Recycle.

Hi friends!

It seems I have been away from my blog as of late.

I wish I could say it was because I have been "ohsobusy" but no. 

I'm unemployed, remember? 

Thankfully, I have finally landed a job, and I start in a month. Couldn't be more excited!

(seriously!)

But, since I have no good blogging material to share (besides the thousands of ideas in my head), I am re-posting what I wrote a year ago today. Because it hits home - then again it would hit home anytime I read it.

So read on.

Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming or are too rigid to depart from their routine. 

I got to thinking one day about all those people on the Titanic who passed up dessert at dinner that fateful night in an effort to cut back. From then on, I've tried to be a little more flexible. 

How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed? Does the word 'refrigeration' mean nothing to you? 

How often have your kids dropped in to talk and sat in silence while you watched ' Jeopardy ' on television? 

I cannot count the times I called my sister and said , 'How about going to lunch in a half hour?' She would gas up and stammer, 'I can't. I have clothes on the line. My hair is dirty. I wish I had known yesterday, I had a late breakfast, It looks like rain' And my personal favorite: 'It's Monday.' She died a few years ago. We never did have lunch together. 

Because people cram so much into their lives, we tend to schedule our headaches.. We live on a sparse diet of promises we make to ourselves when all the conditions are perfect! 

We'll go back and visit the grandparents when we get Steve toilet-trained. We'll entertain when we replace the living-room carpet. We'll go on a second honeymoon when we get two more kids out of college. 

Life has a way of accelerating as we get older. The days get shorter, and the list of promises to ourselves gets longer. One morning, we awaken, and all we have to show for our lives is a litany of 'I'm going to,' 'I plan on,' and 'Someday, when things are settled down a bit.' 

When anyone calls my 'seize the moment' friend, she is open to adventure and available for trips. She keeps an open mind on new ideas. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You talk with her for five minutes, and you're ready to trade your bad feet for a pair of Rollerblades and skip an elevator for a bungee cord. 

My lips have not touched ice cream in 10 years. I love ice cream. It's just that I might as well apply it directly to my stomach with a spatula and eliminate the digestive process. The other day, I stopped the car and bought a triple-decker. If my car had hit an iceberg on the way home, I would have died happy. 

Now...go on and have a nice day. Do something you WANT to...not something on your SHOULD DO list. If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?

True

Love this...I found it here.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. 

Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

(I loved this line! I talked about the book here.)

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes. 

 Rosemary Urquico

This was written in response to You Should Date an Illiterate Girl

Nutshell.

Random things About Me I felt like sharing.

I love Oprah. I know people either love her or hate her, but I love her and all the things she does for people. Hate her if you want to, I don’t want to hear it.

I have a tendency to come up with brilliant ideas, get excited, tell the world about them, and then give up on myself.

I don’t believe people when they tell me I’m a good writer, and not to give up on it.

I’ve recently started eating clean. Not only have I lost 7 lbs, I’ve never felt better about myself or my body.

The Boy recently told me I have smiled more in the past 2 weeks than I have in the past 4 months. It made me happy.

I need to travel more. I’m not getting any younger

I don’t think my sisters realize they are my best friends. All of them.

I am funny. I used to be funnier, but I was also sarcastic and cynical then. You don’t have to laugh with me, I am just fine laughing at myself

I don’t know when or how, but I have totally lost my rhythm. I miss tearing up a dance floor.

2007 was my favorite year to date. I was going broke, and making not so good decisions – but I learned a lot about myself, met some great people, and have the greatest memories of that year. I miss San Diego.

My boyfriend doesn’t believe I used to be a crazy fun girl. I miss her sometimes.

I LOVE CHAMPAGNE! The cheaper, the better.

I look forward to reading blogs, and feel like I am friends with these people, even though I have never met them (with the exception of one) and probably never will.

I like how proud Texans are of their state. Never in a million years would you see a house in California waving their state flag in their front yard.

