23.12.10
Indiana Christmas
Tomorrow we'll all be here ... well, almost all of us {dang distance and stuff}.
Merry Christmas via a voice that rings of home.
7.12.10
Seeing through the Fog
Interesting. That’s the word that I use when I don’t have the words, that and 'peachy' but 'peachy' was stolen from Papa while 'interesting' is my own. This past week has been that, interesting.
Last night I received a gift, a reminder. Hale was over, we were chatting. Then Sis came over and then Heels. I was fully engaged in conversation, whole wheat pancakes, shoe admiration and talk of crazy. Ah, that did it ~ the talk of crazy. I felt myself separate from the conversation. I knew what was happening but it was easier to get lost in my thoughts and fears rather than to make an effort to stay involved in the conversation before the lit tree. As I dug my feet in, literally, my mind drifted. I added what I could when I could but the conversation between Hale and Sis went from crazy to relationships so the wandering thoughts and roller coaster of emotions increased.
I found focus again after a short and simple sentence directed above. I became a valid participant, keeping Sis and Hale up later than they likely were hoping to be. My mind was free from the worries that the talk of crazy had heaped upon me. And then, as if He knew that my retention is equal to that of Dory and I could have drifted back into 'what if land', Hale {who tends to be a bit more aware of my moments than the average Joe but had no possible way of knowing what he was doing} handed me his phone.
On said phone was this picture. That’s the White Building on the Hill. The last letter I received from my Uncle Mike, talked about seeing through the fog to what really matters. The letter talked about lots of things actually ... my mission, my family, my chosen partner, my patience {or lack thereof} and stubbornness {and the abundance thereof} but he ended it with talk of the fog of life. He ended our conversation here by reminding me that I have the option, the responsibility, to look beyond the fog to what really matters. He spoke of his own fog and the necessity to move through it to his happiness. Then he reminded me, in his own blunt and forceful way, of his love for me, my Grandparents love for me, my parent's love for me and the love from above. I spent the remainder of last night, this morning actually, reminding myself of what matters, of the blessings that surround me on a daily basis. I'm going to hold on to that a bit better, I see through the fog.
Merry Christmas. I would wish a fog free one to you and yours but that's not the point, there will always be fog. Rather I wish you the Eyes and the Love to see beyond it, to what really matters.
6.12.10
Adulthood is not Awful
Sometimes being an adult and dealing with the things that adults have to deal with is far from my favorite. Not having control of a situation is sometimes not my favorite. So when those 'sometimes' get overwhelming I hold tight to the fantastic times of adulthood. They do exist! They are the times when it is three am on a weeknight and you are wide awake having a fantastic conversation. They are the times when you buy the fantastic jacket for a ridiculous price because you don't have to worry about the growing child's need for new shoes quite yet. They are the times when you gather together in the middle of a snow storm ~ something parents would never let you do due to danger ~ for gourmet food, amazing company and story time. They are the times when you come together to celebrate your chastity ~ that's right ~ with a spread of chocolate, chocolate, and Oreos covered in chocolate. Sometimes being an adult means choosing to be like a child ~ I love it!
24.11.10
Grateful for Guys
This post is long overdue. A while back, over a year ago, I made mention of the women in my life. I knew at some point I would need to echo these sentiments for the men in my life but I tend to get wet eyes thinking of all of them and who wants that? But here we are, on the eve of Thanksgiving ... it's time.
I came to this earth with a full roster of amazing men standing ready. My first memory is next to Papa on my rocks watching the sun come up over the Lake, that is my happy place even still. I often sit and listen as friends describe their relationships with their fathers, stepfathers, brothers, grandfathers and other men in their family and think to myself, "You lucked out self!" Yes, with the exception of Papa as he certainly is teetering on the line between simply patient and saint, the men in the family can be overly opinionated and intrusive and pushy and demanding and just on this side of absolutely ridiculous but I wouldn't trade them or their behavior for anything. Because in the quiet moments or in the glances across the busy room or even the loud laughter filled conversations or singing matches across the piano, I see the motivation behind such behavior, unconditional love and support. I have not once questioned my ability to conquer the world because not one of them has ever stopped believing in me, in spite of my behavior. They stand as my advocates and my examples. They have overcome everything this world could throw at them and remain constant to who they are and to what they know to be true.
Recently I was in the car with 50 or so year old woman, single and beautiful. She, with very little reluctance {a brassy old broad she is}, asked about my most recent failed relationship. I laughed it off, likely not the reaction she was expecting but the only one I am able to give sometimes. She did not mirror my blase attitude. Rather she pulled the car over to the side of 13th and began to explain why I would likely never find someone ~ truly, she was gravely serious. She began to list the divine and unique qualities of the men in my family and ended by saying, "Kasi, there may not be another Jeff {that's my Papa but you could also insert the rest of the family men here} out there for you." Instead of sobbing as my worst fear was vocalized I sat there with a genuine smile on my face and again thought, "You lucked out self, you lucked out."
As the years continue on other guys came into my life. Some to offer the truest form of friendship, some to steal my heart for a minute or two, some to see the person that I have yet to become and push me towards that end, some to be a constant source of laughter. I can say, without reservation, that I have the best guys a gal could ever ask for. Yes, it does make for an absolutely ridiculous standard for one man to meet ~ I recognize that. But more than that, I recognize that these men have been and always will be with me. As I look in their eyes or reflect on my time with them, I feel not only a love that is necessary but I see the person I hope to become.
