Secret Santa and the Holiday Shit Show

Starring the belligerent asshole who ruins the whole thing for everyone.

Everyone was getting ready to leave and I put on my coat, but was stopped on my way down to the door. A couple of the guys said that one of them was being somewhat ornery. Then I saw a hand trying to get the door back open and thought it was a joke. It was not. Let's call that particular gentleman Wedge...one of the simplest tools known to man. Soldier tossed up my boots; nobody thought the episode would last long. 

I don't remember exactly how long it took or if there was much of an issue, but myself and another girl walked out at the same time. Soldier got me settled into the car and went to help a couple of other guys help get Wedge into his car. I sat there for a few minutes and watched while Wedge tried to fight these three guys. Then I got irritated. I got out and kind of got in the middle, knowing he wasn't going to do anything to me. Needless to say, Soldier wasn't thrilled. 
Wedge just kept trying to get people to fight or hit him, and of course the guys fed into that. At one point one of the guys pushed him on the ground; there was a gross, dull thud and there was some blood from a cut on his forehead. I wouldn't at all be surprised if he got a concussion. 

Here's the "best" part of the story: Wedge and his wife had brought their two kids to the party. (Please notice that I made a conscious decision to put those quotation marks there. I fully understand the correct use of them, and their intent is to be sarcastic. Just in case anyone doesn't know how to use quotation marks properly. ...I feel strongly about it.)
So the kids are sitting in the van with all this going on. The baby was sleeping, but the other kid was awake and definitely old enough to know what was going on. Wedge's wife thought she could calm him down and asked if myself and the other girl would get the kids home. Neither of us had our phones (GPS), so we were following another car that would contain Wedge and his wife. According to the plan. 
By this time, I had completely lost track of (and interest in) Wedge's whereabouts. As we followed the other car, we came upon Wedge and the guys a block or so away...apparently he had tried to run away, though I'm not sure what he planned to do. After a struggle, they got him into the car and our two guys set about following us to the house. We tried to stay calm and reassuring for the kids, but I was pretty pissed about the whole situation. 

As we were driving along, we came to a red light and the car in front of us was shaking...which would have been funny in a different situation. They turned before the light turned green, and the other girl and I assumed something bad was happening. But we all made it to the house and we took the kids to bed while the guys wrestled with Wedge. Finally they got him inside and pinned on the couch. I stayed in his face and just talked to him, while the guys still tried to push it.
In my opinion, one of the biggest issues in situations like this is that people freak out. It makes everyone very tense, adrenaline stays high, and they get the reaction they want. When I was working with individuals who had developmental disabilities, our training was to stay calm when our clients were having behaviors. (Still have no idea why they called it that. Usually behaving means good, but that meant bad, sometimes very bad.) 

As one of the guys was leaving, he punched Wedge in the balls. And after an initial flinch, he started laughing. That part was a little unnerving. That's obviously someone who's not in their right mind, but I firmly believe alcohol doesn't fundamentally change a person...it's not a hallucinogenic or anything. Wedge's wife finally took over and pinned him, and the guys put zip ties on his hands and ankles so he'd stop. How fucked up is that? 
That was when he took it one step too far: he started telling his wife how fat she was. I wanted to bash him in the face for that. I sufficed with just covering his mouth; he started trying to lick and bite me. That irritated Soldier but I had on leather mittens and a wool coat so I didn't care, and I think it made him angrier that it wasn't bothering me. Really I had to keep myself from laughing about it. 

Around that time the wife said she could handle it and the guys decided it wasn't a threat anymore. The guys walked out without a word but I got a parting gift from Wedge: "Fuck you Laura." I reciprocated, then told him I hate him to the core of my soul, and that his wife is better than him. One last parting shot. 

The next day I texted her to see how things were going, and she was very apologetic. One part that sticks out in my mind is her kind of giggling and asking what she should get out of the situation once he was sobered up. I was marginally disgusted, I think it was in my tone when I told her she shouldn't try to get anything; she should walk away. One a basic level, I don't understand abusive relationships. I don't believe he's like that generally, and she did say she'd only seen him like that once before...but let me tell you a story about the one time I questioned my safety from a guy: I had the slight feeling I may get injured, and I got out of the situation. And that's the end of the tale, because in my book of fairy tales you don't get another chance to make me feel that way. She may not have the highest self-esteem, but she should at least think of the kids with something like that. 

I really have to start blogging this stuff when it happens, I'm getting angry again in rethinking it. But there's your dose of insanity for the Christmas season...Happy Holidays!

Secret Santa

Santa stays secret when you're the one who brought the shitty present

Raise your hand if you've missed the crazy stories. This one's (well, two, I think) for you!

For the past few years, one of Soldier's coworkers has held a Secret Santa Christmas party, and this year's was held last night. There's always a bit of anxiety with getting a Secret Santa present unless everyone knows each other really well. Soldier has only been working with this group for a couple of months, and there were still some of them I hadn't met, so we were both a little nervous.

We drew two names, one guy and one girl. Soldier had an idea for the guy, but he was leaving the other for me. I was a bit irritated; I'd only met her once. I went through all the girly stuff at the store and put together a nice spa bag for the $50 limit. And with that kind of limit, you kind of assume that everyone should get pretty nice, thoughtful gifts. I'm sure you can see where this is going.

We got there and had some food and drinks...which reminds me...there were these buffalo chicken stuffed muffins that I need to get the recipe for. They were scrumptious. So much yumminess in my mouth.
Everyone was chatting and having a good time, I think we'd all been there for a couple of hours by the time we opened presents. Someone awful decided we all had to go one by one. Oh yay. I was toward the end of the group, dreading my turn because everyone would be staring at me. There were some really cool gifts, some funny ones, and a couple that were a bit more inappropriate. My turn came and Soldier had to help me get the ribbons off...they were tied really tightly and I was already nervous from people looking at me.

I got the wrappings off to reveal...a bottle of Riesling. I don't mean to sound ungrateful (too late, I do now!), but it's about a $10 bottle. I know that somebody had asked Soldier for tips or ideas for me, and he'd said that I'm girly. Not a lot to go on, but really? A bottle of cheap white wine was the best possible option? Not gonna lie, I was kinda disappointed. Well, I can't be a frigid bitch so I tried to act like it was cool. Suh not kewl.

***

Back to eating and drinking. At one point, the Hostess decided that we were new bffs and we needed to chat. Well okay, everybody likes to be liked. So we went to her room and sat on her gloriously comfy bed. But then she started talking about her love triangle...or square. I already knew part of the story, but I really don't want to be in the midst of all the details.
Here's the short version: there was a guy (duh) she was with...I'm not sure if it was actual romantic or just sex.
Honestly, when I met this guy I deemed him a Frat Boy. Soldier told me I was wrong, but he totally is. He's good looking and is constantly working out, has a constantly pouty look on his face, kind of mumbles everything he says, and is angsty. He's a Frat Boy.
So Girl B came into the picture and became the girlfriend. I'm not sure if there was a bit of dabbling with both women but whatever. Girl B was dismissed in a rather public manner, and I believe Hostess stepped back in. Someone else wanted to start dating Girl B and respectfully asked Frat Boy if he was okay with it. He was. But then he decided that he wanted her back. His plan to win her was by berating her. And she agreed so he'd stop. Because that's how healthy relationships work.