I really want to go blonde again, but I know I never will.

I miss the beach.

All my favorite memories tend to star my five favorite people (minus the boy)

• Walking 14 blocks, barefoot, in downtown San Diego, and finishing an entire pizza before making it home. I’m pretty sure I was with my kindred spirit.
• I have a lot of funny memories involving Morgan.
• “Borrowing” a cheesecake from a coffee shop I worked at after hours, getting spooked by the bagel delivery guy, and the priceless look on Mody’s face.
• Somehow pulling the door of Carly’s mom’s minivan, and calling AAA thinking they can somehow help
• My 27th birthday/Halloween party at Pequito.
• Summer of 2005 at the HV
• Martini’s and Vegas with MC
• Watching Fringe with my BFF. Miss that guy.

I’m apprehensive about working in a cubicle again, but I know it’s the only thing to do if I want to make a living to enjoy my life.

I still don’t believe myself when I have to say “I’m 31”

I would wear dresses everyday if I could.

How is that for random. Who wants to tell me something random about themselves?

Perfect.

 

I’m very lucky that the boyfriend is crafty. Not in the needle and thread kind of way, but in the experimenting with food and wood. Not usually together, but ironically today that is different, because he is out in the garage building me a big ol’ garden box from scratch. Like the one he built me here, but better.

I decided to go out and visit for a little bit, and brave through the flying sawdust and 70% humidity. As I was sitting there watching him saw away, he overcut through a piece of wood and thought his project was officially screwed up. Then he dropped his beverage. I thought, oh boy – now he is going to give up and his day is going to be ruined. But instead he stepped outside the area, lit up a cigarette, paced back and forth and finally said “We’ll work around it, it just won’t be perfect.

Oh how true that statement is.

?

…sometimes she looked at her boyfriend and wondered, "But will he love me like Calvin loves Alice?"

I recently read a short book by Calvin Trillin, called About Alice. It was a tribute to his late wife, who he considered his muse for all his writings. After finishing the book in one night (no joke, its about 75 pages) I half heartedly decided I wanted to be just like her. But I think the reason I loved her most, was reading how her husband loved her so eloquently.

How To Fail As A Girlfriend

Yesterday was my "pseudo"versary. Its like my anniversary, but The Boyfriend and I got off to an awkward dating start, so we really dont know what our technical anniversary is. Not that it matters, I think anniversaries are really worth celebrating when you are married, and his past girlfriends always made a HUGE deal about remembering the dates of everything, so I always just never really planned on making a big deal out of it.

Whoops.

So last night I come home from work to this

And this...

yep, he is wearing my rooster apron

I cant forget to mention that he even FOLDED the paper napkins

He doesn't cook, he grills. So to come home to him cooking me spicy meatballs FROM SCRATCH, and making spicy tomato sauce FROM SCRATCH, and pasta and garlic bread and my favorite champagne? Its pretty monumental.

I walked in with nothing.

GIRLFRIEND FAIL.

Fairytale

I came across this real version of a fairytale this morning while reading My Life As I See It. I think its a fantastic truth about the reality of love, and I am now a favorite of this blog. So here is Flutter's Fairytale, for you to enjoy...

I was talking to a friend, who had gone through a rough break up earlier in the year. She said something interesting to me, something I’d not considered before.

It’s good for me to hear you talk about Clay. Not just the good things, but when you tell me that you’ve had a hard time, or when you guys are frustrated with each other. That you don’t break, you both always bend.

In ten years, we’ve been through as much as two people can go through, together. One thing remains constant:

We.

Love comes unexpectedly, quietly. It comes despite your intentions to find it or to chase it away. It dispels the destructive lie of the fairytale. It is impossibly imperfect. It fucks up your vision of your charming prince on the white horse. You get your prince, but he rides forward on a nasty old mare with a ratty tail. Your prince may take your hand, gentle and strong, but his hair is all wrong and he smells like the mare he rode in on. He may gracefully dismount that horse and tell you that you are the most lovely creature he has set eyes upon, all while silently farting.