50.Brad Rule{hilarious}
49.Chad Hall{sincere}
48.Justin Lybbert{true}
47.Jon Wright{strong}
46.Ron Labrum{kind}
45.Rick Worthen{bold}
44.Brik Eyre{compassionate}
43.Bill Schupple{endearing}
42.Dan Sessions{accepting}
41.Paul Mogle{cheerful}
40.Nate Svetich{devout}
39.Roger Adams{hard working}
38.Jeff Froebe{genuine}
37.James Kohl{honest}
36.Wayne Bush{patient}
35.Kevin Ludlow{trusting}
34.Mark Baldridge{hopeful}
33.Work Men (x3){pleasant x3}
32.Robert Branham{determined}
31.Tyler Labrum{loyal}
30.Kenny Murray{student and friend, now teacher and brother}
29.Jon McBride{understanding}
28.Kacey Udy{zealous}
27.TJ Davis{capable}
26.David Canfield{adventurous}
25.Richard S. Hagopian{enthusiastic}
24.Joseph Costabile{motivated}
23.Mark K. Schiefelbine{original}
22.JR Haynie{steadfast}
21.Ted Davis{faithful}
20.Steve{joyful}
19.Bunk{my vacation}
18.Brandon{my brother}
17.Dave{my guide}
16.Jeff{my friend}
15.Ace{my hope}
14.Doc{my reminder}
13.Adam{my truth}
12.John{simply steady}
11.Joe{simply growing}
10.Jacob{simply here}
9.Grandpa{simply loving}
8.Uncle Joe{simply fun}
7.Uncle Matt{admire deeply}
6.Uncle Mike{miss desperately}
5.Uncle Max{need consistently}
4.Josh{my chosen friend}
3.Buba{my chosen friend}
2.Gramps{my laughter}
1.Papa{my heart}
You pick up the phone. You get on a plane and show up when you hear 'that voice'. You send flowers to make me laugh. You send emails to remind me that work is likely not really where I want to be. You winterize my home. You hold me when I cry. You keep me grounded. You let me be a part of your children's lives. You force me to talk about things that scare me. You are patient with me. You brush the snow off of my car. You marry the girl that I can get along with for the rest of time. You love my dog. You let me write it in a Hallmark card. You tell me to stop crying. You swear for me. You are impressed with my mad skills in the truck. You remind me of my dreams. You vocalize what I cannot. You stay up late with me. You lead me to the Lord. Thank you.
I came to this earth with a full roster of amazing men standing ready. My first memory is next to Papa on my rocks watching the sun come up over the Lake, that is my happy place even still. I often sit and listen as friends describe their relationships with their fathers, stepfathers, brothers, grandfathers and other men in their family and think to myself, "You lucked out self!" Yes, with the exception of Papa as he certainly is teetering on the line between simply patient and saint, the men in the family can be overly opinionated and intrusive and pushy and demanding and just on this side of absolutely ridiculous but I wouldn't trade them or their behavior for anything. Because in the quiet moments or in the glances across the busy room or even the loud laughter filled conversations or singing matches across the piano, I see the motivation behind such behavior, unconditional love and support. I have not once questioned my ability to conquer the world because not one of them has ever stopped believing in me, in spite of my behavior. They stand as my advocates and my examples. They have overcome everything this world could throw at them and remain constant to who they are and to what they know to be true.
Recently I was in the car with 50 or so year old woman, single and beautiful. She, with very little reluctance {a brassy old broad she is}, asked about my most recent failed relationship. I laughed it off, likely not the reaction she was expecting but the only one I am able to give sometimes. She did not mirror my blase attitude. Rather she pulled the car over to the side of 13th and began to explain why I would likely never find someone ~ truly, she was gravely serious. She began to list the divine and unique qualities of the men in my family and ended by saying, "Kasi, there may not be another Jeff {that's my Papa but you could also insert the rest of the family men here} out there for you." Instead of sobbing as my worst fear was vocalized I sat there with a genuine smile on my face and again thought, "You lucked out self, you lucked out."
As the years continue on other guys came into my life. Some to offer the truest form of friendship, some to steal my heart for a minute or two, some to see the person that I have yet to become and push me towards that end, some to be a constant source of laughter. I can say, without reservation, that I have the best guys a gal could ever ask for. Yes, it does make for an absolutely ridiculous standard for one man to meet ~ I recognize that. But more than that, I recognize that these men have been and always will be with me. As I look in their eyes or reflect on my time with them, I feel not only a love that is necessary but I see the person I hope to become.
50.Brad Rule{hilarious}
49.Chad Hall{sincere}
48.Justin Lybbert{true}
47.Jon Wright{strong}
46.Ron Labrum{kind}
45.Rick Worthen{bold}
44.Brik Eyre{compassionate}
43.Bill Schupple{endearing}
42.Dan Sessions{accepting}
41.Paul Mogle{cheerful}
40.Nate Svetich{devout}
39.Roger Adams{hard working}
38.Jeff Froebe{genuine}
37.James Kohl{honest}
36.Wayne Bush{patient}
35.Kevin Ludlow{trusting}
34.Mark Baldridge{hopeful}
33.Work Men (x3){pleasant x3}
32.Robert Branham{determined}
31.Tyler Labrum{loyal}
30.Kenny Murray{student and friend, now teacher and brother}
29.Jon McBride{understanding}
28.Kacey Udy{zealous}
27.TJ Davis{capable}
26.David Canfield{adventurous}
25.Richard S. Hagopian{enthusiastic}
24.Joseph Costabile{motivated}
23.Mark K. Schiefelbine{original}
22.JR Haynie{steadfast}
21.Ted Davis{faithful}
20.Steve{joyful}
19.Bunk{my vacation}
18.Brandon{my brother}
17.Dave{my guide}
16.Jeff{my friend}
15.Ace{my hope}
14.Doc{my reminder}
13.Adam{my truth}
12.John{simply steady}
11.Joe{simply growing}
10.Jacob{simply here}
9.Grandpa{simply loving}
8.Uncle Joe{simply fun}
7.Uncle Matt{admire deeply}
6.Uncle Mike{miss desperately}
5.Uncle Max{need consistently}
4.Josh{my chosen friend}
3.Buba{my chosen friend}
2.Gramps{my laughter}
1.Papa{my heart}
You pick up the phone. You get on a plane and show up when you hear 'that voice'. You send flowers to make me laugh. You send emails to remind me that work is likely not really where I want to be. You winterize my home. You hold me when I cry. You keep me grounded. You let me be a part of your children's lives. You force me to talk about things that scare me. You are patient with me. You brush the snow off of my car. You marry the girl that I can get along with for the rest of time. You love my dog. You let me write it in a Hallmark card. You tell me to stop crying. You swear for me. You are impressed with my mad skills in the truck. You remind me of my dreams. You vocalize what I cannot. You stay up late with me. You lead me to the Lord. Thank you.
19.11.10
Planes and Plans
This morning as I drove south on the 15 I saw one of these headed out of the valley and wanted to be on it ...
I picked up the phone and called CA, bless his heart for picking up at the ridiculous hour. He reminded this girl that she doesn't really like flying. Thanks! Our conversation continued and he quickly noted the pitchy-antsy voice and he indulged me for a bit before giving a rousing lecture about leaving things undone ~ the latter has been noted and filed away. I focus on the moments he let 'Kasi win', we started to make plans for our trip on a train across the vast lands of Eastern Europe {we have to get there on a plane but I'll drug myself to high heaven ~ pun fully intended} and it was to these plans I returned after the lecture. The click-clack of the train against the rails, the country side, hours of conversation about nothing but our favorite literature, political notions {as I will be taking back my voice as of Jan 1 in regards to this, the year is up}, fancy foods and future trips ... sounds like my piece of heaven. Let's go.