Hostess is telling me that now the Frat Boy is bothering her and she just wants it to stop. Good God it was uncomfortable. I didn't know what to say, especially because I've heard different versions of the situation.

While we were chatting, some of the guys kept coming in and telling us to get back to the party. Then one of the guys, in kind of a weird way, decided he would stand guard so we could talk. After a while Hostess started feeling ill, and everyone was getting ready to leave. The only thing left was to pack up and head home...or so I thought.

Etiquette and the Modern Wedding

Please come help us celebrate the time, money, stress, and love we've put into our marriage ceremony...that you'll still find something wrong with. 

Have I bitched about wedding planning enough? I've been putting off the invite list stuff and finally delved into it today. I have so many annoyances with it. 

I would be fine with having about 20 people at the wedding. Immediate family, close friends, done. Granted, I knew Soldier's mom would want to invite a lot of people. I was a little aghast when we finally got her list though...I think it had around 180 people on it. Well that was a big no (although a handful of them were already on our list), but I made Soldier go through it because I didn't feel it was my place to make cuts. I haven't had the energy or guts to send the updated list back out, and I don't relish that day. 

I did hear one end of a conversation Soldier had with the 'rents about how there was an "obligation" for them to invite people. I may have stared open-mouthed, aghast and possibly a little ragey. I'll be the first to admit that I'm a bit callous, but I don't feel that there's at all an obligation to invite anyone to a personal, intimate event. Plus, whose wedding is it again? In her defense, Mama-in-Law has offered to pay for it. However, to me, that means I might have to give up some control, which you all know I'm not prepared for. Seriously, it's a little concerning sometimes. 

Update: it's about 3:30 in the afternoon and I've opened a bottle of wine. At least I made it past noon?

Soldier and I made an agreement that this is a big deal, we want to focus on our life together, and we want to share it with people we know and love. For a while, I wasn't even sure I was going to invite all of my aunts and uncles. I think it might be out of the ordinary; we've never been super close with extended family. On my dad's side, there was a bit of a falling out a few years ago and he hasn't spoken with his siblings a whole lot since then. My mum's side is a bit trickier: for a long time her sisters didn't want much to do with her. (There's a whole family history there, don't think my mom's anything less than amazing.) A while back they all started to catch back up and make up for lost time, so she asked me to invite them, if only to make the gesture. I'm not sure I've ever met my aunts, but I'm good with sending the invitation, and I'd be happy to have them there to begin a relationship. And that's about it. The number on my parent's list was around 10 or 12. That I can live with. 

Now I'm getting around to collecting addresses and figuring out the correct way to write them on the envelopes and everything and you know what? Why? Who cares? I'm over here stressing out over the Mr/Mrs/Ms, the Dr, the correct way to add significant others and children, aaand cue the auto-immune that heartless bitch. 
And, unfortunately, I'll continue to stress, because I'm sure I'll get shit from somebody. 

On a happier note, all is right in the world because Soldier made me a freaking giraffe onesie. This is why you marry someone. 

Thankful

Celebrating life's blessings with gloriously excessive amounts of food and drink!

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and has been for as long as I can remember. This year, I'm sad to be away from my family, but I'm also excited to be celebrating Friendsgiving with a great group of people here. I tend to complain on here, so it's time to count my blessings. 

Why I'm thankful for my husband, and also why he drives me nuts
He's smart. Really smart. Like sometimes I don't even understand when he's explaining something mechanical to me. It kinda makes me feel dumb, but also proud.
He's silly most of the time, which balances out my generally serious nature.
He's a better homemaker than me, except for cleaning. But the dude can sew. 
He grabs my butt, a lot. Admittedly, it's obnoxious, but at least I know he likes me.
He thinks I'm beautiful no matter what. That means when I don't feel well, first thing in the morning, or when I'm wearing my now customary uniform of sweatpants/no makeup/unstyled hair. 
He's easygoing. This is especially nice when he comes home and I'm embarrassed that I've been lazy and haven't cleaned or done much all day. He doesn't mind.
He's caring and enjoys taking care of me. This includes making me eat and rest when my body is being dumb, massaging my angry calves, and handling the responsibilities I don't like.
He's damn good looking. 
He has to practically be a saint. Sometimes I'm seriously at a loss as to how he puts up with me. 
He's very forgiving. I may or may not sometimes become just the tiniest bit irrational when I've had a bit too much to drink, and he always listens and always wants to do what he can to make me happy. What a weirdo. 
He's a great amount of weird. Just the amount where I roll my eyes at him, but I secretly like it because he's fun and I'm glad he's not boring. 
He's mine. It took a while, but he decided I was the one he wanted to spend his life with and he didn't waste any time in making that happen. 

Why I'm thankful for my crazy ass life
It does not lack adventure. 
I've lived in some weird places, and I think that's neat.
I have awesome friends all over the world. 
Mountains, lakes, ocean, meadows.
Freaking fantastic friends and family. Ugh, that was one word away from perfect alliteration. For realsies though, I can't even express how jealous of you should be of all my lovelies. 
I've never actually had to wonder where I was going to sleep or when my next meal would be. 
Somehow, things always seem to work out. 

Alright, so I can't think of as many specific examples. And I know I bitch a lot, but I am a very lucky lady. I know that there are many places in the world, and even in my own country, where I would need to be concerned each day...about getting shot, raped, killed, etc. Oy, that took a really dark turn. 
Let me try that again. My life isn't perfect, but it's pretty damn good. I have a roof over my head, food in my cupboards, and a good man who loves me. While it doesn't make for super entertaining blog posts, I'm trying to remember that stuff more often. Mostly for the sanity of my husband and the sake of my marriage. And I'm sure there's a quote, that I'm much too lazy to look up right now, about how the bittersweet makes the sweet sweeter. So, a day late, I'll leave you with that thought--there's (almost) always a silver lining. 

Yesterday, we had a lovely Friendsgiving. Unfortunately, I drank a bottle of wine. Yup, myself. It seemed like a good idea at the time...well, maybe I knew that it wasn't but I have this stupid trait where I have an idea in my head of how things should go and then they don't and I get irrationally pouty. Anyway we came home and I insisted upon sleeping on our love seat (which, in retrospect, only punished me). But these things reminded me that I really need to make an effort too. I'll admit it, sometimes I'm the Richard Cranium. Possibly slightly more than sometimes. Anywaysies, that's another thing I'm thankful for. I can act like a little bit of an ass and realize that I was a jerk, but also be forgiven. I'm a happy, albeit hungover and just a tiny bit miserable, girl. 

Side note-yes, I am aware of Black Friday insanity (and irony of it being the day after Thanksgiving) and, no, I did not participate. That shit cray. Ugh, hate Kanye West. He's such a twat. 
Okay, back to good things.  