Love doesn’t replace reality. Love simply makes reality a little more bearable. Or less, depending on the day.
Love is never based on need and always based on want. That want should burn, slow and even like an ember. It will not come to you unless, somewhere in your soul, you believe you deserve it. If you do not hold that essential truth, all of the love you attract will ring false. You will wonder why the shine always wears off. Find the deserving you, nurture it. That is the one and only perfect love, because it will attract your match as dust  motes to a beam of sun.

Love is wearing your worst old sweat pants while doing chores and not caring how you look. Love is dirty dishes, squeezing toothpaste from the middle of the tube, putting the toilet paper on backwards. It is falling into bed, exhausted and filthy and safe. It is falling asleep with another person in the bed and for the first time, sleeping without fear.  Love is knowing that sex isn’t always great, isn’t always frequent, but also isn’t a chore. Love scrubs toilets, prepares meals that take hours and doing so after your partner’s snoring has kept you up all night.

It is knowing, that you aren’t always right, but that you always strive to be true. When you fail at that, you suck it up, say you’re sorry, mean it and do better next time. It is granting forgiveness before it is asked for. It is never promising to not hurt the other, because you will. Again and again, intentionally, unintentionally. But, it is trying, with your best intention and integrity to not do so. It is accepting that you too, will hurt. You will get hurt. You will drop your grudge, your shield, your weapons and grant the same forgiveness you seek.

Love is forgetting.

Forgetting old wounds, old wars and being present. It is stepping forward in each moment, it is restful. It is manic. It is all screwy. But it remains. It connects, not to your head and not to your heart. Both of those entities lie in their own way, for their own reasons. It connects with your gut, settles in tandem with your intuition.

It holds you in your weakness and leaves you breathless. It changes you and changes them and yet solidifies what is integral in each. It is sometimes underwhelming, while being utterly remarkable. It is the soul, finding what it can cling to, what gives not purpose, but reward.

Love is a reward. It is the only trophy that it is more work to maintain than it is to win.

It is fundamental, but it is never what we think it will be.

It is always more.

3 Day Independence.

Id like to start out this post by saying I am NOT co-dependent. Ive been very single up until this past year, and managed it quite well. I learned to hang even pictures using my fingers as measurements, carry anything heavy out to my car, and even kill an occasional spider (but that was not easy). In my last house, which I shared with 2 boys, I was the one with the most tools.

My boyfriend left last night for Sacramento for 3 days. Yes, JUST 3 days. Since we have been together, this will be the longest we have been apart (cue violin music). I knew I would be a little weirded out being in OUR apartment alone for the first time, but nothing I cant handle. Little did I know in less than 12 hours, I would come up with a list of pros and cons. Which of course, I just HAD to share on my blog.

PRO: Wearing my ugliest pants and t shirt to bed. Of course I do this when he is here, but this time I didn’t think “I hope he doesn’t think Ive lost myself, and turned into a slob” as I put the bleached pajama pants and overstretched t shirt on.

CON: Taking out the trash. Hey, Ive just gotten used to NOT having to do it. That’s all

PRO: Getting the whole bed to myself, and not getting elbowed in the temple like I have been lately.

CON: Waking up every hour wondering why Im in bed alone.

PRO: Shoving his mistress (aka Sally the body pillow) into the closet

CON: Having to turn off the light when I go to bed. (Im afraid of the dark)

PRO: Walking around the house with an ugly pink clay mask on my face (the skin care regimen kind). Yes I do admit, we live together and he should get used to this, but there are somethings I just don’t plan on letting him see me do.

CON: Not having someone to yell to hand me a towel when I forget to grab one, and roaming around blindy (said clay mask was in my eye) trying to find one.