In other news, I don't want to be the one being looked back at ... I want to be the one of the few that are actually possessed, passionately enthralled in the intense now of life.
I picked up the phone and called CA, bless his heart for picking up at the ridiculous hour. He reminded this girl that she doesn't really like flying. Thanks! Our conversation continued and he quickly noted the pitchy-antsy voice and he indulged me for a bit before giving a rousing lecture about leaving things undone ~ the latter has been noted and filed away. I focus on the moments he let 'Kasi win', we started to make plans for our trip on a train across the vast lands of Eastern Europe {we have to get there on a plane but I'll drug myself to high heaven ~ pun fully intended} and it was to these plans I returned after the lecture. The click-clack of the train against the rails, the country side, hours of conversation about nothing but our favorite literature, political notions {as I will be taking back my voice as of Jan 1 in regards to this, the year is up}, fancy foods and future trips ... sounds like my piece of heaven. Let's go.
In other news, I don't want to be the one being looked back at ... I want to be the one of the few that are actually possessed, passionately enthralled in the intense now of life.
"They looked back at me, remotely, possessed by intense life."
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald
10.11.10
Les Voyages en train
This got my mind going last night ... and then, after a brief sleep encounter, again this morning.
Perhaps this is why my dream last night was in Paris, not that I've been to Paris but I'm certain that is where we were. We were there with the crew and laughing hard, then we rode on magic carpets {that were intricate and soft} and finally returned to a warm fire and pumpkin steamers with more laughter ... I like where my subconscious state takes me.
Perhaps this is why my dream last night was in Paris, not that I've been to Paris but I'm certain that is where we were. We were there with the crew and laughing hard, then we rode on magic carpets {that were intricate and soft} and finally returned to a warm fire and pumpkin steamers with more laughter ... I like where my subconscious state takes me.
4.11.10
Happiness is ... Asher, the Favorite
Happiness is …
… seeing the smile on a child’s face after their first performance on stage
… watching Julie and Christopher banter back and forth after 45 years and then watching the Sound of Music
… eating something out a pumpkin that I created that tasted FANTASTIC {toot toot}
… having Gramps and Grams sleeping in my house
… countdowns getting smaller and new reasons for countdowns
… watching my brother bring an audience to laughter’s tears as he performs
… knowing that Stark isn’t quite as perfect as I had initially thought
… having plans for May
… having a routine that is flexible but still my routine
… remembering the fun of riding in trucks with boys
… knowing Papa did well on his LSAT
… eating a chicken’s foot without gagging
… watching Ace stand of furniture for the fifth time {and most likely a sixth and seventh as well}
… Dracula at midnight and Maverick’s at two am and the company
… watching Jeff’s face as he was told he ‘got it’
… Baby Q clearly calling ‘Marsha’ from the kitchen and Porter being just as excited about it as I am
… seeing videos of Harli
… an empty inbox at the office
… singing voicemails
… the Mormon Bachelorette finding love with the boy I would have loved
… a perfect book
… a succinct and valid first Sunday testimony
... blind dates I set up being successful {successful being still in communication a week following date}
… flirtatious texts
… promised visits
… red toes with white polka-dots
… late night conversations
… WH getting ready for babies to come
… green lights from the 15 to San Francisco
… Asher. Why? Well, after two months of not seeing me he made my year … I walked into the reception, the mood very much ‘wedding rush’. I saw Brandon first, he gave me a quick hug but being wise knew who I was really looking for. He pointed in the direction of Stace and the kiddos. Asher, my favorite Ellison Man {I should have thought of this around the fire}, then saw me. It took a moment as he realized that I was standing there. “Kasi!!!”, cue adorable kid running at me with arms outstretched for the catch and hug he knew would be coming. “Hi, hi!” I was expecting to have to reintroduce myself to this little man but he remembered me! We had a moment, its engraved in my memory. I miss him already!!
30.10.10
Choice ... Yep, You've Got One
When I was 17 I had a life changing moment that I'm going to share with you. M and I were as different as the day is long but we laughed together. I was the Mormon and she was ... well, not the Mormon. It did not matter to us as we both held the 'talent' in the theater program and enjoyed being 'in charge' together ~ just as long as we held the power ~ managing to find our own roles in shows without competition or feelings of jealousy {a rarity in teenage girls I believe}.
Then something happened. I heard something from someone that had heard from someone that perhaps may have been there. I was shocked and hurt. I had not been in a fight with a friend since Natalie Dayton over a Labrum or Branham boy, I was eleven when that drama had occurred, I was out of practice as to how to fight but you would not have known it. I remember rehearsal that first night after I had heard, I could not even look at her without wanted to break into tears while screaming and pulling her hair out. I returned home to be greeted by the parentals who asked what was going on, as my face hides nothing, and I responded without words by slamming the bedroom door. I wrote in my journal, "How awful! She's a monster. How could she not think I would care? How could she do this to me?" {Holy dramatic Batman!}
The next several weeks I made life miserable for her, classes and rehearsal turned into hell ~ I can be a witch, ask M. I could not let it go. And I would add fuel to the fire by discussing the situation with those around me, looking for justification. "Heartless ... Cruel ... Inconsiderate ..." and other words that hurt humans decide are absolutely justified in these situations were the leading vocab words during this period of time. This went on for almost six weeks. This tone towards M that I had adopted seeped into all facets of my life. I was cruel to my family and friends, people that knew M and people that lived hours away, my attitude was not discriminatory.
This particular semester I was in in Jen's speech class and her aide. Roughly six week after I turned on the 'witch within' I gave a speech, I don't remember the topic. The next period I was alone with Jen in the classroom. She sat me down and gave me a speech. "Get over it" was the bottom line. I cried and told her how I had been wronged as I had yet to share the reason with her prior to this day. She looked at me and laughed ~ she laughed at me as I sat there with crocodile tears in my eyes, how could she?!?!
{This is how the conversation went in my mind, ten years ~ good gracious! ~ later}
"Kasi, I taught you how to bring those tears to life so don't pull them with me. Now, have you talked with her?"
Heaving sobs, "No, how can I? Did you not hear me?" I was flabbergasted.
