous club called Cotton Eyed Joe. I will be meeting the owner, DJ and staff as well as taking lots of pictures and videos. When I'm not "working" my butt will be LINE DANCING! I tell you all about it when I get back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-6161738861990638599?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/6161738861990638599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=6161738861990638599&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/6161738861990638599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/6161738861990638599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-first-road-trip.html' title='My first Road Trip'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOZyjza5BWI/AAAAAAAAABI/O1ENfU1anlk/s72-c/725460532_s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-5017783134313952549</id><published>2008-10-01T10:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T11:02:30.907-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gross Way to Start the Day</title><content type='html'>So I ride with a carpool every day to work to help with the cost of gas. The two guys I drive with don't work in my office, they work down the street but are really great guys. I actually took over for  Jon when he changed jobs. Jon and I get a long very well and he is a cool guy. He and his wife are from Virginia and were music majors so we have a lot in common.  The other guy is also very nice but SMELLS! This morning was the worst! From the second I got in the car I smelled it and did not know how I was going to make it the 45 minute drive into the city. I sat in the back seat with my jean jacket over my month breathing in the scent of my dryer sheet instead of the BUTT smell that filled the jeep! About 20 minutes in, that wasn't good enough so I had to crack the window. I wanted to throw my head out the window like my puppy and just taste clean air. This is the smelly guy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOOP9WU0-9I/AAAAAAAAABA/cuxyIvld-cY/s1600-h/317609726_1083407764_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOOP9WU0-9I/AAAAAAAAABA/cuxyIvld-cY/s320/317609726_1083407764_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252199874571860946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-5017783134313952549?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/5017783134313952549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=5017783134313952549&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/5017783134313952549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/5017783134313952549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2008/10/gross-way-to-start-day.html' title='Gross Way to Start the Day'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOOP9WU0-9I/AAAAAAAAABA/cuxyIvld-cY/s72-c/317609726_1083407764_0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-6257759316728554666</id><published>2008-09-29T11:27:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T11:55:08.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Suffering from a Case of the Mondays!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOD1yWsE4II/AAAAAAAAAAo/pVJn7A9MO9c/s1600-h/317103613_1081573077_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOD1yWsE4II/AAAAAAAAAAo/pVJn7A9MO9c/s320/317103613_1081573077_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251467410946711682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Mondays are the death of me! The list to the left is my call/email sheet for the day. The additional had written list is other tasks that I need to do today. Why is it that Monday, the one day of the week I really don't want to be at work, I have the most to do? I think it is evil how that worked out.&lt;br /&gt;This week will be all about finding NEW clients. I start traveling this weekend and I MUST increasing our billing to pay for all the trips I've booked. So if you know of a brand new country dance song that has not been released to radio yet, let me know ASAP!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOD3oaENBFI/AAAAAAAAAAw/mT1vzelZZJ0/s1600-h/317104960_1081578024_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOD3oaENBFI/AAAAAAAAAAw/mT1vzelZZJ0/s320/317104960_1081578024_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251469439077778514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my breakfast of champions since I            &lt;br /&gt;have not yet gone to the store. I guess I should&lt;br /&gt;go head and add that to my "To Do" list for the&lt;br /&gt;day! :)&lt;br /&gt;It ended up being a busier weekend than I thought, so grocery shopping was put on the back burner. My roommate's sister got married on Saturday and since I have become part of the family I had a lot to do! I was mostly the father of the brides personal assist. Everything from helping him pick up the beer keg foe the reception to putting on his cuff links! But I have to admit, I love being considered part of the family and I love having a father figure around.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOD5jGfLQ5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/LbIAkFfrQYY/s1600-h/8newarchrotunda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOD5jGfLQ5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/LbIAkFfrQYY/s320/8newarchrotunda.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251471546946110354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where the wedding was held...beautiful right? I wish I had a picture of Stacy's dress....it was gorgeous. Her bridesmaids dresses were chocolate and campaign just like my sister's were back in July. Guess that's the "in" colors this year!&lt;br /&gt;Well I better get back to work, I have a long list to get through!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-6257759316728554666?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/6257759316728554666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=6257759316728554666&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/6257759316728554666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/6257759316728554666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2008/09/suffering-from-case-of-mondays.html' title='Suffering from a Case of the Mondays!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/SOD1yWsE4II/AAAAAAAAAAo/pVJn7A9MO9c/s72-c/317103613_1081573077_0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-8442137541880753289</id><published>2008-09-26T11:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T11:46:51.064-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adventure has Proven to be a SUCCESS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://a464.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/102/l_14b3b7caa3b00a9ab17ebb338713aaf7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://a464.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/102/l_14b3b7caa3b00a9ab17ebb338713aaf7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two and a half years of working two jobs and going to school I was finally offered a job in the music industry. It wasn't a job I thought I ever wanted or even knew existed for that matter, but it was a foot in the door with a great company that I was NOT going to pass up. I've spent the last almost six months learning the best ways to do my job. It is an ever evolving adventure full of opportunities for me to think outside the box!&lt;br /&gt;This is a picture of me when I got my business cards! I'm sitting at my new desk where I have since then taken a LOT of pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been writing a blog on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;MYSPACE&lt;/span&gt; page for the last two years but now that EVERYONE I know is a "friend" on there I have had to sensor most of my blogs. I know that Ex-boyfriends and mere &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;acquaintances&lt;/span&gt; are able to view my page and I feel like it has become away to keep tabs on people.  That is not the reason I started writing. I wanted a place where I can vent, seek advice, and be creative so I think I'll spend a little more time in your company instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-8442137541880753289?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/8442137541880753289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=8442137541880753289&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/8442137541880753289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/8442137541880753289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2008/09/adventure-has-proven-to-be-success.html' title='The Adventure has Proven to be a SUCCESS'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-116170911832818313</id><published>2006-10-24T12:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T13:04:00.133-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dart Masters</title><content type='html'>I had an absolutely wonderful weekend. Jessica came to visit from Memphis on Friday. When she got into twon, she met me at work.  She, Jackie and I went out to Coconut Bay and had a few drinks. We just laughed and talked all night. A few other friends from work met us and we all laughed and even danced a bit. Since I didn't have dinner and don't drink like I used too, the night ended when I started to feel sick. :o(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, Jessica met me at work and we had dinner together and then got into Nashville around midnight. This was the first time I could take her to ALL the bars in Nashville since she finally turned 21 in August. We went to our favorite few bars and met some interesting people (that's for sure). I guess there was a computer software convention in Nashville this week because those were the only people we met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday we slept in late and just did laundry until around 5 when we met Jackie for dinner at Bonefish. I love my Outback discount! We stayed up there for a few hours until I had to go to our Pre-concert rehearsal at school. I was sure I was going to be the most overdressed person on stage, but I love dressing up for concerts and, well I looked good! Jessica and Jackie came to my concert. It was really nice to play in front of an audience again. Unfortunately I'm sick so I coughed through one piece. :o( Oh well! It happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the concert, and after I changed, we went to play darts at the corner bar that everyone goes to. Jackie and I started playing doubles with two regulars and we got HOOKED! We were throwing really well and having a lot of fun. Unfortunately Jackie and her partner won four out of five games. My partner and I played well and had a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is back to normal now though. Jessica left yesterday and I have work and school. Thursday in Open House at the day care so I get to decorate the room real nice and spend time with all the parents. It should be nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-116170911832818313?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/116170911832818313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=116170911832818313&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/116170911832818313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/116170911832818313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/10/dart-masters.html' title='Dart Masters'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-116067180848220051</id><published>2006-10-12T12:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T12:50:08.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Guess I Knew it Would Happen</title><content type='html'>Current mood: optimistic&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm getting older, it's about that time when past lovers will be moving on and marrying. I don't know why it hurts women so much when their Ex's get married before them. Maybe there is a part of me that expects him to love me forever, even though I moved out here and left him. Maybe it's because I think I should marry first. I left him for a better life and at this point I don't know if this is a better life, just a different one that I'm more proud of. He is marrying the one person that I really don't like. We let her live with us when she was down on her luck, and Bren got her a job at his work. I guess that's where it all started. At that time I thought I'd be marrying him, but as it turned out, that's where he MET his wife. That sure will be an interesting story to tell the grand kids. :o)&lt;br /&gt;So it's time to erase his number from my phone, e-mail from my address book, and pictures from my computer. I haven't spoken with him since last December so there is really no need for all that information anyway. I guess I just kept it, just in case he needed me or I needed him. But even in my lowest state last year I knew he was not the one to call. So what was I saving it for? The history we had maybe? Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, here are some weekly updates.&lt;br /&gt;1. Keep my friend Amy in your prayers, he lost her Grandfather the other day. I love you sweet heart and will call you today.&lt;br /&gt;2. Jessica Braley is coming to visit next week, I'm really excited.&lt;br /&gt;3. My first orchestra concert is next sunday (the 22nd). I'm excited to play in front of an audience again. If you are free, I'd love it if you came to see me.&lt;br /&gt;4. I got a B on my promotions test and on my Legal Problems test. Good Job!&lt;br /&gt;That might be it. :o)&lt;br /&gt;5. I'm going out to dinner with Crystal from the daycare today and then Karaoke tonight. Good Times!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-116067180848220051?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/116067180848220051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=116067180848220051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/116067180848220051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/116067180848220051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-guess-i-knew-it-would-happen.html' title='I Guess I Knew it Would Happen'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-116006899029884325</id><published>2006-10-05T13:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T13:24:20.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything Has Changed</title><content type='html'>It has been a year and two months since I moved to Tennessee. I have to say that I have been through a lot of growing up. I started off by trying disparately to have friends and men. That crashed and burned. Then I had a burst of self motivation and finished the first semester with flying colors and landed an OK job teaching at the day care. I met a great friend and started to center my life around school and just taking things one day at a time. I was still losing the fight in retaining my self worth. I ate a lot! I don't know it if was comfort food, stress, or just cause I had a friend to eat with. But none the less....It took over.&lt;br /&gt;Then the summer came. It was time for family vacation. I went into the week pretty confident. I thought this year my life was on the track that the family had agreed was the path for me so I thought I was in the clear. I guess your loved ones see things differently than you do. To spare you the details, I saw things very differently that week. I was very proud of the way I stayed calm but still expressed my self as clearly as I could. I stayed away from hurtful words since I knew it would not help. My uncertain future was in the spotlight and I've thought long and hard about how I feel about that. I can't tell you that I know where my life will take me in the next few years. I'm not sure if moving here wasn't a HUGE mistake, and I'm not sure if moving here taught me exacting what I needed to learn to be successful down the road. What I am sure of is that I'm proud of myself. I have enough money to pay off my debt, pay rent, have a semi-boring social life and put a little in savings. I have enough friends to support my semi-boring social life and I LOVE what I'm learning as a student and as a teacher. To all of those people who think you MUST have a solid grip on your life plan, I say, If that works for you, then go with it but don't knock down this dreamer.&lt;br /&gt;I register for an internship next month, and hopefully the resent project I have undertaken (which I choose to not mention until it is 100% successful) will be 75% complete. I also have been singing a lot more. I have been going to a few Open Mic nights around town and really enjoy the spotlight again. I guess that's enough for now. I'll do my very best to write more than twice a year. :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-116006899029884325?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/116006899029884325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=116006899029884325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/116006899029884325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/116006899029884325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/10/everything-has-changed.html' title='Everything Has Changed'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-114540018474550111</id><published>2006-04-18T18:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T18:43:04.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When is enough, enough?</title><content type='html'>Does the drama ever seriously end? Maybe I should have learned my lesson by now but instead I am just a target for drama. I am 25 years old and I have taken the position of babysitter for a 20 year old woman. I can’t figure this out. We have the same f*@king argument every time she drinks and the morning after I hear the same thing. I feel like a wife who gets slapped around by her husband but still sticks around the next morning to make him breakfast! When are the apologies not enough? I'm so much like my mother it scares me. I can't walk away from someone who I feel needs my help. &lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen the movie “The Mexican” with Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt? Well there is a scene when Julia Robert and her kidnapper have a conversation about her relationship with Brad Pitt. He asked her, “when two people really love each other but just can’t seem to get things right, when is enough, enough?” When do you give up? The correct answer is, never. Maybe that is true for the love of your life, but what about a best friend that you haven’t even known a full year?  After the past few weeks I just don’t know anymore. I asked her last night what she would do if she were me...she had no answer. I can’t keep forgiving this behavior because it makes it is OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is really vague but it would be unfair to share with you all my dirty laundry. If you do have any advice I would appreciate it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-114540018474550111?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/114540018474550111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=114540018474550111&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114540018474550111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114540018474550111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/04/when-is-enough-enough.html' title='When is enough, enough?'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-114520591019232639</id><published>2006-04-16T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T12:45:10.240-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Know it Has Been Awhile</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1452.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_1452.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I guess we should go back to March when Jessi came to visit. She got a long really well with Jessica and Katie and the four of us had an awesome time. We went into Nashville a few nights and also just relaxed here at the apartment. It was nice to have a friend from home here. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Since then I've been working like a crazy person! My classes this semester give be a lot of busy work (which I hate) and my Copyright Law class has been really kicking my butt. I have a HUGE project due tomorrow in my Artist Management class. My group had to develop a career plan for a new artist that had to have a detailed plan for the first two years of her career. Our artist is &lt;a href="http://www.trevamusic.com/"&gt;Treva Blomquist&lt;/a&gt;, check her out. I'm really loving this project because I've learned a ton of information, and I think this might be just the career path for me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1641.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_1641.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of my big sisters, AM, came to visit me last week. I can't tell you just how much I LOVED my time with her. I had her all to myself for four days and I just couldn't stop smiling. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She flew in Wednesday afternoon and we went to eat at Outback then just had a low key night with friends at the apartment. AM made up silly games to play and I felt like I was back in high school and I LOVED IT!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thursday morning I had to go to class but when I got home AM and I went to the park with Bailey and took it easy for the afternoon. That night we went to dinner, which our lovely mother paid for, at this super cute restaurant on the square in Murfreesboro. After dinner we went downtown to my favorite bar and just enjoyed the music and each other. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1646.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_1646.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Friday morning we got up just as early as we could (AM got up at 9:00 I couldn't get up until 11:00) and went to the Grand Ole Opry. We went into the museum there and just walked through the Opryland Mall. We couldn't stay long because I had to work at 5. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While I was at work AM watched movies and wrote a paper. When I finally got home we went to a local Bar &amp;amp; Grill and hung out with my friends from work. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Saturday morning I had to take her to the airport..I hate that part. Luckily I will be home in May. Next weekend I have another visitor! I can't wait. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-114520591019232639?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/114520591019232639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=114520591019232639&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114520591019232639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114520591019232639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-know-it-has-been-awhile.html' title='I Know it Has Been Awhile'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-114184834577816994</id><published>2006-03-08T14:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T15:05:45.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Server Dreams!</title><content type='html'>I can tell that I've been working too much when I start having server dreams. My usual one is that I keep walking past all the tables that have menus but that I haven't had time to say hello to yet. Then I go back to the kitchen and it takes be 20 minutes to gets drinks for one table! I keep thinking "why is it taking me so damn long to get these drinks?" I feel my blood pressure raise and the temperature in the room increasing, then my manager comes up to me and says, "Bobbe, you know you have all the tables upstairs too right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't seen to movie &lt;em&gt;Waiting&lt;/em&gt; you should really check it out especially if you have ever served before. There is a lot in that movie that is too close to the truth. Work last night really reminded me of it. A cook didn't show up for work so management was really pissy, steaks were being over cooked at almost every table and cook times in general were over 45 minutes. We had to comp off at least 5 tables entire meals and offer free desert to half a dozen other tables. It was just pure hell. I was closing and since it is spring break, all our older (better) servers are on vacation. Our very young staff tried hard, but there was yelling, crying, and lots of foul language. All we could do after work was grab a beer and laugh about how upset we get over tables that will be out of our lives in 45 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading mommak's blog today and she said that she gave her bull shit instructor the middle finger during a warm-up exercise and it made me laugh. When I deal with a table that is just over the top rude, I usually find a way to put the check down, pick up dishes, or wrap up food with my middle finger just so slightly pointing in their direction!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a word of caution, it isn't smart to piss off someone who touches your food!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-114184834577816994?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/114184834577816994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=114184834577816994&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114184834577816994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114184834577816994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/03/server-dreams.html' title='Server Dreams!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-114116752258308744</id><published>2006-02-28T17:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T18:00:04.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been a Hard Weekend</title><content type='html'>I went through something this weekend I hope no one has to go through in their lifetime. A good friend of mine is suffering from depression and she is acting out in ways I will never understand. Her inward pain is so deep that she needs to inflict her pain outwardly. This cry for help was not ignored. Her mental recovery will be long and tedious but she is lucky to have so many people that love her and want what is best for her.&lt;br /&gt;With her mother in town for a few days, my role as "deciding adult" is taken care of. It isn't on my shoulders anymore, I don't have to decide what is best for her, I get to be the friend that listens and provides a safe environment for recovery. I can't tell you how scared I was and now how relieved I am that I did the right thing and that she will be alright.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-114116752258308744?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/114116752258308744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=114116752258308744&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114116752258308744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114116752258308744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-been-hard-weekend.html' title='It&apos;s Been a Hard Weekend'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-114072419318362948</id><published>2006-02-23T14:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T14:49:53.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Do I Find the Time?</title><content type='html'>I've been working so hard to financially "stay afloat" that I barely have time to even sleep! Let me just fill you in on my typically week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Monday 7:30 a.m.- 2:30 p.m. teaching the Comets over at the day care. Come home and try to either walk, run, or do sit ups until it's time for my night class. Artist Management class from 6-9p.m. and then I come home and do homework until my eyes don't stay open anymore.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tuesday/Thursday 9:40- 11:00 a.m. I'm in Copyright Law class desperately taking notes. After that class I usually go home and do homework, clean, nap, or run errands. Then I'm back at school for my accounting class at 2:40 which is really a joke because I think I would get the same grade whether I went to class or not. After that torture I stay on campus and do home work for my night class. Tuesday nights I have Public Relations class and on Thursday nights I have Media Writing. Both classes require a LOT of writing. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wednesday/Friday 7:30 a.m. - 2:30 p.m. I'm back with the angels making paper puppets or cotton ball snow men. Once I leave there I usually ran home to change and go to Outback for job #2 of the day. I usually stay there until about 11 p.m. I, of course, crash the second I get home. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Saturday and Sunday should be relaxing but not for me! I work a double both days and try to wake up early to squeeze in some homework. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes staying busy keeps me more focused, but it also runs me crazy! Spring break is in two weeks and I keep hearing about all the wonderful places everyone is planning to go. White sandy beaches and beautiful blue water....While I told me boss at the day care and Out back that I can work every day that week! :o( I'm hoping that I can make some extra money while everyone else is having a well deserved vacation. It will all pay off eventually...Right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-114072419318362948?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/114072419318362948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=114072419318362948&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114072419318362948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114072419318362948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/02/where-do-i-find-time.html' title='Where Do I Find the Time?'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-114012719495746050</id><published>2006-02-16T16:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T16:59:54.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stand Back Up</title><content type='html'>I know I put song lyrics on here all the time but I'm a musician and I can't help but see my life in songs. This song jumped out at me because I feel like there are people that don't expect me to make it out here. I feel like they support my efforts but they are just getting ready to console me when I run home with my tail between my legs. I don't care if I have to take out three loans and go into credit card debt, I'm not going home. And for those that find it easy to pick on a girl when she's down I only have this to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Artist/Band: Sugarland&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lyrics for Song: Stand Back Up&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lyrics for Album: Twice the Speed of Life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Go ahead and take your best shot, Let 'er rip, give it all you've got, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm laid out on the floor, but I've been here before, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I may stumble, yeah I might fall, Only human aren't we all&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I might lose my way, but hear me when I say, I will stand back up, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You'll know just the moment when I've had enough, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes I'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;m afraid, and I don't feel that tough, But I'll stand back up,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've been beaten up and bruised, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've been kicked right off my shoes, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Been down on my knees more times than you'd believe,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;When the darkness tries to get me, Theres a light that just won't let me,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It might take my pride, and my tears may fill my eyes, But I'll stand back up, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've weathered all these storms, But I just turn them into wind, so I can fly, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What don't kill you makes you stronger, When I take my last breath,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;that's when I'll just give up, So,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;go ahead to take your best shot, Let 'era rip, give it all you've got, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You might win this round but you cant keep me down,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;cause I'll stand back up, And you'll know just the moment when I've had enough, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes I'm afraid and I don't feel that tough, But I'll stand back up, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You'll know just the moment when ive had enough, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes I'm afraid and I don't feel that tough, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I'll stand back up. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She talks about darkness not getting her down. Darkness is her depression, her own ego and her fear. I won't let those things beat me either. Some days the fear of money gets to me so much that I literally freak out. I never even had a credit card until I got out of college because I didn't want to have debt. Now I'm seriously thinking about taking out another loan just so I don't have to work THREE jobs! Katie and I are already looking at much cheaper apartments for next year, hopefully that will help. I can finally turn in my in-state tuition request (had to be living here eight months first) so that's one more thing that should help. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I changed my room around today. For anyone that knows me that is a good sign. It is a "rebirth" and a huge effort to have a different outlook. My hands are still throbbing from moving my heavy bedroom furniture by myself. I was going to go to the gym this afternoon, but I think I've lifted enough for today! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-114012719495746050?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/114012719495746050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=114012719495746050&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114012719495746050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114012719495746050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/02/stand-back-up.html' title='Stand Back Up'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-114003790491033974</id><published>2006-02-15T15:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T16:11:44.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Awesome Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Jessica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/Jessica.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/jessicambraley"&gt;Ms. Jessica&lt;/a&gt; is from Memphis, Tenn. and lives in the apartment complex in front of mine. I love it because I get to see her just about everyday. She and I met at Outback, she is a server as well, and we hit it off right away. Ever since I went back to work after Christmas we have been talking, and as of three weeks ago, we are inseparable. Bad news is, she will be moving back to Memphis this summer to finish dental school. I know she and I will do the best with the time we have, but I've started to lean on her so much when Katie, my roommate and only real friend, was highly involved with her band and was never here. This is a little bit about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"My name is Jessica, and I am 20 years old. I've lived in the 'Boro for a little over a year. I'm not taking any classes this semester, I'm working instead. I'm a pre-dental major, and I'll be done with school in 2012. I have a puppy named Camille, she's really sweet. A lot of work, but still sweet. I work at Outback Steakhouse as a server and Pottery Barn. My family still lives in Memphis, and I'm moving back there in June. The 'Boro is great, but I want to be closer to my family, and I have to go back for dental school anyway. I plan on tearing it up my last few months here! "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night she was my wine partner and we fell asleep watching "Breakfast at Tiffany's." Tonight I'm working for her so she can have a Valentine's date with her boyfriend. I hope you can check out her site and say a little hello.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-114003790491033974?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/114003790491033974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=114003790491033974&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114003790491033974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/114003790491033974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-new-awesome-friend.html' title='My New Awesome Friend'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113996077454573781</id><published>2006-02-14T18:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T18:46:14.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>I haven't met a man yet who has done Valentine's Day like the men in the movies do. I know it is a Hallmark holiday, but I still like it. I was supposed to have a dinner date last Saturday that was going to be close to a Valentine's date, but by the time he and I got together, it was past dinner time. Sunday night he met a few of my friends and I realized that there are some people that you just can't put in the same room together. Last night we had plans to see each other one last time before he went back on tour with Bon Jovi. I was excited to have a Valentine's date....but no. We watched Law &amp; Order until he fell asleep around 11:30. I got a few hugs, but not even a kiss! I have to say I was disappointed. If I ever said anything to him about this he would just say, “well you could have taking any kisses you wanted.” He misses the point. I don’t want to have to take anything.  Here is the question though. I know him well enough already to know that he is just the kind of guy that is really honest and doesn't play games. I would not have been there if he didn't want me there. BUT I also know myself well enough to know that that just isn't good enough! He and I joke about this. He said "How close do you expect a relationship to be to perfect?" I said "97%" Is that outrageous? Are my expectations just too high? Even though I know he cares about me and I know that in his mind things are right on course for a new relationship, but if he doesn't act or react the way I expect my "future husband" to, what do I do? He is older than me and won't change his ways and I don't have time to train him anyway. So does that mean I have to walk away? I always walk away. For once I'd like to actually just date and not over think all this! I guess I’m just not built that way.&lt;br /&gt;It's fucking Valentine's Day and I got a shit load of candy, cards and even flowers from my comets (that's the name of the three year old room) but not even a "Happy Valentine's Day" from Bon Jovi guy. He does have a name, but I think he'd prefer if I didn't use it. I sometime feel bad for guys on this holiday, but I think it is really simple. Just get some flowers, a nice card and give her a damn kiss and you'll be set! Anything beyond that is awesome but not necessary. We just want to feel special! Girls do have some obligation today. My first long term boyfriend, Dave, and I started dating right before Valentine's Day so I couldn't get him anything really lovie dovie so I got him a six pack of beer with a red bow and Camel cigarettes attached to a card. He loved it! (What does that tell you about him??? )&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I think we need to remember what this holiday is about. I asked my comets what we were supposed to do today and after a few very WRONG answers (which included dressing up like batman and blowing out candles on a cake) we finally got to the RIGHT answer. Today we are supposed to tell the people close to us that we love them and appreciate them. So, I love all of you that read my blog and truly care about my success out here. I really don't know if I would wake up some days without you. This is what this gay ass holiday should be about (but flowers would be nice too).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113996077454573781?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113996077454573781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113996077454573781&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113996077454573781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113996077454573781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113951134444786358</id><published>2006-02-09T13:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T18:58:54.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Week Three with the 3 year olds</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Working with three year olds has proven to be very entertaining. In my class of 18 kids and just us two adults, things do tend to get a little crazy. Mondays are usually the worst since the kids have been at home and away from our rules. The percentage of time-outs is higher and nap time is usually extended due to bad behavior. By Friday though, the kids are sharing more, using their words to express feelings, and generally saying "thank you" and "excuse me." It is also very clear why I can't get over my cold.&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/snot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.marchantcards.com/images/catalog/6784.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.marchantcards.com/cgi-bin/Cards/6784.html&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;h=344&amp;w=388&amp;amp;sz=17&amp;tbnid=KPs1BIi1iwAdaM:&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;tbnh=105&amp;tbnw=119&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;start=110&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3DGarbage%2BPal%2BKids%26start%3D100%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D%26sa%3DN"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.marchantcards.com/images/catalog/6784.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.marchantcards.com/cgi-bin/Cards/6784.html&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;h=344&amp;w=388&amp;amp;sz=17&amp;tbnid=KPs1BIi1iwAdaM:&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;tbnh=105&amp;tbnw=119&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;start=110&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3DGarbage%2BPal%2BKids%26start%3D100%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D%26sa%3DN"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.marchantcards.com/images/catalog/6784.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.marchantcards.com/cgi-bin/Cards/6784.html&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;h=344&amp;w=388&amp;amp;sz=17&amp;tbnid=KPs1BIi1iwAdaM:&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;tbnh=105&amp;tbnw=119&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;start=110&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3DGarbage%2BPal%2BKids%26start%3D100%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D%26sa%3DN"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On Monday, Nathan was in time-out at the teacher table. He was fake crying so we paid him no attention. Finally I did happen to look at him and I saw the most disgusting thing I think I may have ever witnessed. His head was inches away from the table and he was pulling long strings of snot out of his nose and making a pile of it on the table. When I called his name to get him to stop he looked up at me with snot falling out of his nose and gliding off his fingers. I nearly said "What the Hell are you doing you nasty kid?" but instead I calmly told him to get a tissue and never play with his snot again! I had to then clean him and the table.&lt;br /&gt;If that wasn't enough, we have a delightful young girl named Nicole. I guess her parents have decided that verbal skills are not that important. All she knows how to do is point, grunt, and cry. We are constantly telling her to use her words to express her feelings because without them we can't help her. Well she woke up from her nap but stayed face down on her mat. She started crying and grunting but we had no idea what the problem was. Finally I picked her up to try to calm her down and I realized what the problem was. She had forgotten to get up to use the bathroom. This wasn't just number 1! So I had to find some clean clothes and clean her off. I was so grossed out. When my nieces were younger I had no problem changing even the dirtiest of diapers, but I guess since these kids are not related to me and since they are at an age that this shouldn't be an issue, I'm completely grossed out. Even when the kids call me in the bathroom to help them wipe after a messy number 2, I am somewhat disgusted. I guess this is motivation to not stay in childcare my whole life.&lt;br /&gt;They do have their moments when they completely impress me though. Last Friday I was the head teacher and everything went so smoothly. We talked about manors and sharing. I complimented the kids whenever they did anything well and I wrote notes home to their parents about their successful day. When the afternoon teacher came to take my place, the kids all hugged me and said they loved me and would miss me. I left with a very big smile on my face. So this job has it's moments of disgust and pure love, but I still would never make this my full time career. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113951134444786358?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113951134444786358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113951134444786358&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113951134444786358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113951134444786358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/02/week-three-with-3-year-olds.html' title='Week Three with the 3 year olds'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113825463630028146</id><published>2006-01-30T00:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T13:32:51.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Isn't</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Life isn't about keeping score.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's not about how many friends you have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or how accepted tou are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Not about if you have plans thei weekend or if you're alone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It isn't about who you're dating, who you used to date, how many people you've dated, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;or if you haven't been with anyone at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It isn't about who you have kissed, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's not about sex.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It isn't about who your family is or how much money they have,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or what kind of car you drive,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or where you are sent to school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's not about how beautiful or ugly you are, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or what clothes you wear, what shoes you have on, or what kind of music you listen to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's not about if your hair is blonde, red, black, or brown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or if your skin is too light or too dark. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Not about what grades you get, how smart you are, how smart everybody else thinks you are, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or how smart standardized tests say you are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's not about what clubs you're in or how good you are at "your" sport. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's not about representing your whole being on a piece of paper and seeing who will "accept the written you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LIFE JUST ISN'T&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But, life is about who you love and who you hurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's about who you make happy or unhappy purposefully. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's about keeping or betraying trust. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's about friendship, used as a sanctity or a weapon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's about what you say and mean, maybe hurtful, .amybe heartening.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ABout starting rumors and contributing to petty gossip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's about what judgments you pass and why. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;AND WHO YOUR JUDGMENTS HURT&lt;/div&gt;%3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113825463630028146?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113825463630028146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113825463630028146&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113825463630028146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113825463630028146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/01/life-isnt.html' title='Life Isn&apos;t'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113859723857486419</id><published>2006-01-29T23:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T00:00:38.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love vs. Companionship</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="blogSubject"&gt;I remember the first time I brought a boyfriend home to meet my grandmother. I was a sophomore in college and Dave had been my boyfriend for nearly eight months. Nana and I never got along when I was growing up, mainly because I had a temper and she wanted me to be just like my two skinny blonde sisters. But that day she sat me down and asked me if I was serious about this guy. At the time I really thought I was. She said to me that I was at an age that I needed to date a few men at a time. To her that means allow them to take me to dinner or a movie, but nothing physical. At the time I thought she was nuts. I wanted to have one boyfriend and not worry about it anymore. I didn’t want to look any longer. But she was right! Every man I have chosen to have a relationship with, whether long term or short, brought me closer to understanding myself and what I want in a future husband. I have been blessed to have remarkable men in my past and I hope they know what gifts they have brought to my life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;But relationships do end! There is a distinct moment when a decision must be made about the future of the relationship. When a couple first meets, they start to learn all the surface level information. Then they spend a tremendous about of time together because they are still learning, still laughing, and still wanting each other. Things haven’t become routine yet and there most likely hasn’t been a fight. But eventually you peel off a few more layers and either find a more wonderful partner, or you find what I call “red flags.” “Red Flags” are signs I’ve already learned from previous failed relationships. For example, being controlling, overly jealous, untrustworthy, unmotivated, negative or uninspiring. When I see these red flags I usually try to ignore them at first because they aren’t important enough to end a relationship over. Eventually though, those little things eat at you and multiply. Then you must be honest with yourself and your partner, and stop things before people get really hurt. That’s hard sometimes because the comfort and friendship is the hardest to give up. To not have someone to call before you go to bed every night, and to not have someone care when you get off work or even if you’re sick. Yes, it’s hard to give that up…but that’s not love….that’s companionship. I don’t know a cure for that except to busy yourself with things that make you proud of you. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I speak from experience. I have put a man through hell, because I couldn’t let go of his friendship and he didn’t want to let go of his love for me. It wasn’t until recently that I finally told him he was right, that we couldn’t be friends. I hadn’t been fair to him and all I could do now was walk away and let him build a solid loving relationship with someone else. When we were in junior high we could remain friends with Ex-Boyfriends, but too much hope and trust is put into relationships at our age, and therefore it’s usually too painful to remain friends. My point in all this is that we can’t allow a partner to stay in our lives merely because we don’t want to be alone. Be honest with yourself and respect when others are doing the same. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113859723857486419?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113859723857486419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113859723857486419&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113859723857486419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113859723857486419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/01/love-vs-companionship.html' title='Love vs. Companionship'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113825656995382312</id><published>2006-01-26T00:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T01:26:47.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want them to know their Mother</title><content type='html'>On August 4th, 2000 I decided to write my to-be-children a letter. I wanted to write about myself at age 20, so that I can remember what I knew I could do at that age and to encourage them to see what they can do. I've decided that I want to write another letter, since so much has happened since then. These are a few highlights from the first letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I have picked your names and I envisioned your births. My body after twenty years is energetic, carefree, and full of passion. I dream all that I can and execute all that I dare. I'm at a rest stop in my life. I have the tools to complete my journey, an apartment, a car, excellent education, and support from both you grandparents and my lovely friends, but I have a long quest ahead of me. At this point I have plans to complete my undergraduate in music education at Towson, and then go on to graduate school in the Tennessee or Boston area. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wish I could tell you that I have already met your father and that I have known him for years. I wish I could tell you we are already thinking about you, but it seems as though I am having a hard time finding a man that is living up to our standards. I decided to write this letter for a few reasons. I'd like you to understand your mother, and I want to remember how I was when you reach this age. I'll rememeber that you are adults, not children. I'll remember how independent I felt and how confident in my dreams I was. My one goal for you all is that you will never back down from your dreams. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My dear children...I give you all of me. Every smile I smile is given to you to ensure your life-long happiness. Every tear I cry, I cry so you will cry one less. Every time doors are closed in my face I will fight to make sure they are open when you cross through them. Every harsh reality I experience, I welcome it to prolong your innocence. Every note, rhythm, melody, and song I produce will be inspired by your tender heats. Promise me you will love and respect each other long after I'm gone. Promise me you will support and counsel one another and more than aything, promise me you will follow your dreams! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was actually the very condensed version! I can't wait to write another chapter to this letter. I think it's important that my children know how it felt to move out here and how I actually succeded without too much heartache. I only wish I knoew what my mother was thinking when she went to the convent!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113825656995382312?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113825656995382312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113825656995382312&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113825656995382312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113825656995382312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-want-them-to-know-their-mother.html' title='I Want them to know their Mother'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113812596769542676</id><published>2006-01-24T12:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T13:06:07.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Day with 3 Year Olds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/day%20care.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/400/day%20care.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a crappy day here in Tennessee. It was rainy and absolutely nasty. I made it to the day care at 7:30 in the morning and the kids were wide awake and ready to go. The teacher I am replacing was there walking me through the day. We have 18 kids total in the class and these kids range from absolutely adorable and pretty horrible. There were two that I knew immediately would be a problem, Mr. Locus and Ms. MaKayla. They fight with the other kids every chance they get and unfortunately I think the other kids have been allowed to constantly wine so there is a huge scene every time misbehaver happens. I know that I will be a bit tougher on these kids than the last teacher, but I have know doubt they will love me for it.&lt;br /&gt;I was there five hours yesterday and I found that everything we did took more time to prepare than the actual event. It took us 30 minutes to get ready for morning snack, then 20 minutes to prepare for circle time, 45 minutes to clean up for lunch, and 45 minutes to settle down for nap time. That's two and a half hours just getting ready for things! I guess I'll get used to it, but I really felt like the time flew but we hardly accomplished anything!&lt;br /&gt;Now don't get me wrong, I absolutely loved every second of being with these kids. They remind me to look at the world in a much more creative way. You can't just ask 3 years olds to stay quite, you have to give them something more interesting to listen to. I enjoy the challenge and love the affection. Wednesday I will be there the full 8 hours so I wonder how I'll feel about things then. :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113812596769542676?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113812596769542676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113812596769542676&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113812596769542676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113812596769542676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-first-day-with-3-year-olds.html' title='My First Day with 3 Year Olds'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113782263239967987</id><published>2006-01-21T00:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T00:50:32.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My addiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/400/24.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my winter break a friend recommended that I rent a season of the show &lt;em&gt;24.&lt;/em&gt; I knew my sister was really into the show so I figured it was a good choice. Little did I know that I would become addicted to Jack Bauer! I rented the forth season thinking it was the first and got through all 24 episodes in two days. I ran out to the movie store in the middle of the night to rent the first season. Three days later I was back to rent the second. I'm now half way through the third season and the fifth season just aired last Sunday. I think I'm going to wait for the fifth season so come out on DVD because it's a lot easier to watch the show with no commercials. If you doing know anything about this show you are really missing out on what I think is the most innovating shows on television.&lt;br /&gt;My sister is a huge S&lt;em&gt;urvivor&lt;/em&gt; fan so I bet she knows what it's like to actually have dreams about the show (or maybe that's because I watched so many episodes in one day). What other shows are you addicted to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113782263239967987?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113782263239967987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113782263239967987&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113782263239967987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113782263239967987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-addiction.html' title='My addiction'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113774175917387724</id><published>2006-01-20T01:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T14:07:58.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wasted</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Carrie%20Underwood.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 117px" height="112" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/Carrie%20Underwood.jpg" width="105" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got this CD for Christmas and I can't stop listening to it. The first track is called &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wasted&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. I want you all to read the first verse and chorus...I love it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Standin' at the back door, she tried to make it fast. One tear hit the hardwood it felt like broken glass. She said sometimes love slips away and you just can't get it back, Let's face it. For one split second she almost turned around but that would be like pouring rain drops back into a cloud. So she took another step, said I see the way out and I'm going to take it. I don't wanna spend my life jaded, waiting to wake up one day and find that I let all these years pass by...Wasted. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This is the second song on the CD and in some ways it's even better. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't Forget to Remember Me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;18 years have come and gone For momma they flew by &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;But for me they just drug on We were loading up that Chevy Both tryin' not to cry Momma kept on talking Putting off good-bye Then she took my hand and said Baby don't forget Before you hit the highway You better stop for gas There's a 50 in ashtray In case you run short on cash Here's a map and here's a bible If you ever loose your way Just one more thing before you leave Don't forget to remember me This downtown apartment sure makes me miss home and those bills there on the counter Remind me I'm on my own And just like every Sunday I called momma up last night And even when it's not, I tell her everything's alright Before we hung up I said Hey momma, don't forget to tell my baby sister I'll see her in the fall And tell mee-mal that I miss her Yeah, I should give her a call And make sure you tell Daddy that I'm still his little girl Yeah I still feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be Don't forget to remember me Tonight I find myself kneeling by the bed to pray I haven't done this in a while So I don't know what to say but Lord I feel so small some times in this big ol' place I know there are more important things, but Don't forget to remember me Don't forget to remember me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This is one of those CDs that you can just put on repeat in your CD player. I wake up, get ready for school/work, and even fall alseep to this CD. It's worth investing in. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113774175917387724?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113774175917387724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113774175917387724&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113774175917387724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113774175917387724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/01/wasted.html' title='Wasted'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113770973794635022</id><published>2006-01-19T17:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T17:39:54.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Do I Even Begin?