PRO: Going to bed without brushing my teeth, because I knew I wouldn’t be kissing anyone (this isn’t a desire of mine. I was just too tired to make the effort)

CON: Not having someone kiss me good night. (I wont go to sleep without one. I know, puke)

Im sure as the days (yes, only 2 more) drag on, I will find more things Im loving and hating while he is away. But the sap in me will say this – I cant wait to see him Friday night.

Family Time

This past weekend the boyfriend and I flew up north to spend some time with his brother and family. Brother was supposed to have surgery to remove his tumor on Friday, but it didn't happen. And we found out Thursday night, after all his pre op stuff had been completed. Its a frustrating story. And it could have made for a bad weekend, but the family managed to make it fun. I played poker (I think I'm getting good), ate TONS of food, learned how to play Yahtzee, threw a little beer pong in, and spent a day taking some more fun pics

It was a good day - minus the tick removal party we had once we got home. But even that seemed to turn out funny. I wish his brother and girlfriend lived closer, I love spending time with them.

How I Spent A Thursday Evening

I left work last Thursday, grabbed a bucket of KFC, my beach chair and a camera and met the boyfriend at the beach....

 

 

Right when I think life is rough, I am given a fantastic early evening like this one was. 

And I really need to take more pictures.

Oh The Relationship Twenty.

Well, I haven’t quite gained twenty pounds. But I feel like I have. On the outside, I look the same. But in the past 10 months, things have – well – shifted. I remember back in January I bought a pair of jeans because my only two pair that still fit, were getting a little snug. So I wanted a “just in case I expand” pair. That pair is now snug. Wonderful. Sometimes I have to unbutton my pants after I eat, just so I can sit comfortably at my desk at work. And I cant believe I am sharing this with the bloggy world. 

My poor boyfriend. He used to love my hereditary chin waddle (all my sisters have it) and now he is probably wishing he didn’t show it so much love, given its doubled in size.

Or second guessing his saturday morning donut runs.

Yesterday I stayed home from work. Why you ask? Because I “threw my back out.” Whatever that means. Basically Ive been moving stuff and people a lot this month or two, I have bad posture, and I don’t work out. So its only natural that when I bent over to pick up a pillow, excruciating pain shot up my back. Mind you, Im only 30. And a half.

So, I took it as a wake up call. Time to get myself back into some sort of healthy regimen. I bought enough stuff to make breakfast smoothies this week, had a giant salad for lunch, and will take full advantage of my free gym at my apartment complex. By the time summer is over, Im hoping to feel like a million bucks. Yes, I missed the “before summer” boat, whatever.

And yes, that last bite of salad I just had was pretty much all cheese and bacon. Don’t judge me.

S.

"My idea of superwoman is someone who scrubs her own floors." -Bette Midler

I actually own this shirt.

I bought it for the boyfriend when he dressed up as Clark Kent for Halloween this year, then quickly inherited it back to use as a pajama shirt. I love it, its one of my favorites.

But I need to remember, wearing the shirt or not, I am not superwoman. No matter how hard I try to be.

Im not superfriend.

Im not supersister.

Im not supergirlfriend.

Im not superdaughter.

Im not super employee.

And I need to be ok with it. Which is hard. I like to try and make everyone happy. Sometimes I go above and beyond trying to please everyone, or fit everything into a schedule, only to find my spirit completely worn down. And its not like I don’t enjoy the attempt at being superwoman.

I love seeing my friends.

I love bonding with my sisters.

I love being with my boyfriend (when I get to).

I love spending time with my parents.

I love who I work for.

But in the end, I need to remember that I love me too. And sometimes taking a vacation from these things is much needed. 

Speaking of vacations, the boyfriend and I are in desperate need of one. Even a mini spontaneous one. Things have been crazy in our small little world, and I feel like we've been run ragged and we're going to crash (into each other, thats my fear). If only money grew on trees.