Appreciate stuff. And treat yo'self. Mic drop.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité

Je suis Paris

A terrible thing happened in France. We all know that. Terrible things have happened in Lebanon, Syria, Kenya, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, and pretty much every other country in the world. We all know that too. 
Facebook has erupted in the last few days with articles, thoughts & prayers, and a profile picture overlay in support of France. A good number of people are upset about this because they feel it belittles all of the other places and the problems going on there. I disagree with this. Of course part of the reason Paris is getting so much attention is the media coverage--but media coverage can be blamed for a lot of things. However, I think there's another, possibly bigger, reason for it: people have more of a connection to Paris. 

Before you call me an ignorant American, hear me out. Think about how many people you know who have visited Paris. Now think about how many people you know who've visited Lebanon, Syria, Kenya, Iran, Iraq, or Afghanistan. I would be willing to bet those are vastly different numbers. 
I, for one, have visited Paris...which you already know since I write about it a *little* obsessively. I walked on those streets, ate the food, and (attempted) to be part of that culture for a while. These are tangible things for my brain to comprehend. I took a part of Paris with me, and left a part of my heart there. So when that city gets hurt, it hurts my heart. Ew, that's kind of a sickening romanticization. Apparently that's not a word, but I'm leaving it. 

I haven't ever been to Lebanon, Syria, Kenya, Iran, Iraq, or Afghanistan. I haven't smelled the air, tasted the food, or walked on the streets; I don't really have anything concrete to attach to those places. And if you compare media coverage of the different locations, Paris is mostly good and the others are mostly bad. For not having any real experience there, it's hard to counteract those stories. (Just for the record, I don't at all think these are completely bad places filled with solely bad people. This is just one part of my argument.)

Here's the other part of my argument: showing support for Paris doesn't mean people don't support those in other countries. There's a general saying that, when something bad happens to someone, they should remember there are people who have it worse. In the reverse of that, when something good happens, we don't tell them to remember there are people who have it better. There are always people who have it better, and always people who have it worse...that doesn't mean we aren't allowed to feel happy or sad. 

I, for one, hate all of it. I can't fathom opening fire and killing a bunch of random strangers, and it makes me sick to try and make sense of it. I have that feeling no matter where it takes place, but it's worse when it's a place I've gotten to know and love. 
I don't have any say in the layover options Facebook has. Is it fair who/where/when that attention is given? Probably not. Does that mean I should be stingy about it to make a point? I don't think so. When we were given the rainbow option in support of the US Supreme Court decision for gay marriage, of course I took part. Not because that decision directly affected me, but because I wanted my gay and lesbian friends to know that I support and am happy that they're now allowed those rights. 

I do support all the innocent people that are being affected by all the violence in the world. My heart goes out to them. But, given the opportunity, did I put the French flag over my picture to show my solidarity? Oui. Parce que, je suis Paris. 

The Bride Wore Wool

Mawwiage...is what bwings us...togeva...today.**

Sometimes, at the very last minute, when you least expect it, everything falls into place. 
I think I gave you the skinny on our wedding plan. 
(If you need a recap: Soldier and I had to get married legally so I could get on his insurance. Originally we were just gonna do the courthouse thing, but then decided to take advantage of the scenery and some wonderfully helpful friends.)

The day started off surprisingly well considering our parties the previous night. I got up and started to get ready, then eventually started prodding Soldier to get up and run some last minute errands. 
There were still a couple of unknowns on the day of: the location and the rings. Yeah, I know those are kind of important pieces. And of course you know we had a location picked out; it depended on the weather and our photographer friend. There was a backup option if it was too rainy for his equipment. It was cloudy, but not predicted to rain until later. 

Then there were the rings. We'd looked at some shortly after I got up here to look at the options; Soldier didn't know what he wanted. There again we found prices jacked up at the magical word of Wedding. So we found some on Amazon and clicked away on a couple of simple, nice tungsten rings. We were being kind of cheap, I know. 
Things take a bit longer to get here and I'm impatient but I was pretty good about not checking the tracking every day until I was pretty positive they should have arrived. Well, they supposedly had arrived like 3 days previously. It was about a week and a half before the wedding and I freaked out a bit. Soldier (because he's basically a saint) humored me with going to a local jewelry store because I didn't want to pay expedited shipping. The cheapest, sterling silver ring for him was just under $200, which made the shipping cost look much better. On the plus side, it did give us the chance to double check his size and the thickness of the rings we wanted.
So, back to Amazon. Rings ordered, quick shipping, we should have still been alright. A couple of days later, it was inexplicably cancelled. We still don't know why. The Saint reordered while I panicked again, tried to come up with an alternate plan, and assumed everything was going to be a disaster. I was still trying to figure out what to do while I was putting on my makeup on the big day. My best idea was to use some thin ribbon. 

I was getting ready and there was a knock at the door, which totally threw me off, but I thought maybe my family had sent something. It was a shipping envelope, and I automatically knew it contained the rings. I was so happy over these stupid metal circles; they made it feel real. Kinda weird, but whatever. 

The weather did hold up enough, but it wasn't any heat wave. I did wear a white dress, though it was about knee length, so I added wool socks and Burberry rain boots. To keep it classy. 5 friends joined us, one of them officiating and another taking pictures. It was roughly a mile walk out; we said our vows, exchanged rings, kissed, and were married. It was so fast, but I'm glad we went out unconventional route instead of visiting the courthouse. 

When we got home, there were flowers at the door; my siblings had ordered a bouquet for me. It didn't make it in time, but it was a perfect centerpiece for our little dinner party/reception. Plus it was super sentimental and adorable of them and it meant a lot. 

So that's it, I'm officially a married woman. But I'm still working on getting "Real Housewives of Alaska" up and running. 

**If you don't understand that quote, you should feel bad about yourself. And then go watch The Princess Bride. 

Stag & Hen

Last fling before the ring

The other day I got a text from one of my friends here: the boys decided to have an impromptu bachelor party and what were the girls doing? I kind of cringed. I had wanted Soldier to help me with cleaning and getting ready for our little wedding and party. On the other hand, the girls were really sweet in planning a night out to celebrate. So, I took off my crabby pants and put a smile on my face.

As I was getting ready, we went through the options of whether or not to coordinate. Of course, I was instructed to wear white, and they would wear black. That might be an American thing. One of the girls said it’s a sorority thing, but I’ve been to plenty of bachelorette parties where that’s standard. Anyway, I have maybe half of my wardrobe here so it was tricky. I ended up going kind of high fashion: a high-waist, mid-calf pencil skirt with a t-shirt that says “jaune et belle,” and some nude booties. I felt kind of ridiculous at first, but then I got pretty excited; it’s been a while since I’ve gotten all dressed up and sassy. I do enjoy getting dressed up and sassy. And I figured, so what? Who cares if people think I'm overdressed or don't understand my outfit? 

They picked me up and took me to a cute farm to table restaurant. We got a bottle of champagne, which I’m also a pretty big fan of. We had appetizers, dinner, champagne, and some good chats. Then we moved on to the bar. We only had one shot of Patron and kept the drinks flowing.