</title><content type='html'>I know it's been a long time since I written in my blog, but I decided to take care of a few things before I posted some updates. Since I've last posted, some awesome things have happened. Going home for Christmas taught me that I truly adore my mother. I spent most of my time with her and literally loved every second. We went out to eat, went shopping and stayed in to watch &lt;em&gt;Lifetime&lt;/em&gt; movies. I even got to spend some quality time with my Nana, which I usually avoid (since our history isn't the greatest) but I actually enjoyed listening to all of her stories.&lt;br /&gt;It's becoming more and more obvious to me that I belong here. Yes, going home and visiting is nice, but I'm making it work here. Monday was AM's birthday and just calling didn't feel like enough. She and I usually go out to brunch or go out for drinks, and not being there to share the day was a little sad. But again, I really feel like this was the right move.&lt;br /&gt;The first day of the Spring semester was Tuesday and I actually had friends on campus! I ran into at least seven people that I knew from work or other classes and for the first time I didn't feel so lonely and friendless. That's important to me since I have ALWAYS had plenty of friends. I guess it just takes while. My self esteem is getting back on track and has helped me relax and make better friends and get more stuff done. This is what I have accomplished in a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was granted Candidacy! So now I'm able to in enrolled in upper division classes like copyright Law, Artist Management, PR communications, Media Writing and Accounting. What a spring semester this will be!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I finally got another job! I will be starting some time next week &lt;em&gt;at Small &lt;/em&gt;Wonders child care center as a teacher in the 3 year old room. I'm so excited to work with kids again. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;For my PR class we have to find a nonprofit agency and represent them this semester. My duties will include providing them with Press Releases, Privacy Release forms, and any other basic PR work. I called the Domestic Violence Program here in Rutherford county and I have a meeting with them tomorrow to discuss the PR direction we will taking with their company! I'm completely thrilled!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm starting to feel like a completely different person. I'm becoming...Excited about school and the career it will lead me to. Every class I sit in this semester I wonder if this is the field I'll really take an interest in ( except for Accounting). I can't wait until Monday night when I have my Artist management class and if you have any Copyright questions, my professor literally wrote the book on it. We will be briefing cases this semester and will be treated like first year law students. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;With Katie living with me, my new job and no more car payments, I really think I'll be ok financially. In May I could work full time at the Day Care and full time at Outback...Then I'd make some serious money. So...I think the stressful and emotional adjustment period is coming to a close and now I'm just thrilled about why I'm here and I literally run home to do homework. That will probably wear off though. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113770973794635022?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113770973794635022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113770973794635022&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113770973794635022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113770973794635022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2006/01/where-do-i-even-begin.html' title='Where Do I Even Begin?'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113527010508353950</id><published>2005-12-22T11:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T17:32:54.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I did it!</title><content type='html'>CANDIDACY! To receive candidacy, recording Industry majors have to complete four core classes, at least 65 credits of gen. eds., and receive a C or better in College Algebra. The department then takes the average to the four classes, plus the Math and average of gen.eds. to create one number that is used to compare all candidacy applicants. They accept only the top 20% of those students into the program. If you do not receive candidacy the first time, you are recommended to retake either the math or some core classes to boost your overall score. Most people that I have met in my core classes were there retaking the class.&lt;br /&gt;I was able to apply for candidacy this semester since I have now completed the math, core classes and gen. ed. requirements. I was contacted yesterday by the dean of the department congratulating me on receiving CANDIDACY! :o) So I did it! All the social opportunities I passed up to study and all the note cards I took with me to work just to study, paid off! I guess I knew it would, I was just worried about how well all the other candidacy applicatants did. If their score was higher, than I wouldn't be in the top 20%! So...it's a good holiday now. I can relax and enjoy my time with friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;I finally did all my Christmas shopping yesterday. I wish I had more money to spend on my family...But I just had enough to buy one thing for everyone. I know it isn't about how much you spend, it's about being together...But I like to make people happy. Well Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113527010508353950?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113527010508353950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113527010508353950&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113527010508353950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113527010508353950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-did-it.html' title='I did it!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113492324144136322</id><published>2005-12-18T11:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T11:27:21.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have a Roommate!</title><content type='html'>Things have gotten VERY tight financially, so I've filled out about ten different job applications at local hotels to be a front desk clerk a few days a week. I thought that would be an easy day job that I might even be able to get a little reading for school done. I have my first interview tomorrow for Fairfield Inn, which is across the street from my Outback job! I'm keeping things really local. Wish me luck, receiving this job would be a nice note to end on before I fly home.&lt;br /&gt;I also have acquired a roommate! Katie had put a deposit down for an apartment with a friend of her's from home, and was scheduled to move in January 1st. Well last week her friend decided she won't be able to afford the apartment and wanted her deposit back. It was hell trying to get the money back and Katie didn't have enough time to find another option for living arrangements. So, my dining room is now her bedroom! We have moved my guitar, keyboard and microphone back into my bedroom and rearrangement the kitchen table to allow room for her bed and dresser. There is, surprisingly, enough room! I have a huge closet, that I now share, as well as space in the bathroom. She has already bought all kinds of things for OUR place. I drew up a little contract that I asked her to sign that just said she would pay about $200.00 a month towards the rent payment and other bills. I couldn't charge her half, since she lives in the dining room! But it will really help me financially and with Bailey. So it looks like things are going to be ok!&lt;br /&gt;I do have some bad news though. A really good friend of mine from home, Kateri, needs your thoughts and prayers. Her mother was diagnosed with cancer this fall ( I honestly can't remember what kind) and they have been doing multiple tests and procedures.  I received a message from Kateri last night that said her mother wasn't doing well. Her mother is just the kindest women I've ever met and it just breaks my heart to know what this family is going through, especially during the Christmas season. Please keep them in your thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113492324144136322?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113492324144136322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113492324144136322&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113492324144136322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113492324144136322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-have-roommate.html' title='I Have a Roommate!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113442784559458185</id><published>2005-12-12T17:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T15:13:40.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Exams Completed!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/math.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/math.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All weekend I have been working through 100 math questions in hopes that I would be more prepared for this final. I have never been very good in math but my test scores did get a little better each test. But still I need an 85% to keep my B. How good do you think your college algebra skills are? Check it out at, then you can check the answer key at &lt;a href="http://math.web.mtsu.edu/course_materials/1710_reviewsheet.html"&gt;http://math.web.mtsu.edu/course_materials/1710_reviewsheet.html&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://math.web.mtsu.edu/course_materials/1710_answerkey.html"&gt;http://math.web.mtsu.edu/course_materials/1710_answerkey.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I got together with a few of the "smart" people in my history of recording industry class to study for our final. We went over everything until 2:30 in the morning! I was VERY prepared for that final. I ended up getting a B in that class and a B in my Mass Media class. Today I took my survey of Recording Industry final and my teacher graded it for me and told me that I have a B in his class as well. So now I just need to know about my Audio of Media class and my Math class. I'm still worried about the Math though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But.....it's OVER! My first semester at MTSU is over. In about 7 days I find out if I can go on and take upper division classes in the recording industry program. Keep your fingers crossed!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113442784559458185?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113442784559458185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113442784559458185&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113442784559458185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113442784559458185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/12/exams-completed.html' title='Exams Completed!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113407278433779374</id><published>2005-12-08T14:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T15:13:04.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Semester is Almost Over</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was our last day of classes for the Fall semester. I have two finals in Monday and Tuesday and one on Wednesday. I think I have really been over doing myself though. I work everyday, go to school, study for exams, and constantly search for another job. I was contacted last Friday to interview for a position I was really interested in. It is a publicist position at a small independent music label called &lt;a href="www.dualtone.com"&gt;Dualtone&lt;/a&gt;. I was really excited and spent the weekend rewriting my resume and practicing what I would say. Tuesday at 3 pm was my interview time and I looked AWESOME. I was having a great hair day and I looked professional but trendy. The office was right on music row across the street from Sony/BMG headquarters. I walk in and met two gentlemen that work there and was told that the woman who was scheduled to interview me had to go to the hospital that morning due to complications with her pregnancy. I was so upset but I understood. So now I'm waiting for my interview to be rescheduled.&lt;br /&gt;I think all the stress has finally gotten to me physically. I was so productive this past week getting everything in order for next semester and my flight home for Christmas that now my body needs a break. I went into work last night for my 7th shift in a row and my stomach was quite upset but I thought I could work anyway. My first table ordered a bloomin' onion and the smell made my stomach turn and I knew I could not stay there. My boss was really great and let me go home. Katie came over with medicine and Kassi dropped off some sprite on her on her way home from work. Finally around 3am, I finally got to sleep and by the time I woke up today I was feeling much better. Thanks to the help from a few friends.&lt;br /&gt;Today I have just been relaxing and doing reviews for exams next week. I might do something low key this evening but I intend to be asleep early so I can continue to study tomorrow before I go to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113407278433779374?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113407278433779374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113407278433779374&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113407278433779374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113407278433779374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/12/semester-is-almost-over.html' title='The Semester is Almost Over'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113363098093876774</id><published>2005-12-03T11:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T14:54:17.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Crazy Few Weeks</title><content type='html'>Let me start with my 4 am drive to the airport on Thanksgiving Day. I was a little nervous about how crazy the airlines would be, but BNA was it's usual quiet peaceful self (though it was 5 in the morning and only crazy people travel this early). So I take my time to the terminal gate and even stop and get a huge cup of hot chocolate since I learned last time that a cup a of coffee on an empty stomach can be painful. Once I arrived at the gate I took my seat next to another girl my age, two seats away from the only other young person in the room. Everything seemed fine until it was about 10 minutes before we were scheduled to board and BNA employee came over the PA system telling us that our flight attendant wasn't here and they were in the process of finding their back-up. Ok, fine not a big deal. Thirty minutes later we hear that there is no back-up flight attendant and they have to call another employee in, soon after that we were told that the flight was canceled and we had to chose another flight. It was now 7 am and all 25 passengers had to get back in line and individually plan another route to Washington. I couldn't believe it! There was a young woman with her two boys ages 18 months and 2 and a half years. The boys had been entertaining us all up to this point but were out of patients. She was allowed to reschedule first due to her young boys but while they were at the counter the boys lost it. The mother was told that she had to fly through Chicago and catch another plane on to Washington. That is just too hard with young boys. The mother was losing patients, the boys were wining, and then she gets a call from her husband in Iraq, but doesn't reach it in time and misses the call. She finally took a step back and sat down to regroup. I was so impressed with her composure, I would have lost it! After about 45 minutes of trying to reroute everyone, a flight attendant was found and we were back in business. I was arrived in Washington 3 hours later than expected and quickly took a shower and headed over to Mommak's house.&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited to see my nieces since the last visit home was just an adult function. We played and had wonderful appetizer and causal family conversation. I started to feel how much the morning had effected me around 4 pm and just HAD to take a short nap. I woke up to dinner being ready and I could smell the fired turkey and stuffing. Mommka makes awesome stuffing. After dinner my mother, aunt, and grandmother left and "the kids" were left to play cards and finish off the wine. I have to say this was the most relaxing Thanksgiving in recent history, but it felt too safe. It felt like we were on our tip-toes and tried not to offend each other, it was a little odd. I slept downstairs with my oldest niece and in the morning AM and left to have lunch with my mother and grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;Later that afternoon my best friend Jessi came all the way up from southern Maryland to see me and be my driver for the weekend. That evening we went to John's house (the medical school student from New York that I've known since 5th grade) to have drinks with he and his cousin and then went on to a bonfire. We really had a great time but if you walked away from the fi&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1081.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" height="213" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_1081.jpg" width="298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;re you were freezing!&lt;br /&gt;The next day I was in a wedding and Jessi went with me since I had no car and knew no one at the wedding except the bride. Though I hated my dress, the day turned out ok. The reception was at a really nice place and I played with the kids most of the time. Jessi and I had planed to go to Baltimore that night but we &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/100_1122.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;were just too tired from our long day. So instead we stayed home with Mom and watched movies on the &lt;em&gt;Hallmark&lt;/em&gt; channel. Jessi went home and Mom went to bed but I stayed up until about 2 in the morning watching back to back &lt;em&gt;Law and Order&lt;/em&gt;. I really miss cable! The next day Mom and I decorated her apartment and lounged around until I had to go to the airport. The trip home was much less eventful than the trip to Virginia thank goodness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113363098093876774?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113363098093876774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113363098093876774&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113363098093876774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113363098093876774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/12/what-crazy-few-weeks.html' title='What a Crazy Few Weeks'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113268966417050986</id><published>2005-11-22T14:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T15:01:04.213-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppy Sitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/kt%20and%20bailey.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/400/kt%20and%20bailey.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My very trust worthy puppy sitter, Katie, is unable to watch Bailey this weekend. I understand that Katie has plans, but Bailey really loves her and I just don't trust anyone else to stay in my apartment and be with Bailey. So the hunt for a good doggy hotel was on. I must have called ten different places Sunday and they were all full for Thanksgiving and Christmas! So last night I was a work asking friends if anyone wanted to make an extra 50-75 bucks by watching my "daughter" Bailey. One of my managers jumped at the offer and refused any money. He has a one and a half year old rat terrier and thinks that the two of them will get along really well. So tomorrow night after work I have to give her over to him and sleep alone. :o( It actually makes me a little teary eyed! I know Bailey will be fine but I'm not really close with this guy and I just worry that she'll get lose and get hit by a car or something. I know I will be calling everyday to check up on her! This will also be the first holiday I don't have her with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113268966417050986?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113268966417050986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113268966417050986&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113268966417050986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113268966417050986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/11/puppy-sitter.html' title='Puppy Sitter'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113254443568368576</id><published>2005-11-20T22:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T14:36:09.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Overlooked Her</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/sisters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/400/sisters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In families, there are roles that evolve naturally. When you have a family with more than two siblings, each sibling takes on a role. The eldest is very special to the parents by being the first. There are a million pictures of them in every single pose imaginable, while  Mom &amp; Dad are learning how to be  parents for the first time. The youngest is very special for other reasons. They are the baby that the whole family seems to take care of and feels an obligation to protect. The sibling in the middle sometimes may feel less special because they aren't the "baby" or the "oldest." I feel my family is no different.&lt;br /&gt;My mother learned a lot with Mommak being her first child. My mother was a single parent through some of Mommak's hardest teenage years and mom tired her best to keep the lines of communication open. When it was time for AM and myself to creep into teenage years, we both had very different ways of relating to our parents. I have always been the type that shares EVERYTHING! I confessed every good and bad grade as well as every good and bad choice. AM, on the other hand, has always chosen to be more independent and self sufficient. She didn't run to mom when things were a little tough, she sucked it up and went it alone. There are still things I'm learning about now that she never shared with me for that same reason.&lt;br /&gt;Her independence has not worn off with age, I just think it has been over looked. This past year has brought huge change to our family but I noticed this past weekend that AM and I really are doing the same thing, she is just going step by step whereas I am just jumping off the cliff! After AM's graduation from college, she received a position in a top county teaching 2nd grade. After only two years of teaching, she became a mentor teacher and is now training new teachers. The last few years she has been taking graduate classes as well as teaching full time. I don't know how she has the energy to do progress reports for the little ones and assignments for grad school! But step by step my big sister has climbed out of college debt, bought a home, and may very well receive a promotion at work! She has done, or is doing everything she said she would and she is only 27!&lt;br /&gt;AM has been behind my decision to move since the beginning and has kept me motiviated with inspirational words, but I didn't see that her words were more from experience then from admiration of my choice. I was too caught up in myself and the fears I had, that I didn't see the struggles my sister was going through. For that selfishness I am sincerely sorry. Maybe it is time for other people to look at the people around them and make sure they are appreciating and motivating the ones they love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113254443568368576?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113254443568368576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113254443568368576&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113254443568368576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113254443568368576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/11/ive-overlooked-her.html' title='I&apos;ve Overlooked Her'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113233266343590275</id><published>2005-11-18T11:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T11:51:03.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/potter.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Harry.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/400/Harry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/potter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/400/potter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tera and I have become more than just Harry Potter fans! Last night we joined a packed theater of teenagers for the midnight showing of &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire&lt;/em&gt;. Of course I already read the book but I just had to see the movie the instant it came out! It really was worth the way I feel this morning! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No movie can be completely accurate with the book upon which it is based, but this one was really close. There were only a few parts that were not consistent with the book and just a few small pot details that were left out. But the way they brought J. K. Rowling's words to life really was amazing. There was a lot more humor in this movie and it wasn't AS dark as previous releases. Go check it out and tell me what you think.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113233266343590275?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113233266343590275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113233266343590275&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113233266343590275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113233266343590275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/11/harry-potter-and-goblet-of-fire.html' title='Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113216338675910644</id><published>2005-11-16T12:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T12:52:48.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My first Tornado!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/images.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/images.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By my Tuesday night class yesterday all my tests were over! My History of Recording Industry and Mass Media tests both went really well but my math test made me break out into a cold sweat! I'm not even kidding. So Tera and I decided we would go downtown to celebrate the end of our nasty test schedule after my evening Audio of Media class. I heard the news about thunderstorms but they were supposed to pass by before I was out of class. So I got ready and put my "going out" boots on and got all decked out so I could leave right from class. About half way through us learning the difference between Analog and Digital recording, the emergency siren sounds. The voice said that we should take cover immediately. Out teacher canceled class and told us to seek a safer shelter. Well I was not about to get in my car and drive home, I was afraid I'd drive right into the damn thing. So I went to a dorm with a girl in my class. She is the girl I did my Reba presentation with and I have learned since that project that she is not the kind of person I would like to be stuck with for any length of time. Well for two hours we huddled in the base of a stairway with about 10 other residence. It was HELL! When her RA finally said that MTSU was clear of danger I ran out of there. It wasn't raining when I left her dorm but about 100 yards from the door, it starting pouring from the right, then left. My umbrella flipped inside-out three times and I was completely soaked by the time I made it to my car.&lt;br /&gt;The tornado never touched down in my town but did do a lot of damage to surrounding counties. I learned last night that Rutherford county (my county) is number five on the list of top counties effected by tornados! They don't put that in the brochure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113216338675910644?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113216338675910644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113216338675910644&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113216338675910644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113216338675910644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/11/my-first-tornado.html' title='My first Tornado!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113211643400505280</id><published>2005-11-15T23:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T23:12:04.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Me Catch You Up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_1041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday morning Katie and I woke up at 4 am to get to the airport for my 6 am flight (thanks again mom for scheduling that flight). I was amazed I even got Katie out of bed! Though I wanted to sleep more than anything on the flight, I had to start writing up my note cards for my History of Recording Industry test Monday. You always sit next to a talker when you really don't want to talk. The man next to me on the United Express (which was about half the size of any other plane I've ever flown in) was intrigued by the fact that I was making note cards about Elvis, the Beatles, and Bob Dylan. He just HAD to talk to me about it, then about himself. That was a good 30 minutes I could have been studying!&lt;br /&gt;I get off the flight 20 minutes later than expected due to a delay at take-off and proceeded to navigate through the Dulles airport, which if you haven't flown into is rather tricky. When mom picked me up we went shopping for a dress for the birthday party Mommak had been planning for weeks for my brother-in-law. I'm sure my mother thought this would be a two hour trip, little did she know I would drag her to every damn store in that mall. Four hours later we found a great black dress, painful but great black heels, and jewelry to match.&lt;br /&gt;Then we headed back to the airport to pick up my uncle. We finally were ready to go around 6:15 and we were, of course, the first people to arrive at the Ritz Carlton for the big surprise. My brother-in-law would have been surprised if he didn't walk into the elevator with our cousin Tom and his girlfriend Jamie! But that was just fine, he was in the elevator and wasn't going anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;We had a wonderful evening drinking wine, playing black jack and catching up with family and friends. I was so happy I was able to come home and share the evening with the birthday boy. I did, unfortunately, miss singing "Happy Birthday." A few of us were still in the "casino" room listening to the DJ and talking and never knew there were people giving speaks and enjoying cake until halfway through! Oh well!&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, we all had a GREAT time, thanks Mommak for throwing such a great party and for helping me get there!&lt;br /&gt;Since I didn't have a car I was at the mercy of my family and friends. Saturday morning I hitched a ride up to Baltimore with AM and her boyfriend Jason. Later my best friend Amy picked me up from AM so I could spend the night with her. We spent the day finding the perfect shirt to wear and calling everyone I knew to tell them I was in town. Our plan was to kind of hop around a few spots, but we just stayed at one little bar where all my friends from work hung out.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/100_1057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/100_1053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/100_1065.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little disappointed that I didn't see Jessi who was in town from North Carolina, we just couldn't work out a way for me to see her and everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning came very fast and by 11 am I was back at AM's house. I was going to ride down to DC with her for her boyfriend's Rugby game and Mom was going to meet us there to watch the game and to take me back with her to VA. It's crazy not having a car!