"You have been a witch for two months and you haven't even let her tell you what happened?"
"No!"
"Kasi, I've never thought you an incredibly logical person but I never had thought of you as an idiot. You've got to talk to her and let her explain. You and M have somehow, against the odds (I believe she was referring to the Mormon vs. Non-Mormon thing) become best friends but you, not M, are throwing that in the wind. She is not a witch. Talk to her."
"No!"
"Fine but your speech last hour was horrible because this is eating at you. It is causing everything else in your life, including your performance in the show, to suck. So either fix it with M or keep sucking."
Side note: Jen is in a group of less than ten people on the planet that know how to handle me, yes 'handle', when I turn on the ridiculous. Bless those people, I believe there is a special place in Heaven for all of them {or at the very least some 'upgraded' wings, with extra glitter or something}.
Telling me I suck and being serious about it is going to cause me to stop and check on myself. The real tears, the sincere ones that come from realizations, then came. I missed the second half of the day as I realized not only my own ridiculousness but also all that I had screwed up. Here I was, my senior year, shutting out the person that I had been connected to for the last few years without even giving her a chance to explain. In addition I had let almost two months of my final year in high school go by in wallowing and misery, not enjoying anything ~ no football games, no post rehearsal outings, no bantering with the friends ~ I had boxed out life because I felt hurt.
Guess what? That what a choice I made, not something M did. I chose to be ridiculous. I chose to hurt others with my apathy towards their situations because I was hurt by someone. I chose not to confront that person and let it eat at me. I had my hand on the switch that would change all of it the entire time but decided to not flip it, I picked misery and life sucked because of it.
The end of the story is a happy one. M and I made up, it took me a few days to swallow my pride {the story was incredible inaccurate ~ shocking!}, took pictures together, sang together and enjoyed life together again. But that is far from the point I am trying to make. The point I am trying to make {because often I am not clear and ramble} is this: we get to choose happiness. We are able to decide what and who gets to make a dent, for better or worse, in our lives. We can have horrid things thrown at us as we live this life, horribly hard things that cause dark and twisty moments, but we get to decide how we ultimately handle them. I'm not saying we all need to skip around in happy bubble and pretend life is solely rose-colored, there are a plethora of shades. I'm saying chose to smile at the grays and browns. We all have our 'moments' but a year, two years, three years is a really long time to be 'having a moment' ... yep. You get to decide if life sucks because ... Surprise!! It's your life!!
Oh and ... since I'm up on the soapbox ... give people the benefit of the doubt for crying out loud!! It saves time, heartache, headaches and frustration!! No one is perfect! We've all got stuff. And sometimes your stuff is bigger than my stuff and I'll try to be there. But I don't read minds, sorry! So no, I don't know when your heart is broken if you don't tell me. I don't know that I've hurt your feelings if you don't tell me. I don't know that I've made you incredibly frustrated with my cynicism or sarcasm if you don't tell me. I'm trying to be a good and kind person but I'm not Bri {that's my basically perfect and angelic sister for those of you unfortunate souls who don't know her}. I'm me, full of imperfections and quirks. And sometimes, rarely, my stuff is bigger than your stuff {at least in my mind and heart} and I can't be there. I might not want to tell you that my stuff is bigger because you think your stuff is the biggest there ever can be and you are a tender human and can't handle that. But take a minute and a deep breath, go do some Bikram, eat a donut, have a milk steamer and then... Offer the benefit of the doubt. Don't be the me I was in the situation with M, don't hold a grudge and make your life miserable and in turn those lives of all that are around you. Realize that we are all trying, not trying to make you mad or hurt you but rather trying to be a positive influence and friend in your life. But perfection is not yet ours ... so, yep. Make the choice that people in your life have chosen to be there because they love and care for you and are not there to hurt and make you miserable and give them a break. Give me a break. I'll give you a break. Breaks all around!!
Okay ... I'm stepping down now.
Then something happened. I heard something from someone that had heard from someone that perhaps may have been there. I was shocked and hurt. I had not been in a fight with a friend since Natalie Dayton over a Labrum or Branham boy, I was eleven when that drama had occurred, I was out of practice as to how to fight but you would not have known it. I remember rehearsal that first night after I had heard, I could not even look at her without wanted to break into tears while screaming and pulling her hair out. I returned home to be greeted by the parentals who asked what was going on, as my face hides nothing, and I responded without words by slamming the bedroom door. I wrote in my journal, "How awful! She's a monster. How could she not think I would care? How could she do this to me?" {Holy dramatic Batman!}
The next several weeks I made life miserable for her, classes and rehearsal turned into hell ~ I can be a witch, ask M. I could not let it go. And I would add fuel to the fire by discussing the situation with those around me, looking for justification. "Heartless ... Cruel ... Inconsiderate ..." and other words that hurt humans decide are absolutely justified in these situations were the leading vocab words during this period of time. This went on for almost six weeks. This tone towards M that I had adopted seeped into all facets of my life. I was cruel to my family and friends, people that knew M and people that lived hours away, my attitude was not discriminatory.
This particular semester I was in in Jen's speech class and her aide. Roughly six week after I turned on the 'witch within' I gave a speech, I don't remember the topic. The next period I was alone with Jen in the classroom. She sat me down and gave me a speech. "Get over it" was the bottom line. I cried and told her how I had been wronged as I had yet to share the reason with her prior to this day. She looked at me and laughed ~ she laughed at me as I sat there with crocodile tears in my eyes, how could she?!?!
{This is how the conversation went in my mind, ten years ~ good gracious! ~ later}
"Kasi, I taught you how to bring those tears to life so don't pull them with me. Now, have you talked with her?"
Heaving sobs, "No, how can I? Did you not hear me?" I was flabbergasted.
"You have been a witch for two months and you haven't even let her tell you what happened?"
"No!"
"Kasi, I've never thought you an incredibly logical person but I never had thought of you as an idiot. You've got to talk to her and let her explain. You and M have somehow, against the odds (I believe she was referring to the Mormon vs. Non-Mormon thing) become best friends but you, not M, are throwing that in the wind. She is not a witch. Talk to her."
"No!"
"Fine but your speech last hour was horrible because this is eating at you. It is causing everything else in your life, including your performance in the show, to suck. So either fix it with M or keep sucking."
Side note: Jen is in a group of less than ten people on the planet that know how to handle me, yes 'handle', when I turn on the ridiculous. Bless those people, I believe there is a special place in Heaven for all of them {or at the very least some 'upgraded' wings, with extra glitter or something}.