I was pretty proud of myself that I didn’t call or text Soldier at all. I knew he’d be having a good time, but I was a little concerned at how much he would drink. Then, at a relatively reasonable hour, he called me. He was slurring his words, but he was already home. He wanted to make sure I was alright, that I was going to get home okay, and was wondering when I’d be getting in. I was so touched and pleased that he called, and that he wasn’t blacked out or drinking till the next morning. He doesn't remember calling. In a weird way, I think that's almost sweeter--not having all his faculties, it was still on his mind to make sure I was taken care of.

This, friends, is a good man. I suppose he was worth the wait. Fine. He was absolutely, definitely worth the wait. 

I think I was home around midnight or 12:30 which, for a bachelorette party, wasn't horrible. Except that when I'm drunk, I take forever to do anything, especially get ready to go to bed. Soldier was already there, sleeping, quite drunk. Apparently they had an overwhelming amount of shots, and his friends were sufficiently in awe of his ability to shoot whiskey. 

I was still relatively drunk when I got in bed, and I kind of just laid there for a while. I was kind of feeling small. Even though we've been living in sin (gasp! egad!) and sharing our lives for the past month, I also knew, or maybe was trying to get through my brain, the gravity of our decision. 

I was excited, but not exactly excited. I was thinking a lot of everything that would need to be done the next day. I was more concerned about making sure the dinner and little party went well for our friends than focusing on us. 

It ended up being a really nice night out, and I was so grateful that the girls had wanted to make sure I had my party; my kind of party. There were no penis straws, dare-type games, or Team Bride shirts. My party was comprised of kind people, laughs, and the complete certainty of their attention to my enjoyment. Easy, casual, and perfect. 

Trophy Wifedom

Where's my chauffeur? 

Fine, we're not technically married yet. But close. Besides, what else am I going to call my position? Trophy fiance? Trophy live in girlfriend? Trophy domestic partner? 

This is terrible. It hasn't even been a month and it's already getting to me. I've said for years that I wanted to be a trophy wife, but I always envisioned a city. or somewhere south. I wanted to go south! But as it is, I'm stuck in Alaska with no job, no car, and nothing to do. The one time I went hiking solo I was told by multiple people that I shouldn't go alone because bears. Fucking BEARS. This is my life now. 
Don't get me wrong, I'm truly in awe of this place; it's beyond imagination gorgeous. From my living room window. Luckily they're large windows, with a spectacular view of the mountains and ocean. But it's depressing. 

Back home, I was at least somewhat important. I loved my job, and the people I worked with, even if it wasn't perfect. I sang at church, and people hired me to sing at their weddings and funerals. They honored me with being part of some of the most wonderful, and trying, times of their lives. It was humbling, and I really tried not to take advantage of it or dismiss the gravity of what they were inviting me to. 
I'm nothing here. While Soldier is at work, I clean or try to come up with projects around the apartment. Half the time I don't even put makeup or real clothes on. (And for those of you that know me, you know that's a really big deal). I've made a few friends, but I'm basically reliant on somebody else if I want to do something, so I don't invite anyone to do anything. 
I also feel like I kind of have to justify my existence here, so I work really hard to keep the place immaculate and have dinner planned for him. We've been looking for a car for me, but it hasn't panned out and it crushes my hopes even more every time it doesn't work. 

Sitting around doing nothing makes me want to shop, which is really the opposite of what I should be doing. Granted, I know I could brave the bus system to look for and have a job. In all honesty, my snobbyness doesn't want that. I like metros. Metros mean big cities. I like big cities. How did I end up in Alaska? 

Okay. Sorry. I know exactly why I'm here, and I (obviously) would go anywhere with Soldier. I never envisioned this. Y'all know I'm a big believer in things happening for a reason. So...wtf? Why this? Why A-L-A-S-K-A? Maybe this is a lesson in humility. Or...I dunno, something else.

Fine, let me get to the crux of the matter tonight. My parents just sent up a few boxes of stuff I couldn't fit in my suitcases. One of them was filled with Christmas decorations. There's one ornament I have that's from my very first Christmas, when I was just a few weeks old in The Netherlands. I almost brought it in my carry-on when I came up here, because it's very sentimental to me. Almost immediately when I opened the box I found it crushed. And I was crushed. It was my own fault for not putting it in a box or something, but I hadn't thought of it at the time. For some reason I have a lot of emotion tied to that thing. Isn't it weird what objects we attach affection to? 
Of course all the other stuff has been building up; it didn't take long for me to not love being at home all day. I feel kind of detached from everything around me, like I still need to feel it out. And even the one time I went out by myself, it took me a lot of personal pep time to walk out the door. It's a good day when step out to check the mail or take the trash to the dumpster. 

I want to be completely clear that this is a pity party post. Actually...I like that. I might have to start using that for post titles. Anyway, I'm easily set off when there's already something gnawing away at me, and trying (failing) to bring the ornament back to life was very sad for me. 
Rest assured (if you care) that Soldier has been incredible with this. He knows I'm having kind of a rough time and keeps asking what he can do or how he can help. And he talks about the future, which I love. 

Sometimes growing up just sucks. A lot of the time. It's hard. Okay this isn't anything you all don't already know (I'm assuming. Gasp!). But I will openly admit that I don't like being pushed out of my bubble. There's a reason it's called the comfort zone. 

Soldier keeps coming out and trying to get me to come cuddle. He knows it makes me feel better. Is that tmi? Did it just get too touchy-feely? Eh, deal with it bitches. This is what I've been looking for since you and I first met. 
I've got the man, and I at least have an idea and some experience of the life I want. Now...I wish I had the ornament, and that little link to my beginning. 

Glaciers and Rainforests

One hike at a time

I've been in Alaska for about two and a half weeks. It's insane here, chickadees. Every morning I get to eat breakfast and look out to the mountains. They're fascinating with the clouds and waterfalls changing every single day. Here are a couple of examples:

Soldier keeps telling me that I'll get used to it, but I can't see that happening. And, as you can probably guess, hiking has been one of the main entertainments. 

I was adamant about hiking to the glacier, so Soldier and I went the day after I got here. It did not disappoint. 

Completely blue, smooth, chilly, and melting. The hike wasn't easy, but it was totally worth it. What I was really surprised about was the rain forest part. You really only think about them being in the southern hemisphere right? Wrong. Going through the forest there are areas completely covered with moss, lots of boggy areas, the waterfalls, and stringy moss hanging off the branches. Then there were mountains with almost no plants, and finally the snowy, icy glacier. See? Fascinating. 

My Soldier had gotten a trail map which ended up being much to large to take hiking, so he hung it on the wall. One of my new friends mentioned that she has a trail map and highlights the trails she's done so she can make sure to get as many as possible. I mentioned to Soldier that we should do this as well and push ourselves to try and hike all the marked trails while we're here. 