&lt;br /&gt;I learned a lot about Rugby. We first watched a girls game and saw a huge difference once the guys got on the field. The women were rough, but the guys were throwing punches and taking hits sometimes worst than football players! Mom was next to me making all kinds of noises when the men went down! It was entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;Finally the two 40 minute halves were over and New Zealand bet our Washington team 16-12. Mom and I then went out for dinner at a little Italian restaurant that was employed by Spanish speaking servers! Mom had a battle for over 3 minutes about the last bite of her salad. Mom wanted to keep it and the server kept trying to take it away! We assume that the poor server just didn't know enough English to understand what Mom wanted. Finally Mom won and it wasn't 5 minutes later when the buser came by and took the salad bowl before Mom could finish her last bite! We laughed and laughed over that one!&lt;br /&gt;We only had time for a cup of tea before I was off to the Dulles airport again. I got there really early since Mom had a choir rehearsal, but that was fine I had to study any way. The plane arrived on time and I was in Nashville by 11pm.&lt;br /&gt;My first weekend home had flown by so fast and I was on such a schedule that I couldn't relish is the fact that I was HOME. I'll be back in a week and will hopefully have a little more time then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113211643400505280?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113211643400505280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113211643400505280&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113211643400505280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113211643400505280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/11/let-me-catch-you-up.html' title='Let Me Catch You Up!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113163900222388955</id><published>2005-11-10T10:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T11:17:52.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Finally 21!</title><content type='html'>My best friend down here, Tera, has finally turned 21! This is good for me since all we have been able to go to are &lt;em&gt;shady&lt;/em&gt; clubs and restaurant bars. I don't need to go out all the time, but I love Nashville and all the bars on Broadway and I WILL NOT go alone.&lt;br /&gt;Her birthday was Tuesday and we really celebrated responsibly! We went to dinner with her mother, father, and next door neighbors and then headed down to Broadway for her first encounter with the Nashville bar scene.&lt;br /&gt;Our first stop was the legendary bar, &lt;a href="http://www.tootsies.net/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tootsies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/tootsies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/tootsies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is usually one of my favorite bars because it&lt;br /&gt;has a band that plays downstairs and another band that plays on the upper level. As we walked in the front door I realized this wasn't the right bar for her parents to be in. There were wall to wall people and I could see the look "I don't like this" in her mother's eyes! So, we fought crowd and walked up the stairs and out the back door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/MARKY~34.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/MARKY%7E34.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we walked behind the bar right next the the &lt;a href="http://www.opry.com/MeetTheOpry/Intro.aspx"&gt;Ryman&lt;/a&gt; (where the Grand Ole' Opry used to be held) to a bar more suited for parents, &lt;a href="http://www.legendscorner.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Legends&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/a&gt; This is a large bar with a lot of tables that usually plays more "classic" country. We had a great time listening to the band and dancing.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we decided we needed something a little "younger."&lt;br /&gt;We we walked down about three bars to &lt;em&gt;The Stage.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/stage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px" height="135" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/stage.jpg" width="166" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/stageq.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Stage is my all time favorite bar. This draws a younger crowd between 25-late thirties. I like that! There are no little drunk kids running around getting on your nerves, though drunk men are common in any of these bars. I am no expert on the Nashville bar scene, I just know what I like, and this bar is always fun. There is a dance floor and tables but also an upstairs loft that over looks the bar. Tera and I stood right in front of the band and danced until we finally noticed how tired her parents were :o) Tera had a wonderful birthday and I so happy I was there to share it with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* On a side note* I'M FLYING HOME TOMORROW! I'm much more excited about it now than I was a week ago. I think I'm at a better place with my decision to be here, and therefore don't feel awkward about going home. I do, however, have two test on Monday and one on Tuesday, so there will be studying going on this weekend. Well, I love you all and hope you are doing well!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113163900222388955?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113163900222388955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113163900222388955&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113163900222388955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113163900222388955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/11/shes-finally-21.html' title='She&apos;s Finally 21!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113095428758460311</id><published>2005-11-02T12:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T13:09:30.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Facts</title><content type='html'>For the last three days I've been working on a presentation for my Survey of recording Industry class. The project required us to follow the income streams of one artist and chart the money that they actually make after all the cuts to their manager, publisher, and promoters. Well my partner and I have chosen Reba McEntire and once we finally got going on the project we learned many things, but my favorite was a page on her website that has random facts about her personal life and career history. So I decided to do the same!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have had four cars so far. My first was an 1989 Ford Taurus that I totaled about 3 months after I turned 16. The second was a gold Nissan Stanza that I was really proud of. When that one died I was excited to find a "cool" car but instead my parents came home with a teal Ford Taurus STATION WAGON! I drove that through college and it died every 6 months. Finally we donated it and I went to CarMax to finally pick out a car that I liked. I chose a 96 Nissan Maxima. I wanted it in silver but got one in gold.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had HORRIBLE teeth when I was young and wore something mental in my mouth for about nine years! My favorite was a retainer that had one of my front teeth attached to it. I liked it pop it in and out. :o)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I played the viola for one year and only learned one song!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My family had a dog named Lexie that we had to keep in the yard or on the porch because it was too big and jumped on us. TO walk out in the yard we had to bring a broom just to keep her away from us. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I learned I was highly allergic to horses when I was in the middle of horseback riding lessons!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite color is olive green.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The friend I have known the longest is really just one I haven't been able to get rid of. We were in kindergarten together and stayed friends until about forth grade and then we went to high school together and worked at the same summer job. All through college we have remained friends but now she is married and moved to London. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite part of my body is a close tie between my feet and my smile. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I only started to play music because my older sister AM was in the band and I wanted to do everything she did. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I started to sing in public when I was in seventh grade. I was the youngest member in the St. Mary's Folk Choir. I think I used that choir to have a good look at all the young guys in the congregation. :o)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I turned down an opportunity to play bassoon on tour in Europe to go to summer camp with all my friends. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite family vacation is a close tie between the first time we rented a house across the street from Sea Colony and the first time we had Thanksgiving in Deep Creek. I think every time we choose a new location for a vacation we have more fun. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite amusement park ride is very simple but could entertain me for hours. The Tilt-a-whirl!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My first real boyfriend was in eighth grade, John Allen. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was almost arrested once. I was in high school and a few of us drove up to a house we were told was haunted. Diane, Nick and I took to separate car and were the first in the drive way of the house. We were also too scared to get out! There were about three other cars of our friends that were not afraid and went up to the house to try to get in. Well the next thing I knew I hard sirens and my friends were running back to their cars. Since we were the first ones in the driveway, we were the last ones out. So we got stopped by the police and they ran our names through the computer and made us take our shoes off to compare them to the foot prints by the house. Finally they let us go when our shoes didn't match. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My first guitar was my mother's. She played when she was in the convent!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I ran for Homecoming Queen my senior year and was runner-up. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have never been a smoker though in college I tried it like everyone else. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you can't tell, I'm running out of things to talk about. My current schedule has nothing worth discussing in it, so I'm forced to talk about things in the past. Any questions you'd like to ask? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113095428758460311?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113095428758460311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113095428758460311&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113095428758460311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113095428758460311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/11/fun-facts.html' title='Fun Facts'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113086585862640298</id><published>2005-11-01T11:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T13:01:50.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't You Just Miss Formals?</title><content type='html'>I was looking through my high school photo albums and I was reminded of how much I miss Homecoming and Prom! I thought I'd share with you all my high school formal dance scrapbook.&lt;br /&gt;Starting from left to right, we begin with my first formal high school dance. November 1995 Homecoming. I don't remember a lot about the night, not even the guy's name! 1995-1996 was my Sophomore year but my sister's senior year. I was attached to AM's hip so every friend she had I tried to make them my friend. It finally worked with Joe. He was a sweetheart of a guy that was a fabulous clarinet player. We all made fun of him though because he moved A LOT when he played. Anyway, he invited me to be his date to his senior prom (which was also my sister's senior prom). AM was really cool to let her little sister go to her prom and sit with her friends.&lt;br /&gt;My Junior year I went to Homecoming with my boyfriend at the time...Whose name begins with a "J" but that's all I can remember. The relationship didn't last long because, well he was an ass! As that year went on I finally started to make some great friends. By the time May came around I had a best friend named Kelly and a great guy friend who went with me to many formal events. I went to DeMatha's Junior/Senior Prom with Pete and we all road in a limo that had a hot tub on the roof! It was awesome...But the water cooled down really quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Nov.%2095"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/Nov.%2095" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/May%2096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/May%2096.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Nov.%2096"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/Nov.%2096" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/May%2097%20Dematha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/May%2097%20Dematha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/May%2097%20Seton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/May%2097%20Seton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan0005.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/scan0005.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/scan0006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My junior year also brought me to the point I never thought I'd be, on a date with John Paul! For four years I had liked John Paul. He and I went to the same church and were in teen club and honors band together. I just thought he was the sun and moon, though I never really hung out with him. I created him, and when I befriended his best friend...I was IN! He came with me to Seton's Junior/Senior prom and that smile on my face is just pure joy! The theme for the prom was "If Only For One Night." It was so fitting because that was the one and only time I ever kissed John Paul. He turned out to not be the GOD I made him out to be, go figures!&lt;br /&gt;So that brings me to my Senior year. That year I found the most beautiful red dress that I felt absolutely gorgeous in. My good friend Pete and I went to his Homecoming as well as mine together. For my Homecoming, Mommak did my hair, and her husband made dinner for all my friends. When May rolled around I went to DeMatha's prom with Pete but he had a girlfriend that went to my school and, of course, went with her to that dance. I decided to go with my other good guy friend Brandon DeBow who I secretly had a crush on for a number of years. He was dating my best friend so I never made that secret known. We had a wonderful time though. I think I had more fun the times I went with friends than the times I went with "boyfriends."&lt;br /&gt;I miss going shopping for the gown and I miss all the girls coming over and getting ready together. Unless you are Greek you don't have the opportunity to dress up in college.&lt;br /&gt;Hope you enjoyed my Formal Dance Scrapbook!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113086585862640298?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113086585862640298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113086585862640298&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113086585862640298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113086585862640298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/11/dont-you-just-miss-formals.html' title='Don&apos;t You Just Miss Formals?'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-113042471009576588</id><published>2005-10-27T10:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T10:55:45.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Crazy Life!</title><content type='html'>Last week I was completely out of commission! I think I had a sinus infection. Starting Wednesday night I felt a horrible headache and woke up Thursday in a state of true illness. All I wanted was to sleep and blow my nose. Usually my mother is the first I call in this situation, but I felt so bad I couldn't even call her! Because I am so low on funds, I just HAD to work Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Friday was so bad at work my eyes were watering and I had to blow my nose (and then of course wash my hands) every time I walked back into the kitchen!&lt;br /&gt;Since Monday I've been studying and working on an income stream project on Reba McEntire. Did you know she not only has a hit TV show but also has her own clothing line? She has money coming in from so many streams I thought she would be easy to report on, that isn't the case so far. The project is due next week and I haven't found ANYTHING. I e-mail my professor for help, so hopefully things will be looking up.&lt;br /&gt;Besides all this, I really haven't had much of a life. I'm trying to find another job that pays more and I'm working hard at school...That's it! Boring right? I haven't really gone out since I haven't been feeling well and I haven't wanted to spend the money. But my friends from home are busy!&lt;br /&gt;1. Joey won 3rd place in a karaoke contest last weekend.&lt;br /&gt;2. Jessi quit her job after two months of working in the North Carolina School system&lt;br /&gt;3. Amy is getting ready for Grad school&lt;br /&gt;4. Kateri's mom was diagnosed with cancer and had surgery yesterday where they removed everything but the kitchen sink!&lt;br /&gt;5. Katie is still working on finding herself and her inspiration&lt;br /&gt;6. Lauren is busy planning her wedding for the weekend after Thanksgiving&lt;br /&gt;7. Erin's boyfriend Brian of nine years finally proposed!&lt;br /&gt;8. Colleen's boyfriend since our sophomore year in college also proposed.&lt;br /&gt;9. Tim bought a new car, won an ipod, and won concert tickets all in one day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all my friends either married, engaged, or "taken" you'd think I'd start to get a little restless, but actually for the first time I can remember, I really DON'T want to be in a relationship of ANY kind. The men in Tennessee have not impressed me so far and I don't feel a need to be distracted by them. I have been struggling with something though. In a little less than three weeks I'll be going home for the first time. I'm very excited about seeing everyone, but I think I'm more nervous than anything else. I'm nervous because this experience has already changed me DRAMATICALLY and I fear I'm not the same person I was when I left them. I also...Well I don't feel I've accomplished enough yet. A part of me doesn't want to come home until I've accomplished...MORE! Gotten a better job, finished the first semester and knowing I can go on into my program. This is such a different feeling than coming home from Towson University. I have so much more to prove!&lt;br /&gt;I took an online test the other day to see if I showed signs of anxiety disorder. I am constantly nervous about money, grades, and my future. Of course the test said I should schedule an appointment and speak to a counselor. I guess it is the best thing for me since I'm making myself sick every other week just by worrying. I think I'm honestly had this headache for two weeks straight. Time off doesn't relax me because I just think about what coming up and whether I'm ready for it or not. SO I'm guessing I won't be able to relax until December 17th when my finals are over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-113042471009576588?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/113042471009576588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=113042471009576588&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113042471009576588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/113042471009576588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/what-crazy-life.html' title='What a Crazy Life!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112966205766480481</id><published>2005-10-18T14:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T15:00:57.680-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Day of Fall Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/cleaning.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 116px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px" height="131" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/cleaning.jpg" width="116" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today I woke up around 11:00 am and stayed in bed until a little after noon. I was reading my Harry Potter book that I just can't seem to have time to finish. For the rest of the day I MUST clean my apartment. I've been "straightening-up" for about a month but haven't actually &lt;em&gt;cleaned&lt;/em&gt; in forever! I know that sounds bad, but when I have free time I either read for school, veg out in front of the TV or just sleep. So I have started my clean sweep. I have finished the bathroom and took out all the trash, and now here I am stalling again! :o) Writing in my blog just seems so much more interesting than doing dishes and cleaning the floor! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How long has it been since you did a full top to bottom cleaning?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112966205766480481?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112966205766480481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112966205766480481&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112966205766480481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112966205766480481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/last-day-of-fall-break.html' title='Last Day of Fall Break'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112953075077468756</id><published>2005-10-17T02:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T11:36:46.883-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Home Alabama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Alabama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/Alabama.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my Fall Break Weekend I ended up in Alabama. Random right? I wanted to go some where so I could actually have some kind of a vacation. This was a very informational trip. It showed me some of the difference between how a northerner is raised and how people from the south are brought up. For example, southern schools often don't even offer soccer or lacrosse in their curriculums, but everybody sure knows how to play football.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Decatur%20Raiders.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/Decatur%20Raiders.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thursday evening a friend invited me to come to Decatur Alabama to watch a football game. He is a high school coach with a team that is now 8-0. I had no idea what I was getting into. The undefeated Red Raiders were playing the Hazel Green Trojans on enemy territory. As I pulled up to the field house I was already amazed at the size of the HIGH SCHOOL stadium. This was an away game, but the Decatur stands were full of ecstatic high schoolers and a huge marching band. I say huge, only because at my high school we didn't have a football team let alone a marching band. This was a scene right out of the movie "Friday Night Lights." Boys are raised on football here and it is a serious part of their lives. The whole damn town goes to every game and knows the stats of every player on the field and in the marching band.&lt;br /&gt;I sat right behind the students of Decatur High school, which was a mistake. I got in the middle of a mosh pit and had to crawl out and up the bleachers for safety. To my right was the marching band and I was having flash backs from my days as a color guard when I had a 50/50 chance of catching the flag I threw. I honestly had an awesome time with the people in the stands and I was so proud to watch my friend on the side line coaching. :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Auburn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/Auburn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday nights in the south are for High School football, but Saturdays are for college ball. I learned this weekend that I'm supposed to think the auburn Tigers are the best college team. Don't ask me anything else about them...Cause I'm still learning too. I spent ALL of Saturday watching college football. Alabama over ole Miss 13 to 10, USC defeated Notre Dame 34 to 31(which everyone I was with was really upset about), Florida State loses to Virginia 26 to 21, and Auburn was victorious over Arkansas 34 to 17. By the time football was over and the guys could leave their couches, I was ready to talk to a girl about make-up, nail polish, toothpaste or....God anything but Football!&lt;br /&gt;Good news is, we hung out with some great people and I learned a few things from my southern friends.&lt;br /&gt;1. You can say the meanest thing about someone, but if you add "bless her heart" after it, it's OK.&lt;br /&gt;2. People in the south don't give two shits about NFL.&lt;br /&gt;3. Southern men WILL NOT let you open a door.&lt;br /&gt;4. There is a difference between southern people and country folks.&lt;br /&gt;5. You should never wear open toed shoes to a bar in the south. I believe I have a broke middle toe due to the fact that gravity makes it hard for drunk men to hold a full bottle of beer.&lt;br /&gt;I also just want to say how thankful I am that I met Tera and her sister Tiffany. They introduced me to Coach Freeman and they are the reason I had a fall break at all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112953075077468756?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112953075077468756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112953075077468756&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112953075077468756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112953075077468756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/sweet-home-alabama.html' title='Sweet Home Alabama'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112913261488389323</id><published>2005-10-12T11:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T12:03:12.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'>B Student and Fall Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/student1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/student1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have now had a test in every class and it is obvious that I am a solid B student.&lt;br /&gt;Mass Media - 87%&lt;br /&gt;Survey of Recording Industry - 87%&lt;br /&gt;Audio for Media - 87%&lt;br /&gt;History of Recording Industry - 85%&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping that now that I know how each teacher tests, I will know how to study and become an A student. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/fall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px" height="91" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/fall.jpg" width="119" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday starts our Fall break. I don't really know what to do with this time off! Tera is going home for the weekend so I guess I could work at the restaurant, but I would also like to have a few days of rest. I have been fighting off a cold for the last week and though I have been winning, the extra rest would be good for me. Maybe I could finally finish my Harry Potter book and read a few chapters for school. I only wish I had talked to my two best friends from home earlier, they were thinking of taking a trip this weekend because there was a really cheap flight offered by Southwest, but of course by the time I talked to them...The rates changed. :o( It sure would have been nice to see them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112913261488389323?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112913261488389323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112913261488389323&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112913261488389323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112913261488389323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/b-student-and-fall-break.html' title='B Student and Fall Break'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112879807581453309</id><published>2005-10-08T14:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T15:28:07.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts that Empower my Spirit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Doors1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/Doors.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/scan0004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/Music1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/Music.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112879807581453309?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112879807581453309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112879807581453309&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112879807581453309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112879807581453309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/thoughts-that-empower-my-spirit.html' title='Thoughts that Empower my Spirit'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112861495545567433</id><published>2005-10-06T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T15:11:35.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Education</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/thewayiamcover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="134" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/thewayiamcover.jpg" width="144" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'd like to start a new trend here on the Nashville Bound blog, I'd like to teach a little country music appreciation! I want to start with my all time favorite singer, &lt;a href="http://www.martinamcbride.com/flash.shtml"&gt;Martina McBride&lt;/a&gt;. There is a full biography on this site that tracks her string of number one hits. From her second album released in 1992, &lt;em&gt;The Way that I Am,&lt;/em&gt; she finally received her first number one hit&lt;em&gt; "My Baby Loves Me" &lt;/em&gt;This is a fun fast tempo song that talks about how her man loves her just the way she is. Also on this album, she released her first "women's power" song (as I like to call them). "Independence Day" wasn't a number one track, but it did introduce a way for women to speak about spousal abuse through song. She continued to speak for strong women with the release of her forth album "&lt;em&gt;Evolution"&lt;/em&gt; in 1997. My all-time favorite song is on this CD, it's "&lt;em&gt;A Broken Wing." &lt;/em&gt;It too speaks about a women who has been abused and finally leaves her &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/evolutioncover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/evolutioncover.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;husband. Her music isn't all depressing, On this album she also has "&lt;em&gt;Happy Girl."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is an upbeat cute song talking about how she used to be shy and stayed away&lt;br /&gt;from a crowd but now is happy and loves to smile. It's a fun girlie song.&lt;br /&gt;In 1999, she released her &lt;a href="http://www.cmt.com/artists/az/mcbride_martina/159713/album.jhtml"&gt;Emotion&lt;/a&gt; album, which she and Paul Worley produced under&lt;br /&gt;BMG Entertainment on the RCA label. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/mmwall6tn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/mmwall6tn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Now that I'm in school and learning about production, I really look up to Martina for getting involved in her creative work. Since she isn't involved in the writing of her songs, and neither would I, this is an equally fulfilling way to be involved in the marketable work.&lt;br /&gt;She has released at least four more complete albums after the few I have mentioned and is still going strong with her new album, "Timeless." &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.martinamcbride.com/main.shtml"&gt;This too was produced by McBride and is unlike any album she has recorded, celebrating her place in a genre she holds dear while reminiscing and paying homage to the songs where her journey began. It is an entire album dedicated to some of the most revered country classics of our time.