Telling me I suck and being serious about it is going to cause me to stop and check on myself. The real tears, the sincere ones that come from realizations, then came. I missed the second half of the day as I realized not only my own ridiculousness but also all that I had screwed up. Here I was, my senior year, shutting out the person that I had been connected to for the last few years without even giving her a chance to explain. In addition I had let almost two months of my final year in high school go by in wallowing and misery, not enjoying anything ~ no football games, no post rehearsal outings, no bantering with the friends ~ I had boxed out life because I felt hurt.
Guess what? That what a choice I made, not something M did. I chose to be ridiculous. I chose to hurt others with my apathy towards their situations because I was hurt by someone. I chose not to confront that person and let it eat at me. I had my hand on the switch that would change all of it the entire time but decided to not flip it, I picked misery and life sucked because of it.
The end of the story is a happy one. M and I made up, it took me a few days to swallow my pride {the story was incredible inaccurate ~ shocking!}, took pictures together, sang together and enjoyed life together again. But that is far from the point I am trying to make. The point I am trying to make {because often I am not clear and ramble} is this: we get to choose happiness. We are able to decide what and who gets to make a dent, for better or worse, in our lives. We can have horrid things thrown at us as we live this life, horribly hard things that cause dark and twisty moments, but we get to decide how we ultimately handle them. I'm not saying we all need to skip around in happy bubble and pretend life is solely rose-colored, there are a plethora of shades. I'm saying chose to smile at the grays and browns. We all have our 'moments' but a year, two years, three years is a really long time to be 'having a moment' ... yep. You get to decide if life sucks because ... Surprise!! It's your life!!
Oh and ... since I'm up on the soapbox ... give people the benefit of the doubt for crying out loud!! It saves time, heartache, headaches and frustration!! No one is perfect! We've all got stuff. And sometimes your stuff is bigger than my stuff and I'll try to be there. But I don't read minds, sorry! So no, I don't know when your heart is broken if you don't tell me. I don't know that I've hurt your feelings if you don't tell me. I don't know that I've made you incredibly frustrated with my cynicism or sarcasm if you don't tell me. I'm trying to be a good and kind person but I'm not Bri {that's my basically perfect and angelic sister for those of you unfortunate souls who don't know her}. I'm me, full of imperfections and quirks. And sometimes, rarely, my stuff is bigger than your stuff {at least in my mind and heart} and I can't be there. I might not want to tell you that my stuff is bigger because you think your stuff is the biggest there ever can be and you are a tender human and can't handle that. But take a minute and a deep breath, go do some Bikram, eat a donut, have a milk steamer and then... Offer the benefit of the doubt. Don't be the me I was in the situation with M, don't hold a grudge and make your life miserable and in turn those lives of all that are around you. Realize that we are all trying, not trying to make you mad or hurt you but rather trying to be a positive influence and friend in your life. But perfection is not yet ours ... so, yep. Make the choice that people in your life have chosen to be there because they love and care for you and are not there to hurt and make you miserable and give them a break. Give me a break. I'll give you a break. Breaks all around!!
Okay ... I'm stepping down now.
28.10.10
Look Up and Dance!
The other night I was standing at the top of a staircase in the Student Center at UVU. I had on shoes that made me fear walking down those stairs so Stark and I stood at the top waiting for my brother post his hillarious performance in Noises Off. As we stood discussing faces {another post for another day} a couple began to walk up the stairs. Sporting hot pink pin stripes ~ take a minute to create that visual in your mind's eye ~ they climbed up the thirty plus steps. As they did so not once did they look up. Mind you, girl in said couple was wearing shoes much more dangerous than mine. But had they looked up though they would have seen Stark and I making faces to convey our points and I'm certain these faces would have provided for a bit of car-ride-home conversation, we were being funny! Instead they got to the top of the stairs, looked up ~ only because they saw my black bowed high rise shoes and Stark's multi-toned loffers ~ and were caught completely off guard! How could someone be standing at the top of the stairs?!? The nerve! We threw off their steps and I'm convinced the rest of their evening by startling them with our presence at the top of the stairs as their faces shared shock and what looked to be a bit more than a bit of frustration at us.
On the drive home that night, through the snow!, I thought about this moment and another memory came back to me.
Ace and I were driving home from an afternoon at the school and saw a site!! As we were stopped at Bangerter and 53rd South I turned to my left and saw a old suburban full of a mom and boys {dear Above, I'd like that life in ten years or so ~ the sans girl part}. Mom was driving, windows were down. Baby, probably 17 or 18 months, was in his car seat in the middle seat and two big brothers, probably 3 and 4, were in the back seat behind lightly tinted windows. The song was loud, something upbeat. Mom was jamming out! Singing at the top of her lungs and dancing as if her car was dependent on her energy to move again once the light changed. I pointed out the show to Ace and we both watched for the next two and half miles and three stop lights. Mom did not care who was watching! She was dancing and singing for all or for no one. Occasionally she would look in the rear view mirror and smile or wink at one of the boys, she was absolutely content with her life in this moment. The boys were happy about life, not yet having reached the age where this would cause utter humiliation for them. Baby would laugh at Mom and then turn to see Ace and I laughing, his response was a precious giggle and a game of peak-a-boo. The two older brothers were in the back smiling and waving, naive to the fact that in three years they will be begging their mom to roll up the window and calm down. That blue suburban and its occupants were living and loving every minute of it!
So, back to my snowy drive home and those thoughts, LOOK UP! Good looking people making funny faces are standing at the top of the stairs!! There are people dancing in the car next to you!! Join them!! Don't be shocked and frustrated when you are looking at your feet because you've decided to wear cute but totally unreasonable shoes and look up only find yourself face to face with something unexpected ~ it really wouldn't have been unexpected if you had looked up!! And make faces back at the cute baby boy, one day you'll have one just like it!! Be happy!! Do something your scared of doing, be rebel in regards to your natural self-reserved inclinations ~ dance in the car, walk down the stairs in ridiculous shoes, sing in your big voice {on pitch or not} with the windows down ~ and love every minute of it!! Stop being ridiculously-ridiculous {another post for another time} and LOOK UP and DANCE!!
PS ~ This may be my version of this video.
On the drive home that night, through the snow!, I thought about this moment and another memory came back to me.