To my friends who read this blog, please don’t think Im trying to disappear! Just don’t take it personal if I somehow work up the ability to say “I cant” in the next few weeks coming up. Don’t worry, Im still here. Ill be back to my superfriend self soon. 

Unconditional.

Ive had a pretty interesting week, emotionally. While celebrating my friends nuptials last Friday evening, we found out the boyfriend’s brother has a brain tumor. Im supposed to be the strong one in this situation, holding him up allowing him to break down. But I was quite the opposite. I was a bawling mess, and he was comforting me. Standing out on the dance floor, dancing to the couples dance, crying my eyes out, for the wrong reasons given the time and place. But to any strangers, I just looked like I was crying tears of joy.

The situation has since taken a turn for the somewhat better. Its looking like everything might be ok, but at the same time, its still a scary situation. We’ll know more in the coming weeks.

I wasn’t going to talk about it here. We have the support of our good friends and family. But then I realized, although virtually, your thoughts and words can often be comforting to me. Strange, considering I wouldn’t know if I was standing next to you in an elevator. And yet, I feel like some of you could be a good friend, if we ever met.

Its funny. You never realize how much you truly love someone, until something happens to their immediate family, and it completely rocks your own world.

Cherish.

Today has been an interesting day. I'm very lucky that I get to wake up every morning to a guy that loves me, to converse with friends throughout the day who enjoy my company, and to work at a place where I feel like I'm taken care of. I thought of all of this today as I worked out at 6am, with a spectacular view of the sun rising over the ocean. Pretty rough, I know.

After lunch, I began reading through the blogs I have been putting off all week. Recipes, weekend updates, giveaways, relationship yay's and nay's. Then I read this. And at first it gave me goosebumps, and by the end I was sobbing.

I'm so very lucky. But I don't think I could ever have the strength this family did if I lost someone I loved so tragically. It makes me want to squeeze them even tighter and never let go.

Fogged Up Windows

What has two thumbs and went to the Drive In this weekend?

This Girl (yes, I just made THAT joke)

The Boyfriend had been planning the surprise date for a week, and wouldn’t tell me what we were doing except to dress comfortable and warm, and that we would be leaving Orange County. I actually like surprises, so I didn’t bombard him with questions and ask for hints. So when we drove up to the drive in, I can not tell you how excited I was. The last time I went to a drive in, they had these:

These are what you had to use backintheday to listen to the movie you were watching. Nowadays (I just aged myself) they just use a regular FM transmitter. Back then my parents used to load all the kids in the station wagon, wearing our footie pajamas, with blankets and pillows and off to the movies we would go. Before Saturday night, I honestly was convinced that all drive in theaters in Southern California were gone, tiny little ghost towns, that now serve as a weekend swapmeet. So you can only guess how excited I am that one exists about an hour outside of where I live. Im totally making this a monthly ritual. We saw 3 movies (well, 2 ½) all for the price of one feature at a regular theater. We belched like sailors (classy) while drinking beer in the car because WE COULD. We asked questions about the movie in a normal voice, because there was no one sitting around us. We brought our own food and snacks in, and didn’t have to spend $4 on a small popcorn. WE might have made out like teenagers just because that’s whats you are supposed to do – right?

Needless to say, it made my weekend. I love movies, I love going to the movies, and now Im going to love going to the drive in every month. Who wouldn’t?

Davvvyyyyy.....

"Lookin' fer a place where the air smells clean
Where the trees is tall and the grass is green
Where the fish is fat in an untouched stream
And the teamin' woods is a hunter's dream.
Davy, Davy Crockett, Lookin' fer Paradise!"

Oh dear god, Im sitting at my desk laughing so hard there are potential tears in my eyes. The source of the tickle? Let me give you a little background.

Someone recently asked me what was on the agenda for my weekend up north with The Boy and his family. Everyone knows Im a bit of a planner, so when I said “I don’t really know” I could feel the shocked look on their face through the google IM. So I rambled on about the events I had heard we might be doing.