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the other reasons Martina is my personal favorite, is her wonderful and giving spirit. She is married and has, I think, three daughters. She is a TINY women but has the power of a gospel singer in a traditional Baptist church. Every time I have ever seen her perform, she was flawless! Never out of breath or flat on one note! She is the perfect role model for any artist to strive to be compared to.&lt;br /&gt;I want to end today's lesson with a bit of lyrics from "It's My Time" released in the &lt;em&gt;Emotions&lt;/em&gt; CD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There's a time to stand and the time is now or never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;A time to fly, a time to let go forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;A time to grow and a time to discover&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Life is precious, every second&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;You've wasted mine, and it's my time!&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/14155868-112861495545567433?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112861495545567433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112861495545567433&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112861495545567433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112861495545567433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/little-education.html' title='A Little Education'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112854766575631359</id><published>2005-10-05T17:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T17:32:17.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fate or Coincidence?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 312px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px" height="220" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/scan1.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in the 5th grade, my family joined a new parish and enrolled me into their CCD program. The program is a religion class for students who attend public school. It was in that program that I met John Manderville. At that time he was a short, chubby blonde boy who followed me around every where I went. It was obvious that he had a crush on me, and things remained that way all through middle school. Something happened to him in high school though. That little chubby boy grew into his body, his voice lower and then I was chasing after him! In high school we went back and forth. When I liked him, he was interested in other girls and when he liked me I wanted to stay friends. As fate would have it, we went to the same college and our dorm rooms were in the same building only one floor apart! We hung out quite a few times, but never got around to dating. This is a picture of us in my dorm room freshmen year.&lt;br /&gt;He graduated a year before me and got a good job with a pharmaceutical company. About two years ago we tried to meet up when we where both home for Christmas, but I decided to stay at home and spend time with my mother. I hadn't spoken to him since then, until today. I was at lunch with Katie and Tera doing some last minute studying for our History of Recording Industry test today, and I got a call from a Maryland number. It was John! He told me that he was in New York with only a year and a half left in medical school as well as being an officer in the Army. He apparently joined the Army when I got out of college to earn money for medical school. So, after a quick summary of our lives, he asked when he could see me. I said I wasn't planning on coming home until November and then for Christmas. Then he asked when my next break from school was, and as fate would have it, it's next weekend. I have from Friday to Tuesday off and I already requested off work three of those nights (just in case there was something fun to do). He asked if I would come up to visit. So I ask you, is this fate or coincidence? Should I go to New York or take my chances that he will still be single and interested in December?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112854766575631359?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112854766575631359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112854766575631359&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112854766575631359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112854766575631359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/fate-or-coincidence.html' title='Fate or Coincidence?'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112840143465688084</id><published>2005-10-04T11:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T13:51:45.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Pet Peeves</title><content type='html'>I know we all have them, but I think my list of pet peeves is getting longer and longer!&lt;br /&gt;1). I hate when you are in a crowded mall, or sidewalk and can't seem to get around all the people who choose to walk at a snail's pace.&lt;br /&gt;2). I hate when people slurp! MommaK used to hit me every time I slurped at the table, and I have to restrain myself from doing it to others.&lt;br /&gt;3). I hate when I'm in class trying my best to listen to the teacher who is talking at a record pace, and people near me decide to carry a conversation! My attention immediately goes to what they are saying and I return to the lecture not understand at all what has been said.&lt;br /&gt;4). I hate when people click their pens, tap their nails,or squeak their chair! I guess any sound that is soft, and almost undetectable and repetitive drives me nuts.&lt;br /&gt;5). I hate when people sniffle and refuse to solve the problem with a Kleenex! Instead they constantly suck the snot back up into their bodies.&lt;br /&gt;6). I hate going into WalMart! There are so many people, so much clutter, and too many things that make a "Beeping" sounds!&lt;br /&gt;7).I hate when people make plans and then either cancel at the last minute, or even worse, never answer their phone. If you have to cancel, be a grown up and CALL! Last night I had plans to practice Guitar with Tim because tomorrow night I was going to play guitar while Tera sang at an open mic. Tim had offered I use his guitar since it is an amplified acoustic and would be easier to pick up than my acoustic. I was supposed to call when I got off work and he would come over and let me practice. Well, while I was at work I got a message from some friends we met last week asking if I wanted to hang out. When I got off work I called both Tim and my new friends and I never heard from either! If you are tired and have decided to stay in, just call!&lt;br /&gt;8). I hate when people only talk about themselves and make no effort to ask how you are. I have a "friend" in Maryland that has been going to school and waiting tables for a few years now. Unfortunately there isn't much more going on in his life, but when we talk we don't talk about how I'm adjusting to a COMPLETELY different life, no we talk about waiting tables and how much he works out!!!!&lt;br /&gt;9). I hate when men behave differently around a girl like me and a girl like... Jessica Simpson. There is a really sweet cute girl named Emily that started working around the same time I did so she doesn't know our manager any more than I do. But, the little asshole manager, picks on me for EVERYTHING and never says anything but nice things to her! Like today, he went around and harshly told every employee that they must come to work 15 minutes early. Emily and I pulled up at the same time, which happened to be 10 minutes early, and walked in together. But when he spoke to Emily, he kindly asked her to try to make it early to work just in case we are busy and could use the help. Don't men realize that women talk to each other about...Almost everything? So if he really thinks she sees him as the sweet guy he is only to her...He is an idiot!&lt;br /&gt;10).I hate finding a new doctor, hairstylist, vet, gym, dry cleaner, and bank! I have had so many bad experiences with bad hair cuts and I finally found a great one in Baltimore 9 months before I moved. Now I'm down here and scared to trust anyone else!&lt;br /&gt;11).I hate when women agree with men just to get their attention. And for that matter, I hate when people in general just abandon their core feelings and beliefs to go along with a crowd. I was in Survey of Recording Industry today and we were talking about how country music is the least downloaded music to Ipods. The teacher asked those who liked country music to raise their hands and comment on the matter. I was the first and most proud, but there were at least seven other people who confessed to liking country music. When the discussion got a little stereotypical and some-what harsh, I was the only one who still defended my preferred entertainment genre. I know this isn't like defending a religion or anything, but the same push-over mentality applies.&lt;br /&gt;12). I hate my slow dial-up internet service. I just wish I had the money to spend on high speed!&lt;br /&gt;13). I hate when you tell people where you go to school and they say, "do you know such in such?" Like I know everyone in a school with over 20,000 students attending it!&lt;br /&gt;14). I think the one thing I HATE more than anything is people that are constantly talking about how they want a better life but make no effort to change their status. How do you expect your life to go in any other direction if you never turn the sterling wheel?&lt;br /&gt;I think I had better stop because I see that this list could really go on FOREVER. What are some of your pet peeves?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112840143465688084?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112840143465688084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112840143465688084&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112840143465688084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112840143465688084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-pet-peeves.html' title='My Pet Peeves'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112831099650596381</id><published>2005-10-02T23:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T23:43:16.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughing is Contagious</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0601.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px" height="244" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_0601.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my all-time favorite things to do is laugh! Laughter is very important in my life. I base the quality of friends as well as boyfriends on whether or not they can make me laugh. If a really cute guy isn't funny, I want NOTHING to do with him. It also works out the other way. If an unemployed, going-no-where, guy has a great sense of humor, I'm attracted! The latter is the more dangerous case. I love a man with laugh lines by his eyes because I know he got them from a life time of smiles.&lt;br /&gt;Friends are the same way. I am drawn to sarcastic women, probably because my two sister are that way and they are my BEST friends. I do miss my friends from Maryland. I miss how well they know me and how they can cheer me up with just a look, or a funny comment about some other girl! Looking at this picture of Amy and Katie, I am reminded of thousands of smiles and how hard I have worked for my smile lines.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112831099650596381?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112831099650596381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112831099650596381&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112831099650596381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112831099650596381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/10/laughing-is-contagious.html' title='Laughing is Contagious'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112802103604133250</id><published>2005-09-30T23:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T01:54:28.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life with a Mic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan00053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/scan00053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I can remember, I have LOVED to sing! I wasn't really one of those annoying kids that is always in your face singing and entertaining, but if there was an opportunity, I was game. This picture is of one of my very favorite Christmases. I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom, and I just had to look out in the living room to see if Santa had come yet. Well he did, and he left me my first microphone and&lt;br /&gt;microphone stand. I was so excited I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. That was one of the all time best gifts!&lt;br /&gt;As I got older things didn't change. I still loved to sing. I was in every singing group I could get into including show choir and even some musical theater. By college, I finally started to learn how to play the guitar. I was inspired by a really cute guy that played Garth Brooks and Edwin McCain. With the small number of chords I knew how to play, I started to write songs. I was never very good at that, but have written hundreds anyway. While in college I sang at a few "open mic nights" around campus. I would always get really nervous, but then I heard what some of the other people were singing or reading and I felt much better. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan0007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/scan0007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I started out studying both vocal and instrument education. I loved to sing, but the department requirements mandated that I sing in foreign languages and there was no class for musical theatre. I was losing my interest, and eventually dropped my work load to only instrumental education. For my junior and senior recitals I sang and played the bassoon. There was no way I was going to get up on stage and not sing while I was there! My best friend Jessi followed my lead and also sang original songs at her recital. I was also blessed to sing and play with her on her big day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan0008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="141" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/scan0008.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After college, I started to REALLY get into karaoke. I sang a few times a week and really boosted my repertoire as well as my ego! I won a few contest totaling about $800 dollars in prize money. I was getting known in the local Baltimore karaoke bars, and I liked it!&lt;br /&gt;I love going to a new bar and watching people's heads turn when I start to sing. But, things are very different here. Great singers are a dime a dozen, and no one is doing it just for the fun of it. Karaoke contest down here are like American Idol try outs. So needless to say, I haven't done much. My mother did talk me into singing at Tootsies one night when we were visiting in March. That was fun, though not my best performance. The guy playing guitar is Scott Collier. He and his band play at Tootsies ALL THE TIME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan0009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/scan0009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know I'm not down here to sing, and I know I don't want to ever be famous, but I need some kind of performance opportunity. Katie and I were talking about looking on campus for a group to join. Tim hosts an "open mic night" on Tuesdays and I think Tera and I will perform next week, but I just don't feel like it's enough. I miss the confidence I had when I was singing in front of an awesome crowd. I think meeting all these people down here that are making a living playing music makes me wonder sometimes why I'm not trying harder to at least sing SOMEWHERE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112802103604133250?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112802103604133250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112802103604133250&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112802103604133250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112802103604133250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-life-with-mic.html' title='My Life with a Mic'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112810312269879283</id><published>2005-09-30T13:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T13:58:42.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday In Murfreesboro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0976.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/100_0976.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0953.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/100_0953.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was so wonderful yesterday, that Tera, Katie, Bailey and I went to the park and played guitar. Katie is just now learning and is doing really well. Tera wants to learn, so we are working on it. We stayed there for about two hours and just loved being in the sun and not worrying about school. (Be the way, my tests went really well).&lt;br /&gt;Later that day, Tera and I hung out around my apartment getting ready to go out and we took this picture that I just LOVE! We weren't sure what we were going to do, because most places you have to be 21 to get into, and Tera still has another month to go. So we decided to go out early because most places don't start to card until after 9:00. Tera, Katie and I went to a little Bar and Grill for dinner and after Katie went home, Tera and I headed over to a bar near campus. We were the only women in the bar for a few hours except for the crazy lady with bad roots at the end on the bar. Every now and then she would yell something across the bar to us...we couldn't really relate to her. By the end of the night, we knew everyone in the place. Tera talked to two guys for most the night, Rodney and Will. I spent most my time talking to a musician (of course) named Dion. Everyone is a musician in this town, I swear it is losing it's uniqueness. All in all, we had a wonderful time, and made even more friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_1014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/100_1014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112810312269879283?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112810312269879283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112810312269879283&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112810312269879283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112810312269879283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/thursday-in-murfreesboro.html' title='Thursday In Murfreesboro'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112783651606002513</id><published>2005-09-27T11:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T18:25:16.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I think about when I try to study</title><content type='html'>I've been sitting at my desk typing up notes from two of my classes. I type them because it's easier for me to study from clearly written notes and it helps get the material in my brain. I have one test this evening in Audio for Media and one on Thursday in Survey of Recording Industry. Both are hard classes that cover a lot of material. While I sit here I tend to look past my computer at the bulletin board where I pin up a few of my favorite pictures and a few other little things that remind me of good times. Well this picture just keeps catching my attention. It's my best friend Amy Jean in my cowboy hat. I guess what's really funny about this is that she isn't a country music fan and could have easily put the hat on backwards for all she knows. She is one of my silliest friends and always fun to dance with. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/scan0002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I also have a few school pictures of my nieces, Jessie and Joey's wedding picture, Kateri and Jim's wedding picture and a few restaurant business cards that I like to frequent. Among those, is my new favorite cheap Mexican restaurant, &lt;em&gt;Camino Real&lt;/em&gt;. I just can't get enough fajitas and cheese dip! My newest addition to the bulletin board, is a card I got in the mail yesterday from my sister AM. It says, "&lt;em&gt;A sister is love that you never outgrow. No matter where our paths may wind. Those childhood days we left behind are with me in my heart and mind, as I remember you. Happy Birthday Sister...With a lifetime of memories and a heart full of love."&lt;/em&gt; How sweet right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/scan0003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The last thing that always seems to distract me, is the Dr. Seuss book "Oh the Places You'll Go." These are a few of my favorite excerpts."&lt;em&gt;You will come to a place where the streets are not all marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're dark. A place you could sprain both your elbows and chin! Do you dare stay out? Do you dare go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win? And when you're alone, there's a very good chance you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on. You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember life is a balancing act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And NEVER mix up your right foot with your left." &lt;/em&gt;The life lessons you can learn from good old Dr. Seuss. I really love reading that book, because it gives a childlike manner to a very adult way of life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Where does your mind wonder when you are supposed to be studying or working?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112783651606002513?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112783651606002513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112783651606002513&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112783651606002513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112783651606002513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/what-i-think-about-when-i-try-to-study.html' title='What I think about when I try to study'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112762200029977259</id><published>2005-09-25T00:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T12:23:21.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Ten Reasons I Smiled This Weekend</title><content type='html'>1. My mother was here and pampered the hell out of me! We went to Target on Saturday morning and I got a toaster oven (so I don't have to cook toast in the real oven), a skillet (so I can cook more than one pancake at a time), new silverware (since the plastic 3 dollar set is already rusting), and new towels (just cause). Sunday we went clothes shopping, which I always need!&lt;br /&gt;2. We had lunch with &lt;a href="http://www.RugDesigner.blogspot.com"&gt;RugDesigner&lt;/a&gt; and her wonderful husband Saturday afternoon. We stayed at the restaurant for two hours talking and enjoying each other's company. I have another mother in Tennessee now! Thank you both for the magnet, it's on my refrigerator displaying a picture of my wild niece!&lt;br /&gt;3. Mom, Katie, Tera, and I saw "At lot like Heaven" and it was WONDERFUL! The guy who plays the lead, David...Is so adorable. I don't know the actor's real name but he also was in &lt;em&gt;13 Going On &lt;/em&gt;30. Tera looked down the aisle when she heard someone crying. She thought  it was a stranger until she realized it was me! I love Chick Flicks!&lt;br /&gt;4. I was given an AWESOME motivation to pierce my ears AGAIN! &lt;a href="http://www.petroville.com"&gt;Mommak&lt;/a&gt; bought me beautiful, and expensive, silver earrings for my birthday. I have had my ears pierced twice before, but there was just no luck. This time I must get them pierced by the right people and be meticulous about keeping them clean. Thank you Mommak I love them!&lt;br /&gt;5. Visiting with a family that helped me find my apartment and a job Saturday afternoon. Katie came with mom and I for a nice relaxing afternoon. We had burgers and talked for a few hours. It was very nice.&lt;br /&gt;6. Doing handstands in the Vehars yard with Katie and Lizzie.&lt;br /&gt;7. Watching and listening to Tera hum the &lt;em&gt;humdinger&lt;/em&gt; card during our Cranium game Saturday night. The song was &lt;em&gt;Home on the Range&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;8. Staying up late with my mother just talking until we can't keep our eyes open.&lt;br /&gt;9. After mom left on last night I studied for two hours for my test on Tuesday night. I felt very productive after that.&lt;br /&gt;10. I was scheduled to have a date tonight, but because the power went out at Tim's studio, he left early last night. We decided to hang out so he could record tonight instead. This was the second time I didn't intend to see him, so I made him give me 30 minutes to change out of my Towson University sweat pants and to try to tame my curly hair. By the time he got to my apartment the news was reporting a tornado on it's way through Murfreesboro, so we stayed in and watched movies. It was a nice date I have to say....But don't keep your fingers crossed. He is a musician with little free time.&lt;br /&gt;I think this weekend has pulled me out of my slump and I am full of smiles and motivation to do well in school and to pierce my ears!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112762200029977259?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112762200029977259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112762200029977259&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112762200029977259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112762200029977259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/top-ten-reasons-i-smiled-this-weekend.html' title='Top Ten Reasons I Smiled This Weekend'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112748352600116422</id><published>2005-09-23T09:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T13:43:56.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Couldn't Have Come at a Better Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/scan0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love having visitors! My sister, Jason and Katie were the first to see where I live. They were here when I was scared and excited at the same time. When Katie left I was depressed but ready to enjoy Tennessee. Amy came a week later and all I was doing then was sun bathing and reading Harry Potter. But now school has started, stress is piling up and NOW is the perfect time for a visitor. There is no better guest than my &lt;a href="http://www.actfour.blogspot.com"&gt;mother&lt;/a&gt;! She has been my best friend since birth and is still to this day the only person I just can't lie to. As a kid, if anything happened in school or around the house I knew I would get in trouble for, I called my mother immediately. I found that if I told her first she was less mad than if she found out later. I loved to surprise my mother with things I would do around the house. One day I decided to shampoo the carpets. I did that a lot for extra money, but I decided to just be nice this time. I realized that we never clean under the couch, so tired to move it out of the way to do a thorough job. Well, I dented the wall trying to use it as leverage. I tried everything to fix that dent. I spackled and painted, but it was still obvious. So I called mom at work crying to tell her the news. She was very calm and said, "How can I be mad at you when you were trying to be helpful?" She is still the first person I call when I am sick, scared about a test, or just feel lonely. This picture was taken at a fall harvest festival. I believe this is the festival that I got stung inside my mouth by a bee enjoying my soda.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen her since the beginning of July, and since I have never lived more than an hour away from her, that's a long time! It was my mother's choice to not see me before I left, I think it would have been too hard for her. So today I have a list of things to do to get ready for my special guest. I must buy lots of wine, (the Unga-Chunga family LOVES to drink wine and stay up late) and buy some food since I'm assuming my mother doesn't want to eat ramine noodles and frozen lean pockets! I usually keep my apartment rather neat, though I will wash the sheets and scrub down the bathroom. Here are our weekend plans;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Friday night&lt;/em&gt;- Her flight arrives around 11:30 pm. That is really late for my mother so I'm not excepting much from her tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saturday morning&lt;/em&gt;- I know we'll be waking up early (that's what mom's do) and get ready for our day. We are having lunch with &lt;a href="http://www.RugDesigner.blogspot.com"&gt;RugDesigner&lt;/a&gt; and her husband around 11:30. I really can't wait to finally meet her! After lunch, mom and I plan to go to a birthday BBQ at a family friend's house. I hoping on Saturday night to get her to come downtown and listen to some music, we'll see how tired she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sunday-&lt;/em&gt; We will most likely sit by the pool (if Rita doesn't give us rain) and relax.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112748352600116422?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112748352600116422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112748352600116422&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112748352600116422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112748352600116422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/couldnt-have-come-at-better-time.html' title='Couldn&apos;t Have Come at a Better Time'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112742961366620123</id><published>2005-09-22T18:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T18:55:03.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A little Bit of Girl Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0947.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_0947.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night Katie and I decided we need to get off our asses and meet some people! So Katie came over around 8:30 and while we were out on the patio talking, my neighbor came out to talk with us. My neighbor is Jackie, she works at Outback with me. She invited us to hang out with a group of the "cool" people from Outback. I got her number to met up with her later. :o) Good start already! So then Katie and I went to a bar near school that had karaoke. Katie really enjoys to sing as much as I do. Within a few minutes we made friends with quite a few people. Our favorite was Tim. He is a mechanic by day and a singer/songwriter every other moment. He and I talked about music and how he is trying to learn every instrument, I CAN HELP WITH THAT! He ended up meeting us at the bowling alley where all the Outbackers were hanging out. It was really nice to be around different people and to stop thinking about all the drama. After the bowling alley, we went to another bar near school where we met up with some of Tim's musician friends. I really had a great time and I'm excited that I made some new friends. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OH! Good news! That really hard test I took on Tuesday, got a B+! So even with drama I can stay focused and get stuff done. Go me! I have a math test tomorrow but we can use our notes, so I'm not worried. I also wrote EVERYthing in my notes so I'll have no reason to not do well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One last thing before I go, I want to thank you all for your advice and comments. It's nice to know I can lean on you for good, bad, and just F**#ed up situations. I'm so happy I started writing in this blog. (Tra, La, La, La, La!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112742961366620123?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112742961366620123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112742961366620123&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112742961366620123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112742961366620123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/little-bit-of-girl-time.html' title='A little Bit of Girl Time'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112731078376284308</id><published>2005-09-21T09:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T16:13:39.