Ace and I were driving home from an afternoon at the school and saw a site!! As we were stopped at Bangerter and 53rd South I turned to my left and saw a old suburban full of a mom and boys {dear Above, I'd like that life in ten years or so ~ the sans girl part}. Mom was driving, windows were down. Baby, probably 17 or 18 months, was in his car seat in the middle seat and two big brothers, probably 3 and 4, were in the back seat behind lightly tinted windows. The song was loud, something upbeat. Mom was jamming out! Singing at the top of her lungs and dancing as if her car was dependent on her energy to move again once the light changed. I pointed out the show to Ace and we both watched for the next two and half miles and three stop lights. Mom did not care who was watching! She was dancing and singing for all or for no one. Occasionally she would look in the rear view mirror and smile or wink at one of the boys, she was absolutely content with her life in this moment. The boys were happy about life, not yet having reached the age where this would cause utter humiliation for them. Baby would laugh at Mom and then turn to see Ace and I laughing, his response was a precious giggle and a game of peak-a-boo. The two older brothers were in the back smiling and waving, naive to the fact that in three years they will be begging their mom to roll up the window and calm down. That blue suburban and its occupants were living and loving every minute of it!
So, back to my snowy drive home and those thoughts, LOOK UP! Good looking people making funny faces are standing at the top of the stairs!! There are people dancing in the car next to you!! Join them!! Don't be shocked and frustrated when you are looking at your feet because you've decided to wear cute but totally unreasonable shoes and look up only find yourself face to face with something unexpected ~ it really wouldn't have been unexpected if you had looked up!! And make faces back at the cute baby boy, one day you'll have one just like it!! Be happy!! Do something your scared of doing, be rebel in regards to your natural self-reserved inclinations ~ dance in the car, walk down the stairs in ridiculous shoes, sing in your big voice {on pitch or not} with the windows down ~ and love every minute of it!! Stop being ridiculously-ridiculous {another post for another time} and LOOK UP and DANCE!!
PS ~ This may be my version of this video.
7.10.10
Surround Yourself with BRILLIANCE
I've done a bang up job with this as of late.
Meet Ace. I claim him as my friend, my roommate, my Criminal Minds pal, my favorite story teller and the best brownie maker I know {for real, this is surpassing my Robs}. On Tuesday night I took my place in my chair just to the left of Man in Chair and was lost in his world {created by two of my married crushes{these are safe, incredibly platonic, crushes that simply result in my already unreasonable expectation for a mate to become just a little bit more unreasonable, so relax} Boy Kace and Dave}. I laughed, I cried, I laughed and I cried again. I have lots of words but none of them do justice to this performance. Go! See the show! Go! I will go with you! Ace has managed to surpass even his own high standard on stage. I know, I'm gushing but as roommate and friend I have a right ~ he truly is BRILLIANT!
On the same note, the cast of Drowsy is BRILLIANT! I have yet to watch Bintzy's cast {I needed to separate my joyous nights} but I might have fallen in love with several different people that graced that round stage on Tuesday night ~ its a quick love, fleeting as quickly as the exit to stage right but it is love. Ensemble boy #1 can dance with a grace I have never seen in any woman. David G made my heart happy as he tapped in and out of that front door. Beany was hilarious. Huck lost his previous title and won his own. And Bones ... well, I could listen to him sing all night and watching him on roller-skates put a smile on my face. And Marc ~ well, I adore her, it's that simple. BRILLIANCE!!
Meet Adje. By day she manages marketing for some company. By night she fights for the freedom of Orphans on the streets of London. She graces the stage at the Grand in white tights {my only complaint in the costume department} in stunning auburn hair, she catches the eye initially. Then she opens her mouth and ... words again fail me. She puts a spell on the audience as she sings of love and what that love will move someone to do. Brilliant!
I live with Ace and Adje and I are ladies that dine together and talk together daily ... so my life currently is pretty BRILLIANT!!
Meet Ace. I claim him as my friend, my roommate, my Criminal Minds pal, my favorite story teller and the best brownie maker I know {for real, this is surpassing my Robs}. On Tuesday night I took my place in my chair just to the left of Man in Chair and was lost in his world {created by two of my married crushes{these are safe, incredibly platonic, crushes that simply result in my already unreasonable expectation for a mate to become just a little bit more unreasonable, so relax} Boy Kace and Dave}. I laughed, I cried, I laughed and I cried again. I have lots of words but none of them do justice to this performance. Go! See the show! Go! I will go with you! Ace has managed to surpass even his own high standard on stage. I know, I'm gushing but as roommate and friend I have a right ~ he truly is BRILLIANT!
On the same note, the cast of Drowsy is BRILLIANT! I have yet to watch Bintzy's cast {I needed to separate my joyous nights} but I might have fallen in love with several different people that graced that round stage on Tuesday night ~ its a quick love, fleeting as quickly as the exit to stage right but it is love. Ensemble boy #1 can dance with a grace I have never seen in any woman. David G made my heart happy as he tapped in and out of that front door. Beany was hilarious. Huck lost his previous title and won his own. And Bones ... well, I could listen to him sing all night and watching him on roller-skates put a smile on my face. And Marc ~ well, I adore her, it's that simple. BRILLIANCE!!
I live with Ace and Adje and I are ladies that dine together and talk together daily ... so my life currently is pretty BRILLIANT!!
22.9.10
Happy Place
While living in the house on the hill I was a little bit in love with the seven o'clock hour. It was post the madness of soccer/taekwondo/tball/computer/art/homework afternoons and the momentary chaos as dinner was discovered or picked up. It began as soon as the phrase, "I'm done" was uttered at the table. Cowboy and Girlfriend would clear their plates and head up for shower/bath time. As they did this those of us left downstairs would enjoy adult conversation about the children's hilarious antics as we cleaned up {if I was in charge of dinner it took less time as it was simply a matter of throwing out the takeout cartons}. This gave the children about ten to fifteen minutes up there on their own. Then the grownups {I'm numbering myself in this group} would walk up those stairs to hear Cowboy singing HAIRSPRAY at the top of his lungs and Girlfriend fumbling around in the drawer for lotion.