I haven't gone out by myself yet, but it is one of my goals to do it. I'm not afraid to say I'm not terribly sure what I'd do if I ran into a bear. Soldier and I did see one from the comfort of the car, just a glimpse. We also saw a big porcupine that (surprisingly) didn't want to be friends with me. 

I'll get there. 

My bags are packed, I'm ready to go

Leaving on a jet plane

Okay, I'm not completely packed. But close. I leave on Tuesday...I can't believe it's so close. 

It's been a bit crazy and shocking tying up all the loose ends, finishing work, saying goodbye to everyone, and knowing it was coming. But I never really seem to get it through my head that I'm going on a trip until I'm actually at the airport...and this is a little more than just a trip. 

My last day of work was this past Wednesday. I think I made it maybe a half hour into the workday before I started crying. It was quite a difficult day. I left a little earlier than the actual end of the work day, and just hugged and cried with my boss and some other work friends. I also had my last church choir rehearsal that night (alright, I'll be honest, I didn't go to rehearsal that much...but I did sing on Sundays). Maybe it was better to do it all at once? 
I got home and was super exhausted from the whole day. My brother's been back at home because he's getting away from his super scary crazy ass wife. My parents told me he'll be moving into my room because it's bigger, and I lost it. I walked upstairs to pack some clothes and just started sobbing. 

I think maybe that was when it kind of hit me that I was really going. My mom came up and hugged me and cried with me and finally I told her that I was scared. I am a little scared, but I think it did help to say it out loud. I'm basically giving everything up and putting all my faith in Soldier. I know, I've been wanting this for a very, VERY long time, and I wouldn't change any of it. But that doesn't mean it's not scary. Plus, Alaska just seems So. Far. Away. But I also never really know if I'm doing the right thing. 

What I do know is I'll be having lots of crazy new adventures, and I'll take you all along with me. My mom thinks I should change the name of the blog since I *theoretically* won't have to deal with Richard Craniums anymore...I'm not sure though, I think I might miss it. What do you all think? Let's be honest, I won't be doing that anytime soon regardless. 

Well, my little chickadees, I say goodbye in the Midwest for now. The next time you hear from me, I'll be in Alaska. Because if nothing else, I like to keep you all on your toes. Xoxo until we traverse the Last Frontier! 

Separation

Anxiety.

Soldier left for Alaska on the 1st. It feels like SO much longer.

I knew it would be difficult, so I tried to plan it out and prep myself. I took the day off work and, to not sit around and be sad, made an appointment to try on wedding dresses (squee!).
I showed up at his house and chatted with him a bit while he got ready, and I was doing very well. I kept doing very well right up until his dad got choked up. I can't stay stoic against a strong, confident, successful man breaking down. But, it was just a little tearing up, and then I was okay again. And then he was gone; he drove off and I went home. I was alright.

I got ready and headed out to try on dresses with ma mère. It was fantastic. There was nobody else there to try on dresses, and it was three stories of tulle, satin, sequins, pearls, lace, and mirrors. Glorious. I think I tried on 7 or 8 dresses. I went back to the first one I tried on; that was it. I actually found my wedding dress. Because I'm getting married, guys! Soldier called while I was trying dresses to give me an update on where he was and that everything was going well. It was really sweet. 

We stopped for lunch, then went on for some outlet shopping. By the end of the day, I was too worn out to be sad and have a pity party. Since then he's gotten to our destination and started setting the apartment up, and I've fallen into my usual habit of doing very little socially and have found the energy to miss him. A lot. 

It's been a bit crazy though: trying to purge my possessions and get some stuff packed, visiting all the doctors (my favesies), making sure I have all the necessary medical stuff to head up there. I'm doing a few paintings for a coworker's daughter, which is helping to pass the time. 
And it turns out that wedding planning really is that stressful. I don't really know how it's supposed to work, so I'm pretty much doing everything willy-nilly and probably not in the order of priority I'm supposed to. It doesn't really help that he's up there and I don't want to make a lot of decisions on our wedding without him.

And on top of all that, I had to send my ring in to get resized. I know it seems silly, but it did not take long to get used to wearing it. Now I just want that stupid little diamond back, and I really want my big dumb Soldier. 

A Proposal

Yes.

I lived with a boyfriend when I was in college. We moved in kind of quickly, and it ended up being a not-genius move. It turned out that we had very different personalities, wants, and needs, and neither one of us were willing to concede a whole lot. While we were still living together, he decided he wanted to break up. The catch was that we’d already made plans to move to a different city where we would live in one of his parent’s houses for free and I would complete my internship. So we stayed together with the understanding that we would be breaking up in the near future.

That was really hard. Even though we weren’t great together, I didn’t want to break up. And he was so good at pretending it was a normal relationship. It really messed with my head. Eventually we learned to live together as friends and I started a long distance relationship. But I promised myself that I wouldn’t do something like that again—if I was going to be living with a guy, there would be real commitment.

I don’t remember how that conversation came up with Soldier. It must have happened when we were discussing his job opportunities and how we knew there was a possibility that he’d have to move. There was never a question for me that if he asked, I’d go.

When he brought up Alaska, I tried to stay calm and not mention my involvement. After a few minutes he asked if I wanted to move to Alaska. That was it. I knew I was getting a ring, and that part wasn’t very romantic, but he still did his best to make it special.

We were going up to his family’s “cabin” a few weekends ago and I had a feeling that was going to be it. I got dolled up and put on one of my favorite summer dresses, but when I got to his house, he looked like he might be going to work on a car or something. I was immediately annoyed. He also wasn’t ready to go, and asked if I needed to eat dinner. We were already planning on stopping at a brewery, so I said I’d grab something there, but he didn’t like that idea. So I grumpily ate a salad and we headed off. We got to the brewery and it was swamped. There was a single seat open at the bar but I told him we should just go; it would be weird and uncomfortable. I was still hopeful and thought that sunset on the little lake would be perfect. But then his car wouldn’t start. We’d driven separately, which was super lucky, and when he did get it going I followed him a little ways. It was acting really funny so we stopped again twice. We tried charging the battery and jumping it and eventually just left it in a parking lot. (It was a little funny…I don’t drive a stick and at one point he got it running with me in the driver’s seat and I had this moment of sheer panic not knowing what to do and kind of weakly yelling back at him “now what!?”)

We got to the house and started to put groceries away just as the sun was setting. I told him to leave it, took his hand, and led him out to the patio; I sat with my head on his shoulder waiting for it. His phone went off and he told me that I wasn’t allowed to look at his phone or any emails he got for the next couple of days. Why? Because something might be shipping. I crumbled. I told him I thought this was going to be it and he sympathetically told me that he wouldn’t want it to be that day since I started out annoyed with him. Good thinking, I guess.

Last Wednesday, he suggested we go out for dinner, as the next few weekends would be busy and there might not be much time for it. The places he suggested are in a neighboring town that he’s not very fond of (it’s a bit snooty) so I kind of wondered if something was up. When I saw him all dressed up, I knew it was. He said he just wanted to try on his new work clothes. 