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'>After Counseling From My Elders</title><content type='html'>It's interesting to see this situation from different view points. Some of my friends my own age are giving me advice as to how to get past all the drama and forgive. We discuss ways to save my relationship with Kassi and then how to separately save my relationship with Michael. I talked to them both and we tried to set up times to do rebuild the relationships. As I talked to Michael and as Kassi and I played phone tag, it hit me. They aren't ever really going to see me point! I've spelled it out face to face with them both but they still don't see it. All day long yesterday I was stressed about how to take my REALLY hard mass media test and deal with the frustration of not being understood. Finally, I read the blog entries my friends had written and it started to make sense. People with more life experience and those that have seen people like this before gave the best advice. This is trouble! There are too many wonderful people in the world to hang on to people that betray you and who misunderstand you. Finally Mommak called and she puts things in a perspective that only a loving sister can. I expressed earlier what kind of friends I like to surround myself with and I can't make any exceptions. Why would I give someone who has hurt me this much, the chance to do it again? I mean this all really could have been a lot worse. What if this all happened after I've given months and months of friendship and love to them? It doesn't matter what reasons are given, and it doesn't matter how much they might want to make me feel guilty. The bottom line is, I choose to start over with the good friends I have and rebuild. I was afraid to do that at first because I haven't made a lot of friends here, so I was nervous that if I didn't get over this I would loose two of them. But I can't look at it that way. I have a whole city of people to find friends in, I don't have to hang on to those that hurt me. I also think Michael and Kassi were trying so hard to fix things for this same reason. All of us are pretty new to this area and don't have a ton of friends. But we all have a chance here to take what we've learned and start over, Kassi with Michael, and me with Tera and Katie. Sometimes life changes in a way you didn't plan, but everything happens for a reason. Wish us all good luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112731078376284308?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112731078376284308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112731078376284308&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112731078376284308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112731078376284308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/after-counseling-from-my-elders.html' title='After Counseling From My Elders'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112727087538055465</id><published>2005-09-20T21:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T10:07:48.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Effort to Lighten the Mood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/DCPdog6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px" height="249" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/DCPdog6.jpg" width="290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had my little Bailey in my life for two years now. Brendan and I decided to buy her right after I graduated college. We did not agree on names for her, I wanted to name her Reba and I think he wanted to name her...Something that had to do with football. We decided on a liquor....Since we both like to drink! :o) When we got her, she had no brown in her face and was about 8 inches long. Her paws were so tiny and she didn't have her black spots on her belly, which Jack Russells are known for.&lt;br /&gt;After Brendan and I split up (the first time) I decided I was going to keep the dog. I loved her so much already and couldn't image life without her. Even though she ate every pair of flip-flops I owned and Loved my dirty underwear....I couldn't live without her. My sweet hyper-active, non-barking dog has served a great purpose the last two months. She has been my best friend and my teddybear. She can't bark because her vocal chords don't vibrate correctly. I don't think she knows the difference though. She tries and tries. She also sleeps under the covers between my legs every night. I don't know how she does it. Now my sweet little dog is 16.6 pounds and won't get any bigger. She has her spots and a crazy personality to match. I couldn't ask for a more loving and spirited friend. So this is me getting back to the basics. Appreciating the little things in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112727087538055465?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112727087538055465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112727087538055465&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112727087538055465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112727087538055465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-effort-to-lighten-mood.html' title='My Effort to Lighten the Mood'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112723048516830860</id><published>2005-09-20T11:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T15:28:24.606-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hit Blindsided!</title><content type='html'>Though I have had trouble in the past with true friendship, I always thought of myself as a good judge of character. If I smell something suspicious I uncover the fallacy and either forgive, or walk away. The best way to explain everything that has happened the last few days, I will direct you right to the horses month, &lt;a href="http://www.kassikrueger.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kassi.&lt;/a&gt; I'm sending you there because she wrote a long blog discussing the situation from her side. A man I was seeing (but didn't work out with) is now seeing Kassi. They went about their affair behind my back simply because they KNEW it would hurt me. These are two of the four people I know in Tennessee, and I don't know how to stay friends with them. In their perfect world, they want me to except that they want to date and still hang out and we all be best friends (La, La, La, La, La) Well, it isn't that simple. Before I really knew what &lt;a href="http://micadoo.blogspot.com"&gt;Michael&lt;/a&gt; and I were going to do with our failing ROMANTIC relationship, I confided in Kassi. Little did I know she was going right back to him and telling him everything I said! In my mind I have two options;&lt;br /&gt;1. I back away and allow myself to meet some new people.Maybe join a club at school and detach myself from all this drama.&lt;br /&gt;2. I try to pretend that this all didn't just hit me like a ton of bricks and try to be friends with them both. Put my hurt feelings aside in the name of "new love." Because "if I really cared about them, I would understand."&lt;br /&gt;The problem with the latter option, is that I have successful gone through therapy allowing myself to comfort feelings I don't like and teach people how I want to be treated. I feel this is huge step back! But there is that little voice in my head that says, "If you don't get past this you will be alone." DAMNIT! I don't want to depend on people that hurt me just to have a warm body to talk to. What do I do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112723048516830860?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112723048516830860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112723048516830860&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112723048516830860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112723048516830860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/hit-blindsided.html' title='Hit Blindsided!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112716406458749550</id><published>2005-09-19T16:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T17:47:46.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Football</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0918.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px" height="238" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_0918.jpg" width="254" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0921.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" height="218" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_0921.jpg" width="238" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to my first Middle Tennessee football game on Saturday! Tera, Tera's friend Russ, Katie, Katie's friend Reagan, and myself all met at the game. Our intention was to tailgate but we got a late start and didn't get to the game until after kick-off (oops!) I really like the MTSU stadium. Everything is brand new and you have a perfect view of the field from every seat. Except Tera's because there were two guys standing up right in her way and she didn't see half the game! I was really interested in seeing the marching band, since I had to do that for two years in Maryland. They didn't do very complicated drills, but the music was fun and there were a ton of them! They had the actual band, color guard, baton twirlers, and a dance team all performing together. My favorite part though was after their half time show the band all rushed the student seats and played the school fight song right in front of us! It was fun. We actually didn't end up staying for the whole game because we were hot and hungry! I don't even know the final score!&lt;br /&gt;I also had tickets to the Baltimore Ravens vs. Tennessee Titans game. I have ever been to a professional football game and was really excited about going. Russ had two tickets for free and all I had to do was find someone to cover my shift at work. BUT NO! No one would pick up my shift. Out of 20 some servers....Everyone was busy. So my ticket is unused and I watched the game in the Outback lounge since I had no tables anyway! At least the Eagles won!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112716406458749550?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112716406458749550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112716406458749550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112716406458749550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112716406458749550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/weekend-football.html' title='Weekend Football'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112714879055925296</id><published>2005-09-19T12:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T12:55:26.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Stress of Money!</title><content type='html'>For the last two weeks I have been trying to pick up shifts at the restaurant to try to make enough money to pay rent and bills. I have gotten the shifts but not the money! People in Tennessee do NOT know how to tip! 20% you cheap skates! The last two Sundays have been an exceptional waste of time. Outback now opens at noon, only on Sunday, and I really don't think our managers have figured out how to schedule the servers. All 15 to 20 of us are there at noon ready for the 10 tables that come in the restaurant! From noon-3 yesterday I had one table that tipped me THREE DOLLARS! Around 3:00 I have another table that tipped me another THREE DOLLARS! After 5:00 things finally picked up, but we close at 9:00 on Sundays so that didn't leave enough time to make a difference. After working 91/2 hours, I walked out the door with only $50. :o(&lt;br /&gt;So something has GOT to change! I applied online last night for a paid internship with Enterprise Rental Car. I hear they are flexible with students and pay well. So cross your fingers!&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone else have any suggestions for a good paying job that will work with my schedule?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112714879055925296?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112714879055925296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112714879055925296&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112714879055925296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112714879055925296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/stress-of-money.html' title='The Stress of Money!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112689895557899981</id><published>2005-09-16T14:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T15:29:15.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Level of Friendship</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/scan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/scan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in middle school I was not a good judge of friends. I allowed myself to be around people that continually let me down. They walked all over me and made fun of me behind my back. Well, in high school I was determined to see through people like that. That might be why I didn't really make good friends with anyone from my school. I went to an all girl's high school and kind of fit into every group. I was a musician, an athletic, and did well in school. I seemed to find my good friends in out of school activities like county orchestra's or honor bands. I was getting better at filtering out people that weren't helping me develop as an adult. By college I had a group of three girls that I did just about everything with. I loved my college life, but I hardly talk to those girls now. By the end of college I finally did it. I finally found the three women that made me laugh and challenged me to be better. Katie, Amy and Jessi have become the standard which I now judge new friends against. Any new friends must have Amy's sense of humor and fun side with Katie's power to motivate and inspire and, of course, Jessi's wiliness to listen and help with any problem at any time of day. These women have many other awesome qualities but these are some of my favorites.&lt;br /&gt;So what does this have to do with? Well I'm starting another chapter in my life and I'm going through some of the same processes I went through when I entered high school and college. I know what kind of people I want to surround me and what I need from them. Mainly, I need trust. The most important thing I learned from my therapist was that I have to teach people how I want to be treated. I can't assume that others will understand my unsaid friendship rules. I have to educate them about what hurts me and what impresses me. It's hard going through all this again, since I finally found the friendships that made me whole. I have faith that I am here for a reason. There are people I am destined to meet and who may change my life.&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I am continuing the Birthday celebration with Tera and her friends from home. We are going to the MTSU football game tomorrow and I think we are going to some local bars afterwards. If I get my shift covered at work I can go to a TN Titans game. If I go to that, then I miss the Eagles game at 1:00PM. Tough Call!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112689895557899981?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112689895557899981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112689895557899981&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112689895557899981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112689895557899981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/level-of-friendship.html' title='Level of Friendship'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112682318972735306</id><published>2005-09-15T17:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T14:37:49.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday To ME!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0916.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 109px" height="138" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/200/100_0916.jpg" width="161" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today I turned 25 years old! I decided last night to change my hair color. I loved it's color before I left Maryland because it was red with multiple highlights. . It was dark and had a lot of red highlights. Well with two weeks in the sun, my hair was looking too blonde. Nothing against blondes but I don't look good as one. So I went dark again. It turned out a little more red than I wanted, but you be the judge. This may not be a great pictures but it's the best I can do by myself!&lt;br /&gt;I have received a lot of "Happy Birthdays," thank you all so much for remembering. I have received three gifts so far and I wanted to share them with you. The first is a Rachel Ray 30 minute cook book. I don't cook but really want to learn and become more domestic. I also got my favorite Yankee Candle from Jessi. It's Midsummer's Night. I like it because it smells like a guy's cologne. :o)&lt;br /&gt;Tera took me to lunch at a Mexican restaurant where I was sung to with a sombrero on my head. To make things every more embarrassing, the servers feed my whip cream and missed twice! Once on my chin and once on my nose. I wish I had a picture to show you. After class, Katie and Kassi took me to Outback for "Happy Hour" Then Kassi, Michael and I went downtown to Printer's Alley. There is a great little bar there where I heard two girls sing. I got there information and I want to look into getting them some more shows! So all in all, it was a good day! Thank you everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112682318972735306?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112682318972735306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112682318972735306&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112682318972735306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112682318972735306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday To ME!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112674493872420958</id><published>2005-09-14T20:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T20:53:17.770-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/TN%20girls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/TN%20girls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have finally gotten the time to upload some pictures. I believe this was two weeks ago. It was taken in the living room of my new apartment. We were playing "Power Hour"and for those of you who haven't been in college for a while, I'll refresh your memory. Power hour is when you take a shot of beer once per minute for an hour. You end up drinking about 8 beers in an hour. We haven't made it to an hour yet...We are light weights. Starting from the girl with Bailey we have Brittany and then in Blue we have Katie. Kassi is in front in the red T-shirt and my southern Bell Tera is in black next to me. These are MY GIRLS! Check out &lt;a href="http://www.kassikrueger.blogspot.com"&gt;Kassi&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.shinninonnashville.blogspot.com"&gt;Tera's&lt;/a&gt; blogs as well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well tomorrow is the big day! Today I got three cards in the mail. One from my mother, Nana, and best friend Jeff. Keep them coming!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112674493872420958?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112674493872420958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112674493872420958&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112674493872420958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112674493872420958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-new-friends.html' title='My New Friends'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112649611147656009</id><published>2005-09-11T23:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T23:35:11.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Teaching a class full of innocent children&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Driving down some cold interstate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you feel guilty cause you're a survivor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In a crowded room did you feel alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you dust off that bible at home&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Close your eyes and not go to sleep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you notice the sunset the first time in ages&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Speak with some stranger on the street&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Go out and buy you a gun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watching&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And turn on "I Love Lucy" reruns&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you go to a church and hold hands with some stranger&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stand in line and give your own blood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank God you had somebody to love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm just a singer of simple songs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm not a real political man&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The difference in Iraq and Iran&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I know Jesus and I talk to God&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I remember this from when I was young&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the greatest is love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;By. Alan Jackson&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This verse of this song makes me think of so much. My sister is a 2nd grade teacher and I wonder how teachers explained that to young children. He talks about calling your mother, and she was the first person I called as well. I was walking out of sign language class four days before my 21st birthday and EVERYONE was on their phone. This tragedy pulled us together as a Nation while it pulled families apart with death. We remember today all the firemen and police officers who lost their lives trying to save as many precious mothers and fathers as they could. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;God Bless America and please protect us from further tragedy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112649611147656009?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112649611147656009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112649611147656009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112649611147656009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112649611147656009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/where-were-you-when-world-stopped.html' title='Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112638152561556629</id><published>2005-09-10T15:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T18:12:58.223-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maryland</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've been thinking, I've been thinking I've been thinking too much&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I just wanna live now for little while and cast my dreams to the wind.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't wanna wonder don't wanna wonder what it's all about&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm just working for a living singing with my friends as I cast my dreams to the wind. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maryland I'm coming Home&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Never worry about what I did wrong and &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;that I'll never be what my daddy wanted me to be&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll never see what my momma's dreams were&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;By Vonda Shepherd&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Even though I have moments of doubt and loneness, I know that when I look back on this time in my life I can say that I DID see my mother's dreams and my own. I do think I've been thinking too much and need to relax and take one day at a time. This past week I wasn't feeling well and I started working a lot. The professors at school scared me a little and I needed to re-group. Nothing worth getting is easy to get or everyone would have it...Right? So I'm refocusing here. I am typing up my notes after my hard classes to make sure I understand everything. I'm working a lot which tow things for me, 1 I save/earn money, 2 I'm so damn tired after work I stay home so it's easy to wake up in the morning for class. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My puppy Bailey has been sick this week. To spare you the nasty details, she wasn't making it outside. "Gotta, go gotta go right now!" Yesterday morning Bailey woke up and crawled out from under the covers. She say right under my arm and threw up on my bed and me! I jumped up, threw the sheets in the wash...And went back to bed until 11. At that point I found a Vet, thanks Kassi, and we were seen at 11:30. Everyone loved my cute little puppy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I now have a stie (not sure how to spell it) on my left eye. What is with this place? When I first moved here my face broke out like a 13 year old girl! Thank God I finally got that resolved! And now this! It isn't bad and I don't know if people really even notice it, but everything I look straight I see it in my line of sight. It's giving me a headache.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;There are two days until my birthday...I have to say that enough though I don't have the birthday mug, I'm still really excited. I know my mother already has cards in the mail. I LOVE MAIL! My spirits are up and I"m motivated to make this the best decision of my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112638152561556629?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112638152561556629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112638152561556629&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112638152561556629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112638152561556629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/maryland.html' title='Maryland'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112624618780075852</id><published>2005-09-09T01:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T02:09:47.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All Within One Day</title><content type='html'>It's funny how in one day your attitude can change so drastically and how much little things can ruin a perfectly good day. I went out until about midnight last night with my friend Kassi. We went to a local restaurant to hear a guy sing we had met the weekend before. She and I weren't drinking so waking up for my 8:00AM class this morning was no problem. I also really like my 8:00AM class so I don't know if even a hangover would keep me from it. But anyway, I go to class and sit next to the people I WANT to be friends with but still haven't spoken to and allow myself to emerge into the four big Record Companies that monopolize the record industry.&lt;br /&gt;After class I was awake and ready to get a lot of errands accomplished. I went to the grocery store for the first time in a month and actually had money to pay for it! :o) I bought a lot of fruits and veggies and cut them up when I got home so they are ready to eat. If I don't do this then they will sit in the bottom of my fridge and dead a slow death. Lovely right?&lt;br /&gt;Then I went to my second class which I usually LOVE. It's Mass Media and the professor is really funny. But today, he was not so funny. I didn't follow the relevancy of his notes and couldn't decipher what was really important. That was frustrating, but it didn't ruin the day. I went to work and had lovely customers all night. I even sat down with a food critic and we talked for about a half hour. From there I went to my favorite past time, KARAOKE! This is where my day ends up in the shit hole. Karaoke in Murfreesboro is not the same as in Baltimore. They don't have the "Karaoke Rule Book" down here. :o) The bar was PACTED with people all about my age but I still felt older! People were loud and drunk and my patience was wearing thin. To top it off, I can't drink until Tuesday because of the medicine I'm taking! AHHHH!!!! I don't know, maybe I grew up too fast and now all this college shit is getting on my nerves! I miss the Ridge Inn and all my karaoke regulars! I miss being able to walk into the bar and know at least 10 people! I miss not even having to look up songs because Galen would put me in the rotation and find out what song I want to sing when I got up there! I miss sitting at home and watching my digital cable under two blankets! I really miss watching Law and Order SVU every night at 10 and 11! I know things will get better and maybe I won't miss Maryland as much soon....But tonight I just wish I could have gone somewhere low key like all my favorite spots in Baltimore. That's enough wining for one night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112624618780075852?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112624618780075852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112624618780075852&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112624618780075852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112624618780075852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/all-within-one-day.html' title='All Within One Day'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112602767172810105</id><published>2005-09-06T13:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T13:42:12.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Wanna See You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't wanna see you, or feel you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't wanna look into your eyes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't wanna touch you or miss you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I just wanna love your memory tonight.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;by Miranda Lambert&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I thought of this verse today because I feel this way about my X-boyfriend Brendan. Yes the one I had so many problems with and the one I knew  wasn't right for me. If you don't know what I'm talking about, read my first blog entry. I haven't spoken to him since before I left Maryland. This is really the best thing for me since it has always been hard to remove him from my life. Now it looks like he is really gone and I can take what I've learned from that relationship and apply it to new prospects. After being with Brendan for two years I found out that I need my mate to be my bestfriend and my lover. I feel Brendan was more of a best friend than both. I could tell him anything and I loved hearing what he had to say. What I know I need now is mutual respect. I have to be just as proud of him as he is of me. I find that some men really admire what I'm doing out here and how I up and changed my life to try to find complete happiness. But unfortunately I don't always look at their life and goals in the same light. I sometimes try to convince myself that their career goals aren't important, but they really are. Don't misunderstand me, I don't need a rich husband I just want a man that is proud of what he does and who is always working to better himself. Stagnate men do not turn me on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I think about this now because I'm getting older (25 in nine days) and my reason for selecting a particular mate is more established and focused. I don't just judge him on looks anymore. There is a process. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1. See an attractive TALL male &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2. Get close enough to see if there is a ring on the left hand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;3.Watch the way he interacts with his friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Loud and annoying guys could be ruled out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;4.Once you start talking, look for a good sense of humor and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm a sucker for nice teeth and laugh lines by his eyes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;5. Check his age, I don't want someone younger and not someone my father's age.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;6. See what he does for a living. Again, it doesn't so much matter whether he is a teacher, computer software guy, or a doctor, but I want him to be proud of what he does and to really want to be the best he can. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;From there it's just a matter of chemistry and how well our personalities fit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But as exciting as it is to meet someone new, there is a sad feeling of starting over. Reteaching someone about you and learning someone else's quirks. What you got away with in one relationship may not fly in another. But even more of an issue is knowing your much farther away from marriage and children. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;PS. I went to the doctor today and I feel MUCH better. Thanks everyone for checking up on me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112602767172810105?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112602767172810105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112602767172810105&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112602767172810105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112602767172810105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-dont-wanna-see-you.html' title='I Don&apos;t Wanna See You'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112559462036857922</id><published>2005-09-01T12:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T13:14:10.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Count Down</title><content type='html'>I love September! It's my birthday month and my favorite time of year. Maryland has wonderful foliage that I sure will miss. I remember when my sister and I  were younger we were paid to rake the leaves in our back yard. My step-dad made a deal with us to pay us by the hour :0) Guess how long that took? Well AM and I would rake pathways through the backyard and use them as streets. Then we would makes HUGE piles and jump in them like every kid does. We would sing songs and have a good old time! We thought we were tricking my step-dad by taking so long to rake the leaves, but I found out later that it didn't matter how long it took us, we were getting the same amount. I wonder if autumn in Tennessee is as beautiful as in Maryland. That might be a reason to not love it here, besides that lack of beaches.&lt;br /&gt;Another reason to love September is that my birthday resides in this month. This year I turn 25 on the 15th. Twenty five years old....It's amazing that when my sisters reached this age I thought it would be so cool to be that age, but now that I am...It's not as cool. Though I love how my mother has always managed to make my birthday incredibility special. My favorite little tradition that I think I was the only one of the girls to really get much enjoyment out of, was the birthday mug. My mother had a coffee mug that said "Happy Birthday" on it. We were only aloud to use it during our birthday week. From the Sunday before to the Sunday after your birthday you could use the birthday mug. I LIVED FOR THAT THING! Once I moved away for college my mother knew how much I loved receiving mail, so she would send my at least four birthday cards! Over the years I have saved the really sweet ones and love to read them when I feel a little down on myself. A mother's words has a funny way of making you feel better. Which is why I have to call her ever time I get even a cold. :o)&lt;br /&gt;My mother is continuing her tradition of making my birthday special by flying out here the weekend after my birthday. I can't wait to introduce her to my friends and show her around.&lt;br /&gt;Let the Birthday Count Down Begin! 14 more days of anticipation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112559462036857922?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112559462036857922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112559462036857922&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112559462036857922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112559462036857922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/09/birthday-count-down.html' title='Birthday Count Down'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112535174646288021</id><published>2005-08-29T17:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T17:42:26.476-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day Back to School</title><content type='html'>I had two classes today, College Algebra and history of Recording Industry. It has been raining for the last few days, and today was no different. I do not own and umbrella, which will have to change soon. I had to walk for about a mile from my parking space to class. I bet there is a better place to park and an easier route around campus than the one I took...But I went with what I knew. It's was funny watching the Freshman though. It least I knew how to read the maps and found my classes ok, so many Freshman look scared and lost. It's cute.&lt;br /&gt;My math professor is Russian and has a thick accent (what's with all the crazy accents recently?) He spent exactly 7 minutes talking about the the location of our classroom. He said that if the math department decided to move our classroom he would tell us but that he didn't think that was likely. 7 MINUTES he talked about that. He is really sweet and I think the class will be a breeze.&lt;br /&gt;My Recording Industry class is in a huge lecture hall with about 120 other Recording Industry majors. I heard a guy talking in front of me and he said this was his second time taking the class and that the average grade in here is a C. Two other guys around him said they too were taking it for the second time. I hope that just guys do poorly in that class because I can't afford to take that class again!&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I have three more recording industry classes, lets hope they aren't as hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112535174646288021?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112535174646288021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112535174646288021&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112535174646288021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112535174646288021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/08/first-day-back-to-school.html' title='First Day Back to School'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112516608304934027</id><published>2005-08-27T14:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T14:08:03.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School Anxiety</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night that I was in a history class taking a test. For some reason the teacher gave us a test that you need black light to read. :o) don't you just love dreams? Anyway, I couldn't see the questions! The whole time everyone else is reading and blissfully answering the questions while I couldn't even see them! Finally the I turn the next page and I'm reading questions that I have NEVER learned anything about. I don't know if I didn't go to class or if I just didn't pay attention when I was there, but I was not prepared!&lt;br /&gt;I think I am having school anxiety! Classes start on Monday and I just got my books two days ago. I was looking through the books and they look interesting, but I haven't been a student in three years and I'm a little nervous. I hope these dreams stop! Does anyone else have dreams when they are nervous?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112516608304934027?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112516608304934027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112516608304934027&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112516608304934027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112516608304934027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/08/school-anxiety.html' title='School Anxiety'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112494710121587089</id><published>2005-08-25T01:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-25T05:35:50.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog Friend</title><content type='html'>I met a guy out here named Michael and he has a blog too! He is a professional poker player and writes about it on his blog. Check him out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://micadoo.blogspot.com"&gt;Micadoo.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112494710121587089?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112494710121587089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112494710121587089&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112494710121587089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112494710121587089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/08/new-blog-friend.html' title='New Blog Friend'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112489634230024006</id><published>2005-08-24T10:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T11:19:00.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Southern Accent</title><content type='html'>When you grow up in my family, your grammar is corrected every day. You didn't say "funner" or "I did really good" that is poor grammar! People in the south don't worry about that at all! I, of course, say "You all" while Tera and many other southerners say "yawl." Though I've been standing strong to keep my Northern roots and well educated grammar, it's just a matter of time before they ware me down. My favorite word that Tera says is "white" because when she says it, I swear it sound more like "wwhhet" She holds that w for as long as she can. :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My manager at OUTBACK was saying that many servers feel they get better tips from tourist with they fake a southern accent. I guess people vacation out here and wear their pink straw cowboy hats and expect to see a whole world of cowboys, southern accents and country music. We wouldn't want to disappoint them. So I do think I'll be FROM the south when I wait tables. :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One northern habit they won't break is my love for the Phiadelphia Eagles! I found a bar down here that is an Eagles bar and I have my calendar marked for all their games. Every one down here is either a Titans fan or a Cowboys fan...YUCK! Their first regular season game is against the Falcons on Sept. 12th.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112489634230024006?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112489634230024006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112489634230024006&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112489634230024006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112489634230024006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/08/southern-accent.html' title='The Southern Accent'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112457328583867489</id><published>2005-08-20T17:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-23T17:21:29.713-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally have the Internet!</title><content type='html'>After three weeks of living here I am finally able to access the internet from my apartment! THANK GOD!&lt;br /&gt;This is what my apartment looks like from the out side. If you look carefully in the bottom left window you will see Bailey peeking out wondering what the hell I'm doing. :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_08791.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" height="174" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_08791.JPG" width="228" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, things are going must better now! I do have a few friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;TERA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I met her at orientation in June. She is also a Recording Industry major but is focusing on Production not Music Business. She lives about 20 minutes from my apartment, but that hasn't stopped us from hanging out! So far she is my best friend in Nashville! She has a little dog named Bell but with her accent I thought the dog's name was Bail. She is from Louisiana so her accent is really thick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KATIE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- She is my insurance agent's niece. :o) she is also a recording industry major. I have only hung out with her once, but we had a great time. We went out to dinner and then KARAOKE. She is a really good singer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MICHAEL and ROB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- Amy and I went downtown last weekend and met Michael. He bought us drinks and hung out with us the whole night. The next night we went dancing with him and his friend Rob. It was really fun, but people line dance differently down here so all that practice I did in Maryland didn't help much. :o( Michael also took Amy and I to play miniature golf and ride Go-carts on Sunday before Amy's flight home. We really had a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KASSI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- Kassi is the newest of my friends here, and I think has the possibility of being a really good friend. She works at OUTBACK with me. Yesterday, she and I met Michael and Rob from the Cowboys game (don't worry mommak I wasn't routing for Dallas). We played Quarters at the bar and laughed all night! It was really fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...I do have a limited life out here. I do really miss Katie, Amy, Jessi, Anna, Tim, and my awesome family, but at least Bailey isn't my only friend here. :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. RugDesigner, I got your message today and will call you later! Thanks for thinking of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112457328583867489?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112457328583867489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112457328583867489&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112457328583867489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112457328583867489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-finally-have-internet.html' title='I finally have the Internet!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112412631965182953</id><published>2005-08-15T12:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T13:18:39.963-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Week Status Report!</title><content type='html'>Within the two weeks I've been here I have accomplished a short list.&lt;br /&gt;1). I have gone on four interviews (don't get excited, they were all for the same damn waitress job!!!). Outback apparently has a tough application process. I have been hired and have one orientation and two classrooms before I can actually start working! I can honestly say that this job better be f*^%ing awesome for all this screening stuff.&lt;br /&gt;2). I have paid tuition, set up my student loan, and got my parking permit. While I was on my way over to the parking permit place, I walked with a girl who SEEMED nice, but with in our short walk she revealed her true self. During the walk across the street, I learned that this girl was an incoming freshmen who grew up here in Nashville but doesn't have friends since she is so mean to them. NICE!&lt;br /&gt;3). I have become a Harry Potter junky! I remember when the Harry Potter books first came out, my friend David and I chose to fight the trend and NOT read the books. We did go to the movies, but didn't play into the hype! Well I decided it was time to catch up. I just finished the forth book and plan to start the fifth this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;4). I have created an indent in my favorite lawn chair by the pool where I read Harry and work on my wonderful golden tan!&lt;br /&gt;5). My only human conversation before this weekend (besides friends and family from home) have been only two instances. When I was walking Bailey (my dog) a girl about 13 spotted us. Ever since then whenever she sees me, whether it's at the pool or on a walk, she talks my DAMN ear off! Usually our conversations pertain to the celebrities her little friends are in love with. SHOOT ME! The second instance was when I bought a desk that was too heavy for me to carry. I tried for about a half hour to get this desk inside and finally sucked it up and asked the guys who live upstairs to help me. They were very eager to help and I spoke with them briefly to see if they were possible friend material. I keep hoping that they will knock on my door and invite me to some really cool party, but they haven't. :o(&lt;br /&gt;This slow life is really hard to get used to since this summer I was going out just about every night (sorry mom). Now I'm already stuck in a routine, I fear, is a lot like my grandmother's. I wake up earlier than someone with a whole day to fill up should. I try to prolong the actual act of removing the covers by reading a little Harry, but eventually Bailey can't hold her pee any longer. So we get up, have some breakfast and watch one of the 12 channels I have. Then around ten, Bailey and I go for a jog/fast walk. That is usually an ego boost since I have so many construction workers in my neighborhood. By the time Bailey and I get home, we are so tired all we can do is sit there and wait for our bodies to stop sweating! On most days I've been going into Outback for a ten minute interview. This really bothers me because I, of course, have to shower for this but it only last ten minutes and then I'm back hanging out at the pool! What a waste of expensive shampoo!&lt;br /&gt;Though my life looks like I have no concerns, I really do. My three close friends live together and two of them are not getting along. This, of course, has effected all of them. They have discontinued their lease and are all looking into separate living options. Oh I wish I could be there for them. I'm 800 miles away and feel helpless. Ladies, I love you and will do whatever I can from here!&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note. I HAVE ONE FRIEND! Tera, a girl I met at orientation, moved here this weekend. We went out Saturday and I think I'm having dinner with her tonight. Thank God!&lt;br /&gt;Well I told you I would give you a play-by-play of my life here, I bet you thought it would be more exciting! ME TOO!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112412631965182953?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112412631965182953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112412631965182953&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112412631965182953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112412631965182953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/08/two-week-status-report.html' title='Two Week Status Report!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112344742918299832</id><published>2005-08-07T16:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-07T16:43:49.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I MADE IT!!!</title><content type='html'>I would have written sooner, but I don't have the internet yet! I'm using the computer in the leasing office, but hope to have my own computer ready by the end of the week.&lt;br /&gt;The trip down took about 12 hours, but it was easy and painless. My sister, her boyfriend and my best friend took the trip with me. Once we finally got in and unpacked a bit, we went downtown for some live music. We really had a great time! Monday we went to the pool for a handstand contest and then went to eat  at Outback for dinner. After dinner we made our way downtown again (this time we didn't get lost) to my favorite bar Tootsies! Again, we had a wonderful time. The next morning I had to say goodbye to my sister and her boyfriend, tears were shed. Fortunately I still had my best friend for the remainder of the week.&lt;br /&gt;She and I spent the week shopping, reading, resting, and watching movies. It was a real vacation. But the time came last night that I had to say goodbye to her as well. As I walked out of the airport, it hit me. I was a mess! I stopped on the way home for some ice cream to make myself feel better.&lt;br /&gt;So today was my first day alone! I woke up early and took a run with my little Jack Russell, Bailey. I was hoping it would make her sleep all day, but no such luck. Then I scrapbooked and went to the pool. Tough life right? Tomorrow I continue my job hunt and I have to go to school to pay tuition! It might be awhile until I can write again, but I'll try to keep you posted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112344742918299832?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112344742918299832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112344742918299832&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112344742918299832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112344742918299832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-made-it.html' title='I MADE IT!!!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112263798117047489</id><published>2005-07-29T07:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-29T08:17:59.356-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Big Sister</title><content type='html'>My big sister is celebrating another birthday. She may not be excited about growing older, but I am and I'll tell you why.&lt;br /&gt;My sister went away to the Big Apple to study acting right out of high school. It was the first time I can remember that we hugged (expect when I was a baby I guess). It was when she left that I really started to want to have a good relationship with her. I wrote her a few harsh letters telling her what I bad sister she was and she wrote me back some of the kindest words I've ever read. I still keep those letters and read them in times of low self esteem. (I would have given written some in my blog but I've packed that box already!)&lt;br /&gt;Every year since then I've watched my sister develop into the most wonderful sister, friend, and mother.  She was blessed with an extraordinary husband, two beautiful girls, and two handsome boys. She has taught me compassion, organization, edict, and sisterhood. Not only has every year brought my sister growth, but it has also brought her closer to me. She and I have grown so much closer since her exodus at 18. Thank you Mommk and Happy Birthday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112263798117047489?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112263798117047489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112263798117047489&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112263798117047489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112263798117047489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/happy-birthday-big-sister.html' title='Happy Birthday Big Sister'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112243005054773674</id><published>2005-07-26T21:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T22:10:38.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've learned from my Therapist</title><content type='html'>It's amazing to me that seven months ago I was scared of conflict. I was afraid to confront my boyfriend, sisters, and friends. It was easier to just go along with what other people said than actually listen to myself and form my own opinion. Thankfully, my therapist was helped me focus on what I hear inside myself and to feel comfortable expressing it. I've wasted so much time, and will not allow anymore moments to slip by.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I can't make other people confront me! At my party on Sunday, a good friend overheard a comment that was heard out of context. She immediately thought I was talking about her, and she spent the last three hours up stairs angry with me. I thought she wasn't feeling well, so I didn't give her a hard time. It wasn't until the next day when I called to check on her, that I found any of this out. Why didn't she just pull me aside and ask me to explain? Why waste all that precious time upset about something that ended up not being about HER? It frustrates me that people allow little things to get in the way of friendship!&lt;br /&gt;Example number two, my "friend" Crystal. Back in March, Crystal and I went to a dance lesson together. We were excited to learn ballroom dancing and thought it would be fun to do together. The first night was awesome. We were quick learners and our teacher was really fun. It was expensive but we worked it out. The next week I got to our lesson early. I called her about 10 minutes before class to tell her I was there, no answer. I called her 10 minutes later, no answer. I rescheduled for later that evening and went next door for coffee. I started to get nervous, but then again, she makes plans all the time and is then un available. I was starting to get really upset and the messages got more and more harsh. I didn't go back to the lesson because I didn't have a PARTNER! The next day she left me a mean message saying she had an emergency. Long story short, we haven't spoke since. She would rather stop being friends with me than confront me. Where is the logic in that? When asked to come to the party on Sunday, she said it would just be too hard. :o(&lt;br /&gt;I think everybody needs a therapist. Everyone needs to talk and have someone completely listen to them. Even if you just need help communicating, it's WORTH IT! (and honestly, most people have WAY BIGGER issues) We need to stop wasting time on stupid issues and cherish the time we have together, because you never know when your friend will just up and move out of state! :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112243005054773674?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112243005054773674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112243005054773674&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112243005054773674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112243005054773674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/what-ive-learned-from-my-therapist.html' title='What I&apos;ve learned from my Therapist'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112230318912535731</id><published>2005-07-25T09:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-25T21:05:31.410-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying Goodbye</title><content type='html'>Time ticks on at the same pace no matter how much you want to hold on to it. I felt like I was clinging to ever moment this weekend, hoping it would last as long as possible.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I was able to be at my niece's build-a-bear birthday party, which was very cute. Then my sisters, brother-in-law and nieces all went to lunch. It was a one of those situations where you really want to have fun, but you are so fearful of the goodbye that you can't relax. MommaK and her husband gave me a wonderful going away gift. They gave me this awesome bag and a gift certificate that I can use when I move. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0815.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" height="144" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_0815.jpg" width="230" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tired to spend a lot of time with my older niece, since I think she understands a little more than the younger. But inevitably, we had to say goodbye. I was OK when I hugged my nieces, but once I hugged mommaK, I started to get really choked up. Then when my brother-in-law reminded me that he was here if I ever needed anything, I was fighting back tears. I didn't want to cry in the middle of the mall, nor did I want my nieces to see me make a scene. But I guess there just is not real good way to say goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was filled with hugs, tears, and goodbyes. My best friends threw me WONDERFUL going away party. It was perfect! Just about all my best friends and sister were there. We spent the day playing games and LOVING each other's company. I always knew I had great friends, but they really were over the top yesterday! They put together a poem made interiorly of country music song titles. They framed it and had everyone sign around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The first stanza reads like this,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's Your Song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;American Girl, Here for the Party You Can't Take the Honky Tonk Out of the Girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy, These are the Days, Knock Yourself Out&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0812.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="292" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_0812.jpg" width="170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hog Wild, It's all Good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Honestly, I wish I could write all the things people wrote about me, but that would  take up too much space and seem like I'm a little stuck up. :o) But I will tell you about two other gifts I received. The guy I'm seeing, Tim, is very attentive. A few months ago, I told him a story that really upset me. I told him that in college a friend gave me a bottle of 1998 Kendall Jackson Merlot and said not to open it until I was where I wanted to be in life. That was my 19th birthday and I was very excited to save it for the perfect moment. I didn't open it when I graduated, and didn't open it when I got my first teaching job. But at a party I was hosting, we ran out of wine and someone took that bottle off the shelf and drank it. I found the empty bottle in the morning. I was so upset because I thought it was a great gift idea. So Tim handed me  two cards and bag. The first card was just a cute funny card that came with the Dr. Seuss book "Oh, the Places You'll Go." The first page reads, "Congratulations! Today is your day. You're off to great places! You're off and away." Very true...I am off in five days! The second card was much sweeter! I have to write what he wrote because he is a very fine writer. He doesn't always say the right thing, but he sure can write it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;When Dreams take flight...Follow them. (the card cover)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It seems almost foolish to give you a card with this message; You practically wrote this message. Your strength and your passion amaze me, and you've left an impression on me that will last past forever. Some would say that time is an elusive thief that's run out on us, but I prefer to think of time as a companion who's always there reminding us how precious each moment is. None were more precious then the ones I spent with you. Thank you for your time and your love; I couldn't have asked for more! P.S. I know Merlot isn't your favorite, but I thought this particular vineyard's might be special. I'm not going to tell you to wait until you've&lt;br /&gt;"arrived" to drink this, because I hope you never do. Rather I hope you live in glorious bliss of always working and pushing for more and better. Just make this bottle &lt;u&gt;Special&lt;/u&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I was a little choked up after that message. He has a wonderful way of making me sound like a hero. :o) But there was still one more special gift. My best friend Jessi had worked on a photo album that showed our history together. It really is beautiful! She included a song she wrote. She and I sang this song at her senior recital and it had always meant a lot to both of us. But she has now dedicated it to me. Here is the refrain and third verse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Freeway, take me to a place that I can call my home. Freeway, looking for a love that I can call my own. This life I'm leading now, it ain't the right one for me. Georgia, West Virginia, Carolina, Maryland they ain't suiting me, Destination Tennessee. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Maybe I'll hit Memphis, sing the blues on southern summer nights. Then I'm off to Graceland to see myself if Elvis is still alive. Nashville, Here I come to sing about the love he left behind. All I've got now is a broken heart, my guitar and the Dixie line. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We spent the whole night outside on my good friends newly finished deck. She and her boyfriend did SO much work on their house for this party. I'm so grateful that I have such wonderful friends. Thank you all so much, I love you and will think about you everyday. &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/14155868-112230318912535731?