Then we had pajama choosing time, boy would be decisive {unless he was layering 14 or 17 pair of pajamas} while girl would contemplate each option and the effects it would have on her sleep {the 'slippery ones' felt nice but made her slip, the 'footed ones' got really hot, the 'dog ones' were cute but rolled funny if she rolled ect. ect. ect}. 15 more minutes would pass and before we knew it the clock read 7:35. Teeth ... timers on and songs sung through the mouth full of goop, happy children! Then we would all jump into the bed in the Princess room with books in hand. We read and we read. Depending on the guest that evening there may have been voices as some of our favorites were read. When Cowboy chose the 'truck' book he would chime in as each page turned announcing his favorite, the 'digger' or the 'wator' {how I miss his speech issues}. Girlfriend would remind us of the end often before the beginning if she was tired as she has needs the happy ending to be confirmed to have happy sleeps. The kiddos would find a comfy place and close their eyes as they listened to the familiar lines. By the time the clock read 8:03 both would be out, flailing around the bed in sweet slumber. I often lingered there in the peaceful moment that ended their day, knowing that the next day would bring a bit more chaos but smiling because I knew the end would be the same.
This reading routine was in my house growing up, both morning and night we were read to. We were capable children and all of us were reading on our own at a young age but there is just something familiar and comforting about hearing the voice of those that love you most reading the tales that make you laugh, cry and wonder about life. Papa read calmly and with an ease while Mom read with the energy of a child. Mom read in the morning, Papa at night. And then there is my favorite read of the year ... Gramps. As he reads the story that gives Life and Love to my favorite time of year I can close my eyes and be the seven year old lying half on the carpet half on the wood floor in the family room of the Lake Forest house with my feet almost in the fire to keep them warm, Papa watching closely so that his little girl doesn't go up in flames. Gramps has a voice that can command attention, sooth my hurt heart, and calm any frustration. I love it.
I'm at a happy place in life, a very happy place. And although I cannot give credit to one grand moment for putting me in this happy place I do give credit to a gazillion little moments, to the countdowns, to the faces that surround me and in this particular post, to the voices that read to me. In the last month the voices have
ranged from Papa to Ace to CA to Ace to Jack to Ace {Ace happens to be a fantastic reader and my roommate at present, its incredibly convenient}. I curl up in the perfect train blanket I have commandeered for myself on the big black LoveSac and listen as stories are told of monsters, alphabetic demises, and floating princesses. I find myself laughing as characters take familiar yet intriguing shape. And as the story unfolds I find myself wondering if my friend realizes just how much of himself is found in his characters, his creations. As that low bass tells the familiar stories of us I find myself lulled into a needed slumber and forget the worry that was creeping up on me only moments before. I am enchanted with these moments, they are my happy place in an already joyful life.
Then we had pajama choosing time, boy would be decisive {unless he was layering 14 or 17 pair of pajamas} while girl would contemplate each option and the effects it would have on her sleep {the 'slippery ones' felt nice but made her slip, the 'footed ones' got really hot, the 'dog ones' were cute but rolled funny if she rolled ect. ect. ect}. 15 more minutes would pass and before we knew it the clock read 7:35. Teeth ... timers on and songs sung through the mouth full of goop, happy children! Then we would all jump into the bed in the Princess room with books in hand. We read and we read. Depending on the guest that evening there may have been voices as some of our favorites were read. When Cowboy chose the 'truck' book he would chime in as each page turned announcing his favorite, the 'digger' or the 'wator' {how I miss his speech issues}. Girlfriend would remind us of the end often before the beginning if she was tired as she has needs the happy ending to be confirmed to have happy sleeps. The kiddos would find a comfy place and close their eyes as they listened to the familiar lines. By the time the clock read 8:03 both would be out, flailing around the bed in sweet slumber. I often lingered there in the peaceful moment that ended their day, knowing that the next day would bring a bit more chaos but smiling because I knew the end would be the same. 
I'm at a happy place in life, a very happy place. And although I cannot give credit to one grand moment for putting me in this happy place I do give credit to a gazillion little moments, to the countdowns, to the faces that surround me and in this particular post, to the voices that read to me. In the last month the voices have
ranged from Papa to Ace to CA to Ace to Jack to Ace {Ace happens to be a fantastic reader and my roommate at present, its incredibly convenient}. I curl up in the perfect train blanket I have commandeered for myself on the big black LoveSac and listen as stories are told of monsters, alphabetic demises, and floating princesses. I find myself laughing as characters take familiar yet intriguing shape. And as the story unfolds I find myself wondering if my friend realizes just how much of himself is found in his characters, his creations. As that low bass tells the familiar stories of us I find myself lulled into a needed slumber and forget the worry that was creeping up on me only moments before. I am enchanted with these moments, they are my happy place in an already joyful life.
14.9.10
8.9.10
Raindrops on Rooftops
I love thunderstorms, love them. I love walking in them, love watching them, love hearing them, and above all love falling asleep as they occur outside of my safe and warm home.
However, last night I was in bed and asleep prior to the stroke of midnight and was awoken by a clap, a loud clap ... actually it was more of a
... it was in the house, I was sure. I sat straight up, heart pounding, luckily not hitting my head on the ceiling {I love my loft bed}. For a moment, it was brief, I was sure that Ace had somehow acquired a firearm of some sort and shot Beany or the downstairs neighbors had finally had enough of the eleven o'clock sing-a-long hour and taken action with a rifle. I shook that fear out of me quickly, guns and I are not friendly with one another. Then another BOOM!! Fright led to flight and I jumped out of bed {in my Jumpin' Jammerz obviously, yep!}, there was no way I was going to get back to sleep with gun fire going off all around me. By the time I hit the door my mind had found footing and realized that it was a thunderstorm outside, a tremendous thunderstorm.
Ace and Beany were wide awake and not caught up in the shock of it and I quickly mirrored their calm, although with my own twist of mumbling and inaudible sounds. With a pat on the shoulders and an assurance that there were no fire arms in the vicinity, I climbed back up to bed. But I was up. I called CA, explaining through his laughter ~ as I had told him earlier in the day that I would be asleep by 11 ~ that I was asleep but woken by the storm. In my explanation he heard a
However, last night I was in bed and asleep prior to the stroke of midnight and was awoken by a clap, a loud clap ... actually it was more of a
BOOM!
Ace and Beany were wide awake and not caught up in the shock of it and I quickly mirrored their calm, although with my own twist of mumbling and inaudible sounds. With a pat on the shoulders and an assurance that there were no fire arms in the vicinity, I climbed back up to bed. But I was up. I called CA, explaining through his laughter ~ as I had told him earlier in the day that I would be asleep by 11 ~ that I was asleep but woken by the storm. In my explanation he heard a
CLAP!
..."WOW!" He then stopped laughing, sensing that the late hour and my lack of sleep over the weekend was causing a bit more emotion from this girl than normal. He began humming sounds from my favorite film and like a trained Pavlov dog my mind started to list happy and good things ~ the humming continued.