During the drive, he turned down toward a little park. I asked what he was doing and he said we had some time to kill. Then he opened up the trunk and got out. I turned around and saw him put a little black box in his pocket. When I stepped out of the car he gave me a dozen red roses, then we started walking down a pathway toward the water. 

We got to the end of the pathway and stood there for a few minutes looking out at the water. Then he dropped to one knee and pulled out the ring. I think I probably just stood there grinning like an idiot. He said "Well Laura, I love you and I want to be with you forever." And because I'm weird and get uncomfortable in situations like that, I said "Forever ever?" He told me at least until Thursday. Somewhere in there he did actually ask me to marry him, but I think I was too caught up in feeling awkward for it to really register. 

While we were walking back to the car, he pointed out that I didn't actually say yes. Silly boy. As if there was ever any doubt. 

Reactions

The claws come out

It's been interesting, to say the least, to tell people that I'm moving to Alaska. I've been especially nervous to tell my siblings and some close friends, I kind of assumed most people would tell me I was insane. 

I finally sent my siblings an email last week. Yes, an email...remember how I have that embarrassing personality trait of being kind of a pussy. Plus, there are a lot of them and it was the easiest way to get them all at once. Two of my sisters replied right away with at least a little congratulations and excitement. 

I didn't hear anything from the other two for a day, then two, then more. I started to feel a little bad about it; even if they didn't agree, moving to Alaska is kind of a big deal. 
Then my mom told me they'd been contacting her. Telling her that they're worried, they can't believe I'm considering it, couldn't we get engaged and plan a wedding before I go out there?
I know that it's a pretty big risk and they haven't been privy to all of the details, but as one sister pointed out...it may be crazy but it's my decision! I really appreciated that. (Thanks, sister. <3)

It almost bothered me more that they contacted my mom instead of me. I'm not sure any of us have followed the conventional, traditional route, so it seems a little hypocritical and unfair to judge me. Granted, I know they're concerned and just want me to be happy and healthy. 

It's a bit worse with the contrast of some people I've worked with for the last five-ish years. Work relationships are interesting; you spend the majority of your time with these people and, without necessarily meaning to, you can grow pretty close to them. 
Many of them remember when Soldier and I dated previously. Some don't, and are just excited and/or jealous of the adventure I'm embarking on. Those were the responses that made me start to feel like it was okay; that taking chance wasn't the worst thing I could do. 

Now, I could tell them that he's been unbelievably amazing, and I have. But come on, how well would you believe your sibling about that? The logical part of me completely sees the concern and question. The emotional part of me just wants them to be happy for me. He's it, he's always been it, since I first saw those hypnotizing eyes. Kind of like my life was there. 
Ugh. Sorry. I'm getting all mushy. Gross.

So, ultimately, I love my family with everything I have. But I also love Soldier with everything I have. (Ick.) It's hard to have those conflicting. The disapproval isn't stopping me from going. The only times I second-guess it is when I get those bits...I hate feeling like I've disappointed my siblings. 

Okay, okay, I think you get it. There are a lot of feels going around with all the stuff that's happening. Not funzies. Add in allergy season. Kill me in the face. 

On the plus side, moving is supposed to be one of the most difficult life decisions for a couple. So after this, we'll be invincible. 

The Great White North

For real this time

There's been a lot of craziness since we last spoke. Buckle your seat belts. 

Soldier has been amazing. Seriously, incredibly, perfectly amazing. It's been a complete 180 and we're so in love it's gross. For me, it's always been him...and he just took a little longer to get there. And now we're basically diving in head first. 

He's been going through the process to become an air traffic controller, and a couple of weeks ago they sent the list of openings. There were about 15 on the list; he ranked them and sent his choices back the next day, and was told he'd get his placement in about 2 weeks. Our city was on there, so we figured it was a done deal. 

This past Tuesday, I was at his place and he suggested we go sit on the boat; I went to get a sweater and he beat me down there. I was climbing up onto the yacht and he told me he'd gotten an email that he was being sent to Alaska. I laughed; he was joking of course. Except that he wasn't. It took about 5 minutes before I was crying.
The whirlwind hasn't stopped. It's been a blur of planning, lists, telling family and friends and coworkers, being excited, and being really sad. I'm almost convinced I'm getting ulcers. I know I'm not getting ulcers. But this shit is stressful. Moving is bad enough, but moving to Alaska?! Oy.
Add to it that he's leaving a month before I am, so I'll be faced with trying to say goodbye and get the last of my affairs in order while part of me will be missing. (Yup, I've gotten that mushy. Gross.) 

I know, I'm being kind of whiny. But honestly, I wanted to go south! However, it is my own fault. When he got the list, I was quite crestfallen to see our city on there. I assumed we'd be stuck here, and I wanted to have an adventure and start our life together without everyone else dictating everything. Well, thanks, karma. I'm getting my damn adventure. 

So get your sweaters ready, kiddos. In October we're moving to Alaska!

The Web of Cray

Spun by the spider of desperation.

I know I'm interrupting our special on Canada, but this story demands to be told. 

A few days after the breakup, my parents met up to have a drink with Tee. He was hurting, and they liked him, so whatever. It seemed to have gone alright. He's been going all middle-school-girl on Facebook with pictures and liking articles about heartbreak and such, but I usually just roll my eyes when I see it. 

I was at a bonfire last weekend when I got a random email from Tee. (Seriously. Wtf is the email obsession?) He told me that he did some sleuthing and saw that Ginny is friends with Soldier (uh, nice job Sherlock.), and that he can put 2 and 2 together. He proceeded to tell me that Soldier doesn't care about me and just wants a booty call; that he's hurt me before and will hurt me again. He told me multiple times that I need to grow the fuck up; he told me I had it made, that I left something real for something fake, and that I had my fairy tale life and my prince. I'm not sure whose fairy tale he was writing me into, because that certainly wasn't my perfect story. He wasn't expecting a response; he simply wanted me to think about the things he said because he cares about me. 
I'm a little torn on how I was supposed to feel about all that, it was kind of all over the place. He was trying to tell me that he cared, but getting kind of harsh with talking about the booty call and kind of attacking my character and intelligence. I was annoyed, but figured it would be best to just ignore it instead of starting another futile argument. 

Just a few days later, I received another. The first line was how he hadn't expected a response, but the lack of response proves his point. Let's dissect that one piece at a time. 
Point A: In the previous email he wasn't expecting a response. In the latter he pointed out he hadn't expected one. He didn't get one. What's the problem? Generally people are pleased when their expectations are met. That sounds like a personal problem. 
Point B: His point was proven by the lack of response that hadn't been expected. What point? I hypothesize that his scientific experiment is flawed. Or he just doesn't like the result. Toooo baaaad. 

But I guess that's okay...because he thought I was better than that, so I guess I'm just disappointing. But he's trying to knock some sense into me, which is very generous of him. Because I apparently I think I have all the answers, but he must be the one who actually does. The good thing is that he still cares and he'll be there if I need anything, but I broke a trust that can't be repaired and we can never have what we had before. 
I kind of wanted to reply and ask what trust I broke--the trust of not telling him I was feeling suffocated? About leaving out that I'd been trying to force myself to care for him? How the thought of spending my life with him utterly exhausted me? He said that I'm hiding and not talking to him, but I don't think he'd believe me even if I did tell him. 