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112230318912535731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112230318912535731&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112230318912535731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112230318912535731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/saying-goodbye.html' title='Saying Goodbye'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112203415347052525</id><published>2005-07-22T07:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T12:59:50.593-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratification</title><content type='html'>In one of my six schools this year, I started a guitar class. I have to have at least five students to even begin, but after many phone calls, we had enough. There were two boys and three girls. Three of the students had mother's that worked in the school, so it was easy to keep tabs on them. After the Christmas concert I found myself fighting to get them all to class. One girl left early every Thursday for fear of gym class, and of course guitar was always on Thursdays. The two boys made every decision together, so when one decided that learning to read music was too hard, the other did as well! SO there were two girls left. Ashley was practicing every night and the music came easy for her. Lizzy, on the other hand, had stickers all over the guitar's neck to show her where the notes were and STILL couldn't play. So when Lizzy dropped out I was not upset. It was finally a chance to see what Ashley could do.&lt;br /&gt;In one of our talks, I realized that she also loved country music....Wonderful! I started to teach her some of my favorite country songs starting with "When you say Nothing at All" by Allison Kraus and Union Station. She loved it! Her mom told me that she played the song night and day! Two weeks before the spring concert she told me she was not only ready to sing and play that song, but she had also WRITTEN HER OWN! I was so proud! We worked on her song and I sang harmony with her. The parents LOVED that concert. It took me an hour just to leave afterwards because of all the parents I had to talk to (I loved that)!&lt;br /&gt;Well once summer came I was in a tight spot. My company doesn't allow us to teach our band students during the summer because we have a summer program. BUT, there is no summer program for guitar, so I said F@*^ it, and taught her anyway. During the summer I was able to teach her about four songs, "Better things to Do" by Terri Clark, "Travelin' Soldier" by Dixie Chicks, "You're Still The One" by Shania Twain, and her favorite "Without You" by Dixie Chicks. I had to tell her and her mother Wednesday that I was moving and then unable to continue with lessons. Their faces looked like a truck hit them. Ashley got a little teary eyed and asked a TON of questions. Once she realized what I was going to be going to school for, she was comforted by the possibility that one day I could be her manager. :o) It was really hard to tell them I was leaving, I almost cried. When I got home yesterday Ashley had written me this e-mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hey Ms morhiser I just wanted to let u no that my mom got me a new guitar teacher but I don't think he is as good as you. I wish u didn't have to leave...Cause without u IM not okay n without you I've lost my way...Remember that line...Well just wanted to let u no GOOD LUCK n someday I hope u can be my manager&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lots of love n luck&lt;br /&gt;~Ashley~&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lyrics "without you I'm not OK, without you I've lost my way" are from her favorite song "Without You". Needless to say, I was a little misty after reading this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112203415347052525?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112203415347052525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112203415347052525&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112203415347052525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112203415347052525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/gratification.html' title='Gratification'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112179567385961809</id><published>2005-07-19T13:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T23:10:02.116-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hershey Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_0794.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_0794.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Amusement parks are usually a lot of fun, but when you are in charge of ten middle schoolers in scorching heat , it's less fun.&lt;br /&gt;The program I work for continues their musical education during the summer (and I have to work this camp whether I want to or NOT). We have six centers all around the city so students in all of our schools have a center close to them. The kids meet once a week for six weeks. They have three classes: a group lesson, sectional, and full band. We try to challenge the students by teaching them material we don't get to during the school year. Our program is so jam-pact that we don't have a chance to really go into music theory (which I love to teach).&lt;br /&gt;Anyway! As incentive to participate in summer band, we arrange for all the students to go to Hershey Park. The kids have the whole day to ride all the roller coasters and enjoy the Water park. I realized on this trip that I'm getting old! I used to spend the whole day in the sun attending in rides for hours and still have a GREAT time. Not anymore! I was cranky whenever I had to stand in line for more than 15 minutes, which was all the roller coasters. It was too hot and people were assholes! Cutting in line and standing WAY too close in the lines. I don't think people understand what personal space is. Long story short, amusement parks aren't what they used to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112179567385961809?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112179567385961809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112179567385961809&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112179567385961809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112179567385961809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/hershey-park.html' title='Hershey Park'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112164612385309701</id><published>2005-07-17T20:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T01:34:49.963-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Turning Point</title><content type='html'>I was about five years old when my mother re-married. He was walking into a very tough situation and was very brave for doing so. My two older sisters AM (7 years old) and mommak (12 years old) dealt with this change a little differently than I did. To me, he was my DAD! I even tired calling him that, but since everyone else called him Joe, it just stuck. He and I did many bonding activities through my youth. Hiking trips, T-ball games, and home repairs. But as I got older, he didn't know how to connect with me. We couldn't just take a ride and visit model homes on a Saturday morning. I was in high school then college and was just too busy. We had grown dramatically apart. My mother's decision to separate from my step-father this past winter added to the distance.&lt;br /&gt;He contacted me in December to have dinner and talk. I was happy to hear from him. I was proud of my mother for ablitly to do what was right for her, but I was also afriad I would lose ANOTHER father. We met for dinner and it quickly turned into an uncomfortable situation. He was asking me questions about my mother and if I ever saw the flaws in him that she saw. He was a different man, sad and a little disillusioned. Needless to say it was a very long dinner and I I hadn't seen him since.&lt;br /&gt;I sent him a Father's Day letter and picture. In the letter I told him of my plans to move and my goals once there. He then called to set up one last outing together before I left. I was a little nervous, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I'm very glad I went. We took an informative cruise around the harbor and had dinner at a local seafood place (somewhere a friend of his from work said was good). When we were there he gave me a letter he tired to send in response to my Father's Day letter. For some reason it was sent back to him.&lt;br /&gt;He was never the kind of man that displayed his emotions on his shoulder and he NEVER signed a birthday card, letter or even on left a message with anything other than Joe. But this letter was different. He wrote the following, and notice how he signed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Thank you for recognizing me on Father's Day and the picture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I miss you already BUT I am happy for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I know you will be successful, you always are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I am relieved knowing you have a family to assist you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I miss you (SAID THAT BEFORE)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I want you to be careful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I want to protect you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I am starting to remember you as a little girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I am blessed. Having the cutest girl in the world in my memory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I remember the bee sting at the park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I remember the allergy shots&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_07891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_07891.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I remember T-Ball&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I miss you (SAID THAT ALREADY)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I remember the doll house we built&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I remember the hikes we took&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I remember raking leaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I remember Kings Dominion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I remember so much &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;I miss you (SAID THAT ALREADY)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;DAD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAD!**** He finally called himself DAD! When I read that I started to cry. I wonder if this is really a turning point. I wonder if this is the start of something normal!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112164612385309701?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112164612385309701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112164612385309701&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112164612385309701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112164612385309701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/turning-point.html' title='A Turning Point'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112146130613986426</id><published>2005-07-15T16:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T17:05:40.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Karaoke Rules</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/singer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/singer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time, when I just went to the karaoke bar with friends to sing silly duets and drink beer. We would sing all the regular (now annoying) karaoke songs like "Summer Lovin," "Picture," and "I Will Survive." It wasn't about singing our best, it was about purely having fun. Even though I still LOVE karaoke, I am a bit of a prude when it comes to proper edict. There are actually a few rules to karaoke.&lt;br /&gt;1. If you are sitting really close to the singer, you don't sing louder than them!&lt;br /&gt;2. You don't sing a song someone else already sang, nor do you sing a song someone "usually" sings. **very important**&lt;br /&gt;3. You compliment Everyone, even if they weren't that good. At least they have the guts to get up there.&lt;br /&gt;4. When you go to a new karaoke bar, you should make good friends with the host. They will make sure you get your songs in. It helps to wear a low cut shirt. :o)&lt;br /&gt;5. You will get hit on by a man with missing teeth, be nice because he knows ALL the bartenders.&lt;br /&gt;6. Every bar has a singer that they feel is the best, be careful not to suddenly overshadow them. Ease into your best songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer I started to get into karaoke contests. I have won just about as many as I have lost. It's nice to earn a few hundred bucks doing what you love. I guess it just amazes me that more people don't sing karaoke. I think it is the most polite way to entertain. It doesn't matter what you look like, you just have to be able to sing more than three songs for people to be impressed. :o) Give it a try!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112146130613986426?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112146130613986426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112146130613986426&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112146130613986426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112146130613986426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/karaoke-rules.html' title='Karaoke Rules'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112139514593420215</id><published>2005-07-14T22:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T22:39:05.936-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Line Dancing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/dancing1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/dancing1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends and I have really gotten into country line dancing! The first night we went we were really intimidated by a few things actually. First of all, there are a lot of beautiful people that go to this club. Since I didn't know the people, I was uncomfortable.  Also the dance floor is full of cowboys and cowgirls two-stepin' and doing dances I have very seen. We didn't know ANY of the dances and were too embarrassed to get out there and try. It took us quite a few nights before we were brave enough to try the "En Paso," "Boot scootin' Boogie," and the "sidekick." Last night though, we lost all our inhabitation! We tried EVERY dance, and actually learned most of them. We had a few nice men as dance partners and teachers.  I had a wonderful "girls-night-out." I can't wait until next Wednesday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112139514593420215?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112139514593420215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112139514593420215&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112139514593420215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112139514593420215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/line-dancing.html' title='Line Dancing'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112105129957661126</id><published>2005-07-10T22:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-11T14:24:18.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Wedding</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/100_05291.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px" height="213" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/100_05291.JPG" width="267" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After going to my third wedding this summer, I feel like a pro! There are a few things I have decided I WON'T have at my wedding.&lt;br /&gt;1. a singer whose vibrato is so fast that you can't understand a word she says!&lt;br /&gt;2. a priest who can't remember the names of the Bride and Groom!&lt;br /&gt;3. a D.J. who thinks Disco music is still popular!&lt;br /&gt;4. allow cell phones in the church.&lt;br /&gt;5. have a band that walks around singing love songs during the reception.&lt;br /&gt;6. cash bar! Drinks should be included.&lt;br /&gt;7. allow the wedding cake to be placed on an unsturdy table.&lt;br /&gt;8. most of all, I will not allow tradition to get in the way of the happiest day of my life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your wedding day should be your OWN! If you don't want your Dad to walk you down the aisle because he hasn't been in your life AT ALL, then choose someone else! When I walk down the aisle to the man of my dreams, I want the person who leads the way to be the most important male figure in my life. Since my B-Bob is not alive, I will choose that man when the day comes. I'm a little torn as to who he would be right now. I have a stepfather, uncles and a wonderful brother-in-law but I just don't know how I'll feel when the time comes to decide.&lt;br /&gt;I think my best friend had her wedding close to perfect! The reception was on the water and she selected every single song the D.J. played. Since she also loves country music, I was happy. She even sang a song to her husband which I think I would do as well. Her ceremony was done at a church that neither she nor her husband attended. They had many meetings with the priest but he still didn't know them well enough to give a personal ceremony. I think I might be getting a little picky, but oh well. I have plenty of time to plan my "perfect" wedding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112105129957661126?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112105129957661126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112105129957661126&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112105129957661126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112105129957661126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/another-wedding.html' title='Another Wedding'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112074745247861297</id><published>2005-07-07T10:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T10:52:08.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mama, I'm Alright</title><content type='html'>There is a new artist by the name of Miranda Lambert. I am in love with her voice and her lyrics. I'm sorry to do this two days in a row of lyrics, but my mother will love this one. &lt;br /&gt;I've noticed, that even though this move is going to be scary for me, it may be harder on my mother. I'm her baby! We talk or e-mail almost every day! The last few weeks, my mother has wanted to spent time with me. But with the summer band program I teach and waitressing, I just haden't had time to see her. Finally last weekend I took off and took a trip to her neck of the woods. We both needed that weekend together. We are each other's best friends and biggest fans. I just want to assure her, that I'll be alright. She raised me to be a strong woman and I can't wait to prove it to her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day at noon like a chapel bell find her Jesus keep her well&lt;br /&gt;Help her do more right than wrong at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;I got 5 good gears and a tank of gas, fifty watts and Johnny Cash&lt;br /&gt;A guitar and a broken heart just full of things to say&lt;br /&gt;You taught me how to stand those tests and trials&lt;br /&gt;But you can't see a desert sunrise in the bible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves me more that anything&lt;br /&gt;And she wants the world for me&lt;br /&gt;Her west dropped of in El Paso,&lt;br /&gt;And her north in Abilene&lt;br /&gt;Mama I'm OK out here&lt;br /&gt;I've seen how hard the world can be&lt;br /&gt;My step is sure and I know my name&lt;br /&gt;I'm strong just like you prayed I'd be&lt;br /&gt;I'm strong just like you prayed I'd be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'd have done what you and daddy done, would have never lost and never won&lt;br /&gt;Or gotten myself kicked when I was down&lt;br /&gt;I would not know how to travel well, A hundred bucks and cheap motels&lt;br /&gt;I would not know how to fight for my own heart next time around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't you cry another night about me&lt;br /&gt;In this city I've got angels all around me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves me more that anything&lt;br /&gt;And she wants the world for me&lt;br /&gt;Her west dropped of in El Paso&lt;br /&gt;And her north in Abilene&lt;br /&gt;Hey Mama I'm OK out here&lt;br /&gt;I've seen how hard the world can be&lt;br /&gt;My step is sure and I know my name&lt;br /&gt;I'm strong just like you prayed Id be&lt;br /&gt;I'm strong just like you prayed I'd be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt it every time you prayed for me&lt;br /&gt;I'm strong just like you prayed I'd be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112074745247861297?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112074745247861297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112074745247861297&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112074745247861297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112074745247861297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/mama-im-alright.html' title='Mama, I&apos;m Alright'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112067554859211984</id><published>2005-07-06T14:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T15:26:13.133-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meaningful Songs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have always paid close attention to the lyrics in popular songs. I am constantly searching for the songs that voice my feelings. I have kept a running list of some of my favorite songs. The ones that make me stop and think about my life and what I've gone through or what I dream to have. Check out these songs and add some of your favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll Never Be Lonely"&lt;br /&gt;"She's Every Woman" by Garth Brooks&lt;br /&gt;"I Get to Come Home to you" by John Michael Montgomery&lt;br /&gt;"You'll think of Me" by Keith Urban&lt;br /&gt;"Little Things" by Brooks &amp;amp; Dunn&lt;br /&gt;"I'm Moving On" by Rascal Flats ** Lots of meaning for me** &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And my new Favorite, &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;"My Sister"&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt; by Reba McEntire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey girl it's me I just called to tell you hi&lt;br /&gt;Call me when you get this&lt;br /&gt;Haven't talked lately so hard to find the time&lt;br /&gt;Give the boys a big kiss&lt;br /&gt;Tell them that I miss them&lt;br /&gt;By the way I miss you too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking just today&lt;br /&gt;About how we used to play&lt;br /&gt;Barbie dolls and make-up&lt;br /&gt;Tea parties dress up&lt;br /&gt;I remember how we'd fight&lt;br /&gt;We made up and laughed all night&lt;br /&gt;Wish we were kids again&lt;br /&gt;My sister my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah before I forget I met someone&lt;br /&gt;I think I really like him&lt;br /&gt;I was wondering if I'm jumping the gun&lt;br /&gt;By going out on a limb&lt;br /&gt;And invite him home for Christmas&lt;br /&gt;To meet the family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seem like just yesterday&lt;br /&gt;You brought home old what's his name&lt;br /&gt;He had been drinking&lt;br /&gt;What were you thinking&lt;br /&gt;After dinner he passed out&lt;br /&gt;We can laugh about it now&lt;br /&gt;We've learned a lot since then&lt;br /&gt;My sister my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you could come and see me sometime soon&lt;br /&gt;We could just hang out like we used to&lt;br /&gt;It's late and I should go&lt;br /&gt;But I can't hang up the phone&lt;br /&gt;Until I tell you&lt;br /&gt;What I don't tell you enough&lt;br /&gt;Even though at times it seemed&lt;br /&gt;We were more like enemies&lt;br /&gt;I'd do it all again&lt;br /&gt;My sister my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I heard this song, I was actually on a NO SISTER STRIKE. :o) That sounds bad, but my sisters love me so much, that every time I spoke to them I felt like we were having an intervention. They knew that my boyfriend was not right for me, but they didn't want to wait for me to see it. So I felt it was best to pull away for a while and focus on what I wanted. It seemed though, that this song was playing everytime I got in the car. It reminded me of our Barbie Kingdom that took over half our Basement. The song also brought to mind all the boyfriends we brought home for different family events. I don't recall any of them getting really drunk, but most weren't good enough to be there.&lt;br /&gt;I hope that when I move, my sisters still intervene and visit often.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I love you MommaK and AM! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112067554859211984?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112067554859211984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112067554859211984&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112067554859211984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112067554859211984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/meaningful-songs.html' title='Meaningful Songs'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112059073908784272</id><published>2005-07-05T18:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T15:12:19.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Stuff Done!</title><content type='html'>I got my rental truck all taken care of, though I don't know how I'm going to pay for it! It's really expensive to move ten hours away! Now I just need to change banks and pack! Any helpful advice you all can give me to make this as easy as possible, I'd appreciate it. Have a great day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112059073908784272?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112059073908784272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112059073908784272&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112059073908784272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112059073908784272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/getting-stuff-done.html' title='Getting Stuff Done!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112049408114506514</id><published>2005-07-04T15:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T12:23:17.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Independence Day</title><content type='html'>Today I celebrate our Nation's Independence as well as the Independence I see around me in the women I admire. Independence is a tricky word. Webster defines Independence as Politically selfgoverning; free from control of others; not relying on others. I believe there is a deeper meaning to that powerful word. Being Independent doesn't mean you can't lean on the strength of others in hard times. It doesn't mean that you can't reach out for advice in tough situations. It does, however, mean that the final step must be our own. To be Independent you are required to truely listen to your own heart and follow your own beliefs and dreams. &lt;br /&gt;I feel that after weeks of counseling, I am finally able to say that I'm on the road to being Independent. I will always value the opinions of my loved ones, but I hope to be strong enough to listen to what my own heart tells me. I want to fall down to see how quickly I can get back up. I want to get hurt, to learn compassion. I want to work hard to value the feeling of success. So happy Independence Day to our Nation and to the women in my life who know what it's like to be Independent. I love You!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112049408114506514?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112049408114506514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112049408114506514&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112049408114506514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112049408114506514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/independence-day.html' title='Independence Day'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14155868.post-112040155652873407</id><published>2005-07-03T10:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T11:06:24.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Count Down Begins!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/1600/cowboyhat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4748/1272/320/cowboyhat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 27 days left in Maryland! It's interesting that for years I have talked about moving to Nashville but have had many reasons to WAIT another year. :o) Right after college I didn't have the money nor the courage to pack up and leave. I landed a good teaching job for a company that required me to sign a two year contract. So I had to WAIT at least two more years to move to my dream state. At that time I didn't know what I was going to do once I got to Tennessee, which is most likely the reason I was so scared to go!&lt;br /&gt;At the end of my first year teaching I told my boyfriend I was leaving after my second year with or without him. After telling him my plans, he became that voice that wouldn't let me find another reason to put it off. Early into my second year, my boss came to me and asked me to sign a contract for a third year. He was offering me a nice raise and a promise to decrease my work load from seven schools down to five. I told him I was unable to sign the contract at that time because it was just too far away and I wasn't comfortable making a legal commitment. I assured him that I would let him know in the winter as to whether or not I would sign the contract.&lt;br /&gt;Oh the winter sure did come quickly! I loved my students and I was finally gaining respect in their schools. When it came down to telling my boss, I was torn. I hadn't made ANY plans for Nashville and had no Idea how I would leave my students. I was ready to WAIT another year. My sister and her family had finally moved back home, I had a good job, great friends, reliable contacts, and FINANCIAL SECURITY. But of course, it's not all about money! After many fights with my boyfriend, he finally convinced me that I had to go now or I would always find a reason to stay in Maryland. So I told my boss that this would be my last year with the company. He was disappointed and tried to find a way for me to stay.&lt;br /&gt;Then the planning had to start. There was something stopping me though. I still didn't make any plans! My boyfriend had decided to make the step with me. That was the problem! I didn't realize it at the time, but that was why I hadn't made plans, because I didn't want to make them with HIM. After many counseling sessions with a wonderful professional, I finally clearly broke the news to him that I loved him, but didn't love him enough to marry him. It would then be unfair for him to move with me. That didn't go over well (that's a whole other story though).&lt;br /&gt;But then I was FREE! I was free to finally start working to make ME happy. I make MY plans not OUR plans. It was a scary but nice feeling. I wasn't ready to plan two people's future. That is when I decided to go back to school for Music Industry with a minor in Public Relations.&lt;br /&gt;After months of researching schools, I found Middle Tennessee State University. They have one of the best Music Industry Programs in the nation! What excited me the most about this school was that 600 companies around the world give internship the RIN (recording industry) students in the senior year. JOB PLACEMENT!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, a month away from finally going to Tennessee. Please follow me and give me any advice and support you can offer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14155868-112040155652873407?l=nashvillebound.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/feeds/112040155652873407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14155868&amp;postID=112040155652873407&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112040155652873407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14155868/posts/default/112040155652873407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nashvillebound.blogspot.com/2005/07/count-down-begins.html' title='The Count Down Begins!'/><author><name>CowgirlUP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07062611054444953036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CwTLVVnp198/TRNsMLv4SeI/AAAAAAAAADU/GnGj668Va5Y/S220/Photo%2B13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