~Fishing (one of The Boy’s favorite pastimes. Who am I kidding, it’s the only thing he loves more than sandwiches, and me. Im lucky if I pull #3)

~Hunting (not me, but The Boy)

~Shooting pesky rodents (Im involved)

~Visiting a Line Dancing bar (not kidding)

~Playing Poker

~Drinking

Not too bad for a mini vacation, definitely the opposite side of the spectrum from relaxing on a tropical beach. But I consider myself pretty open to doing different things, and I know there is a little redneck in my blood, so Im looking forward to this weekend.

Sorry, I got sidetracked. So as Im listing out these things, I finish off my “instant message” with “I think Im dating Davy Crockett. Im going to buy him a coon skin cap for Christmas.” Followed by me silently laughing to myself at the visual. Which then led to me googling images of “Davy Crockett” which led to me laughing with potential tears in my eyes, as said above. Here is why:

OH MY GOD! I really AM dating Davy Crockett…or maybe the descendent of him.

If any of you know The Boy, you have to admit this picture kind of in a old-cartoon-sort-of-way LOOKS like him. Am I wrong?

Don’t get me wrong. Dating Davy Crockett isn’t a bad thing. Its very manly and quite a turn on, and he is incredibly good looking. But still, until he reads this blog (which I just notified him today I write one – talk about timing) he will have no idea why he has earned the nickname.

I wanna know what love isssssssssssssss….I want you to shoooooow me!

No, this isn’t me belting out some undying news about my current love life.

Yes, this is a blog about people asking me for love/dating advice.

If you know me, you should be laughing by now. If you don’t know me, well laugh anyways. When it comes to dating or relationship advice, I sure think I can dish it out but I cant take it and I might possibly be the worst example to follow. I'm neurotic, I over analyze, I cling, I try and fix, and if the poor sucker makes it through all this, I do a big ol switch-a-roo at about 6 weeks and push away, criticize, find everything possibly wrong (why is your middle toe longer than the other?) and then finally decide they are all wrong for me and we never had chemistry in the first place. There are usually 2 types of scenarios in my dating world. The guy I move too fast with (usually goes along with the over analyze/cling part) and we all know those guys don’t stick around once they have gotten their cake (sorry mom if you are reading this. I promise I'm not a hussie) and then the guy that’s probably perfect for me (this is usually the 6 week guy, and I never let them see me sans clothing).

All of my good friends and family know this about me. So why is it suddenly 2 people in my life are suddenly turning to ME for dating advice? And sadly enough, its actually WORKING for them?

I think its because I'm finally in a relationship lasting longer than 6 weeks (almost doubled!) WITH a guy I probably moved too quickly with (thanks for sticking it out) and these 2 people are thinking “if it worked for her of all people, she must know SOMETHING that can make it work for me). Because these 2 people have some of the same dating patterns I do. And I'm not mentioning names for a reason.

Ill wrap this up so it doesn’t turn out to be like a drawn out journal entry. Bottom line is this…I guess when the right one comes along, there is no need to go back to your old patterns. Ive found someone who doesn’t make me neurotic, doesn’t give me the chance to even think about over analyzing. He has his issues (and oh boy so do I) but we don’t try and fix what the other doesn’t want help fixing in themselves already. I don’t want to push him away, I have no desire to criticize anything he says or does (yet) and I actually like his toes (eventhough he has monster size 15 feet with hair on his toes you could comb over – sorry babe if you actually read these things).

So my words of advice to my mom and sister (oops, did I just out you?) Just relax and have a good time. Don’t think too much, and just be you. Because there is a crazy guy out there that will like you and your weird quirks. Its like the saying "always show the you in you that makes you the you that you are."

And to the lucky guy I get to wake up to most mornings…I promise I'm not as crazy as I made myself sound here. Im lucky to have found you, and you are the best thing that has happened to me.

And to my BFF who I KNOW is going to rip this to shreds – go easy on me.