Next he told me he knows there will be a time when Soldier kicks me to the curb. See? He has the answers. Keep in mind, though, that he's only saying all of this as a concerned friend. Furthermore, I can't keep living a life like this if I ever want to be happy, and he's worried for me. Somewhere in there I must have started shooting up heroine or turning tricks. How very irresponsible of me!
Luckily I was out having a drink with some coworkers so we were able to laugh it off and they advised me to again just leave it alone. 

I half expected another message this past weekend. He went farther. 

To set the stage, you need to know that there are a few different parks and hiking trails in the area. Tee was in town and his parents live close to a very large hiking area. There's a smaller hiking area near my house, which is on the complete other side of town. But this was the one he chose to go hiking at. I found this out when my mom said Tee texted her to ask if he could stop at the house to get some water. I was weirded out, but didn't want to be a jerk so I told my mom I was okay with it and that I'd just stay out of sight. Then we got to talking, and she said that she thought he was getting a bit better because he hadn't been texting her as much. 

Umm. WHAT?

Turns out he's been texting her up to a couple of times a day, telling her how he's feeling. 

Seriously. WHAT?

I understand being hurt after a breakup, but that's just freaking weird. So I just sat and seethed, waiting to leave for the day while he invaded my space. 

But I do believe there's hope, I don't think I'm completely entrapped in the web of cray. I guess he didn't realize as he was spinning that web that he was going up against a bigger, deadlier spider.

Beginning

Of the end.

I finally did it. I made a difficult, mature decision to release Tee back into the sea to find his perfect fish. Here's how it all went down...


Tee sent me an email that he was concerned with my answers about the bonfire. I read the email a few times and knew that I had some options on how to respond...I took the bitch option. I figured this was opening the door for things to end and that would make it easier. I said that he obviously didn't trust me as much as he thought; that I'd told him about the bonfire beforehand and that I'd given him the information he asked about. Then I'll admit I got a little harsh...I said that it was starting to kind of sound like an interrogation and I didn't appreciate it. 
He then went into how he wasn't trying to interrogate me...he said so many times that he trusted me and if I say it was nothing, then it was nothing. At one point he mentioned that he understood I'd been a little distant, but it was no big deal and we'd get through it. Well, this was it. 

I told him that I'd been feeling distant for quite a while and that he was just starting to notice because I was starting to take it out on him. It was hard to tell him some of this stuff, but it was true and I needed to say it. I told him that I was looking at an upcoming trip as a last-ditch-effort, but that it didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. 
I felt bad for him after that, it seemed very panicky. He kept telling me how he knew I cared, no matter what I said. It all felt quite "the lady doth protest too much, methinks." He ended it saying that we needed to just enjoy each other and forget about this. So I tried to back up a little bit and explain that I had been feeling distant and that I didn't like how I was treating him and the person I was becoming. After a little more back and forth, I finally said I didn't think things could keep going. 
Tee made one more attempt. He said that he wanted to make sure that this was what I wanted and that he'd give me some time to think about it. Well, I obviously knew that I wasn't going to change my mind and didn't take the time he offered. I let him know that it was what I wanted and needed. 

I felt like a horrible person. I've been in that position and I know how much it sucks. Then he made it worse...he wrote back that he understood and would respect my decision. He reiterated how much he cared about me and just wanted me to be happy. Part of me wanted to tell him that he'd treated me incredibly well, and he would some how see that it was for the best, that he deserves to be with someone who appreciates him and enjoys the same things. I didn't though, I know it would be pointless and just drag it out. 

My parents saw him today. My mom told me that they really liked him, and they'd known him before we started dating, so they were going to keep seeing him. I'm okay with that. He really is a nice guy, he's just not the nice guy for me. She also told me that he's doing alright...much better than I ever did with breakups, but that doesn't take much. As for me, I'm pretty relieved. My unhappiness was weighing on me and making me feel awful, and I really did hate the person I was becoming towards him. But it's all open water now, little fish, so just keep swimming. 

Gossip Girl

You know you love me...Xoxo

I didn't watch Gossip Girl when it was on the air, but I've started binge watching it lately. I think my life has taken a page out of that book. But not one of the good pages that includes a bottomless bank account, buying couture as if it were candy, and jet-setting off on a whim. Unfortunately. 

Hang onto your hats, kids, this one's a doozy.

Last week I got a bonfire invite on the Facebook from Soldier. There has been some back and forth (some, I shamefully admit, inappropriate) and there was kind of an abrupt end. So I asked if it was a mistake to invite me, and he told me that he guessed it wasn't (guessed? ouch.); that he had gone with FB's suggestions. Which maybe means he's stalking my page a lot? Eh, dunno. Anyway I said I'd go if our friend Ginny went, then I asked her to let me know. 
Well, yesterday was the day, and I was doing fine. Out of nowhere, my legs started acting up, and I started to get feverish and ick. So I was just going to ignore it when Ginny texted me; I figured nobody would really care if I just didn't go. But a bit later Soldier texted and told me that there were a bunch of girls to socialize with and he kind of tried to talk me into it so, eventually, I went. I only expected to be there for a bit. 

It was really good to see everyone though! And at one point, I don't even remember how it happened, Soldier and I wandered off and sat on the couch talking. So much stuff came out...things we'd never really talked about before. I told him things I wasn't really proud of, about not so much getting over him, and he told me how much he knew that he messed up and wish he could change it all. It was strange, because he doesn't ever say he's wrong. I cried a couple of times, and he actually opened up a bit, which is also strange. He does feelings even less than I do. It was so nice to just talk, and to get all this stuff out, and I didn't want to leave. But, I promise, I was a good girl. Well, other than completely spilling my heart out. I did end up leaving at 5...I don't even know if that's late or early. I think the sun was actually starting to come up. 
There was a crazy mix of emotions that hasn't really stopped. 

I had plans to meet Tee for lunch, and I followed through, sleep-deprived and hungover as I was. I told him that I went to the bonfire, but kept out some of those intimate details. He seemed surprised and displeased, even though I'd told him I was invited to this party. He asked some questions that sounded suspicious, and my answers were a bit vague so that probably didn't help. 
I think he can tell I've been cooling; he seems to be trying extra hard. I can see my past relationships in it, but with reversed roles. I used to be the one thinking I could do something to make the other person happy, knowing deep down I really couldn't. But I hope you don't think this is all because of Soldier. I guess if you follow the blog you know it isn't; I've been trying for probably 6 months to make myself feel something. 

I was sitting at home after hanging out with Tee, when Soldier invited me over for some drinks. I first declined, not entirely sure I could stay honest. But I really wanted to see him and talk more, so I relented. Please don't think too badly of me and my weak constitution. 
There were some other people over and we all just hung out. I kept looking at Soldier's eyes...they mesmerize me. But, again, I promise nothing happened. When I went to leave, he asked if I wanted to stay and just talk. I really wanted to, but I didn't. 

It feels a bit epic. I asked a lot of questions, and he said things just felt different. When I asked how, he said he feels more in his heart for me. He's never said anything even remotely close to that sweet or open before. He's also stressing caution and thorough thought...he's likely getting a government job but has no idea where he'll be sent. I told him that the sad thing was if he asked, I would go. He again stressed prudence and, when I asked for elaboration, he said it was because he could see himself asking. That's some fucking romantic shit. Damn it. 

This also feels slightly like Pocahontas. Why can't my life be like a good movie, like The Prince and Me or something? It worked for Kate Middleton. 

The Phantom of the Wedding is there

inside your mind

Meredith and Darryl's wedding finally happened this weekend. I put in a whooole lotta work for it, but it was completely worth it. I made some new friends and got to see Dwight, which I was a little worried about. I hadn't seen him since we tried being friends and he developed feelings. Twice. Anyway, let me escort you back in time for the wedding weekend. 

The weekend started on Friday with breakfast for the girls. Nope, actually, it started at her parent's house before breakfast. I wanted to go over my duties one last time to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything. While I was there, she got a call from the salon where we were all going to get manicures. Someone was sick and they tried to get her to reschedule. Many brides would freak out about this, and Meredith is extra emotional in general...but she handled it like a pro. She explained that she could not reschedule, that there was a group coming, and that it had been set up far in advance. Whoever she talked to didn't seem to understand it, which seemed odd, as I can't imagine it's an uncommon thing. Somehow they figured it out and got their shit together. So cheers to that.
Breakfast included myself, Meredith, her mom, the maid of honor, the flower girl, the junior bridesmaid, and the mom of the last two. The flower girl was an absolute doll, so she'll forthwith be known as Doll. 
From breakfast we went to the salon where they figured out how to get us all in. We had to wait a bit so I played some games with Doll on my Nook. When it was my turn, I asked Doll if I could use the same color as her, and that was it. We became best friends. 

Official duties started at the rehearsal that night. I was nervous to get everything right, and because there were a bunch of people I wasn't entirely familiar with. Dwight didn't even look at me for the majority of the time, and I was even more uncomfortable...more so when I was standing all alone like a loser. Although, as we were all getting ready to leave the church, I did notice him kind of laughing at Doll and I. So I thought it might be okay to try and talk to him at the rehearsal dinner, and I asked if he remembered Maximus. 

Maximus was a tiny turtle we'd found when we were out walking years ago. I told him I'd gone through all my Facebook pictures to find him the other day, and he promptly pulled up the same picture on his phone. He sat next to me through dinner and the whole group was a riot. 
Some of us went to the groom's parent's house afterwards to have a drink. I remembered why I'd liked hanging out with Dwight; I found myself not really wanting to leave. Don't worry, I was good. 

Of course it was an early start on Saturday; I had to get ready before everyone else even came close. First up was doing Meredith's makeup. She doesn't normally wear any, and I have a flair for the dramatic; it was a bit of a challenge. But she ended up looking beautiful, and the makeup held up to the end of the night. 
Off I went to set up the reception hall. The flowers were waiting and the rest of the centerpieces arrived the same time as me. Everything got set up beautifully and the men came to set up the stage just as we were finishing up. Perfect timing. 

With everything running so smoothly, I made it early to help Meredith get dressed. Luckily, that gave us plenty of time for a toast. Of course I brought mini bottles of liquor, because I have my priorities straight. (And Dwight got first dibs on the guy's choices as reward for getting Darryl to the right place at the right time. I'm not heartless. Just close.) 
We got her all ready and then it was my turn. And, man. I looked gooood. I'd found inspiration on Pinterest, and had a 20s theme. I had a blush colored silk-ish chemise and my wonderful Mama made a beautiful fitted silver skirt. An updo, dark lipstick, and a triple set of long strand pearls with a brooch accent completed the look. I do love dressing up. Okay, that's enough.

The ceremony was short and sweet, and they were wonderfully happy! Then off I rushed to check the hall again, check in with the sound guy, and meet the entertainment. It was a college male acapella group; they were really good. Fast forward to the end of the reception; I was talking to the president of the group and Meredith's dad asked if he was hitting on me. The guy said a little bit and her dad said I was single. It may have only been a split second, but I thought about not staying silent. I ended up saying that my boyfriend was just a few feet away. But I keep wondering about that split second. 

I got to chat with Dwight a bit more and see Doll again a few times before she and her family had to head home. 
I'm starting to feel that I'm coming up to a crossroads. That's scary to me. So what do you think it'll be? Do I dare turn off the straight and narrow? We shall see. 

Family Ties

Everyone loves the bunch of nuts on their family tree.

This past weekend Tee and I went to St. Louis for a hockey game. We stayed with his cousin and I was a little nervous, not knowing what to expect.  I'm really not sure what I was so worried about, it was a lot of fun. Tee and I did some stuff just the two of us, and we also spent a good amount of time hanging out with the others. It's only been more and more family since then.



A while back, (a couple years, I think) Tee's dad had a nasty type of kidney cancer. It doesn't respond to chemo or radiation, and basically the only option was to take the kidney out. He was doing really well, but at his last check they found a couple spots on his lung. Last week he went in for a biopsy and it's cancer again. So I've become kind of protective of Tee and his family. It drives me nuts that there's nothing I can do to help. There's a drug that they're going to try, but it's going to be a rough road. I know I said I wanted something to make me more sensitive and sympathetic to him, but this isn't what I meant. And now I'm stuck. I'm sure I'm driving him crazy being all concerned and hovery. Seriously. Google or Chrome or the internet or whatever it is that controls the words and spells on here REALLY needs to expand their horizons.

I was afraid to see him as I didn't know how he'd respond to this whole situation and everything. I tried to keep us kind of busy this weekend. On Friday we went out to eat with my sister and were out for a few hours. When we were in DC, we got a puzzle to put up on his wall, like an old world map, and we started that after dinner. Here are my mad puzzle skillz:

You may not think it looks like much, but you're wrong. And rude. Just sit there in your wrongness and rudeness. 

We (well, mostly me) worked on the puzzle for quite a while on Saturday too. We came back and he went to see his family, and I went home. I wasn't sure if I should offer or insist on going to support him; I tried to just make it clear that I would be happy to do whatever he needed.  Saturday night, we went out to a brewery with his brother. It turned out nicely because a friend of mine was playing that night, so there were a few people I knew. 

Sunday, I helped make some wedding favors while he stayed and hung out with my parents. I think he watched sports the whole time. Not sad I missed that. 

I was talking to a friend about relationships today and I had a revelation: Tee is like a dog and I'm like a cat. So, you know, it's not impossible, but it's a struggle. So sometimes it's like this:

   And other times it's this: 

Sad, but true. I even told a coworker about this and she gasped and said, "Oh you are like a cat, Laura!" I'm sure there's a way to get past this. Or not. As a cat trapped in a human body, I'm indifferent. I'll care when there are treats involved.