- The mountains and I finally have a great relationship, I love seeing the sun rise behind them!
- Work is 8.7 minutes from my front door
- Friends and siblings are close at hand
- Bleu is happy and working after another cross country trip
- A cloud created in the likeness of Mickey will soon be in my possession ~ for real!
- Bedtime usually includes a story or a song, I'm currently in love with my living situation
- Beans and I both had a moment, me on a plane and he in the van ... we sure do like each other a lot
- Chez and Baby Paige have stolen my heart
- This past weekend reminded me of what I truly want and desire
- Watching the 'student' become the 'master' causes happy tears and sincere joy, again reminding me of what I need to work toward and strive for
- Trucks make me happy and normally those that drive them
- Pajama parties {yellow and cheetah print are en route!!!}
- Papa's texts
- Mom's messages
- Gchat conversations
- Blonde hair
23.8.10
It Only Take a Moment ...
Yesterday I had a moment. I had a moment when I thought, "Heck {as it was the Sabbath and I try to curb my mouth on this day}, I cannot be alone." I found myself, for the first time in my life actually, on my own and in need of someone else, I'm not alone very often with the need for a dress zip {my 'me-cations' are usually on a beach somewhere or don't call for fancy-zippered-clothing}. This might cause some serious issues with my bicoastal marriage idea. In CA I had Cass who was more than willing to stand on the bed to help. Here at home I've got a Mom. In UT I had Mern who was willing to do the job. On the mission, well, obviously companions are there for a reason. That's right folks, I was almost sans clothing for my meetings yesterday as there is this half inch portion of my back that I was certain my arms could not reach. But after prayer and some SERIOUS contorted arm movement I got it all zipped up {pun fully intended}. PHEW!! My thoughts on love and marriage can go right back into place!!
Then I had this moment ... what am I suppose to wear? Yes, roommates/parents/fellow travelers are helpful when picking things like this out. Again, perhaps I should not be on my own. I wanted to look good and I wasn't sure which outfit would do the trick {post yesterdays events I think 'trick' is a proper word to use}. Then, my brain turned on, no need to fret into a sweat, this is why we have modern technology. So I shot off these texts ...
Then I had this moment ... what am I suppose to wear? Yes, roommates/parents/fellow travelers are helpful when picking things like this out. Again, perhaps I should not be on my own. I wanted to look good and I wasn't sure which outfit would do the trick {post yesterdays events I think 'trick' is a proper word to use}. Then, my brain turned on, no need to fret into a sweat, this is why we have modern technology. So I shot off these texts ...
Option #1
or
Option #2
The vote came back and out I went in Option #1.
So what have I learned from this? Well, my arms can do things that I could not have even hoped for prior to yesterday and that my 'people' have opinions that come through LOUD and CLEAR via text. It was a moment folks, nothing life changing!
11.8.10
Conjugal Visits
One day post bedtime rituals with Girlfriend and Cowboy we were down stairs discussing life and the like. I was frustrated about something, he was frustrated about something. We were sharing our frustrations when Bunk looked at the map on the wall in the other room and rerouted his thoughts. I continued to vent my frustrations as I watched his brain work our this new idea. Then the statement that may have changed my life came ...
"Kas, I think the answer is bicoastal marriage." YES! Why had I not thought of this before?
{My assumption is that those of you in functional monogamous relationships are saying something like Sam said to Jonah while discussing the long distance relationship viability "1, 2, 3, 4 ... like 26 states between here and there. Now that's a sign!" But perhaps it is a good sign!!}
As time marches on I think this is a better and better idea. I am not an easy person to live with, I like my time and my space and my things. I have moments when I want to walk or run on my own for hours/days/weeks at a time. I have days when I do not want another human's opinion or thought. I can be happy and delightful, on my own terms. I am not the average romantic and truly believe in the age old cliche ~ absence makes the heart grow fonder. I do not protest when my Uncles, all wise and knowing, make the statement that I will be a much more difficult match now than I was when I was 21, I'm just as certain as they are that this is the case.
So to make things easier on my husband, who I will love and adore with all of my heart, I think that our relationship should span the country. He can be with me enough to realize that he loves me and not enough to realize he has likely gotten in way over his head. He can remember why we made those promises but not remember or desire to break them. He can capture memories in his mind and enjoy them during the week. He can watch his "Deadliest Catch" while I watch my "Cake Boss" in a completely different local. I will have my emotional retardation moments Tuesday-Thursday and be fun, romantic {because I will not have been overwhelmed with it during the week}, spontaneous wife Friday-Monday morning, our conjugal visits keeping things hot and exciting. And I will not get sick of him. I will not wish him ill moments to cause a delay in his arrival to me. I will not wonder why he could not be more like {insert appropriate name here that will drive him crazy and cause him to throw a bit of a man-fit}. I will not look at him and think the thoughts that I sometimes think when I've been with someone for too long and want to take out their vocal box. I will not grow tired of sweet nothings and romantic moments. I will be excited to see his face, to hold his hand, to hear his thoughts and opinions, to sit in silence with him, to love him! I will make a great weekend wife!
No ... I do not have an issue with commitment, thank you.
And yes ... this was written in jest {well, kind of}.
"Kas, I think the answer is bicoastal marriage." YES! Why had I not thought of this before?
{My assumption is that those of you in functional monogamous relationships are saying something like Sam said to Jonah while discussing the long distance relationship viability "1, 2, 3, 4 ... like 26 states between here and there. Now that's a sign!" But perhaps it is a good sign!!}
As time marches on I think this is a better and better idea. I am not an easy person to live with, I like my time and my space and my things. I have moments when I want to walk or run on my own for hours/days/weeks at a time. I have days when I do not want another human's opinion or thought. I can be happy and delightful, on my own terms. I am not the average romantic and truly believe in the age old cliche ~ absence makes the heart grow fonder. I do not protest when my Uncles, all wise and knowing, make the statement that I will be a much more difficult match now than I was when I was 21, I'm just as certain as they are that this is the case.
So to make things easier on my husband, who I will love and adore with all of my heart, I think that our relationship should span the country. He can be with me enough to realize that he loves me and not enough to realize he has likely gotten in way over his head. He can remember why we made those promises but not remember or desire to break them. He can capture memories in his mind and enjoy them during the week. He can watch his "Deadliest Catch" while I watch my "Cake Boss" in a completely different local. I will have my emotional retardation moments Tuesday-Thursday and be fun, romantic {because I will not have been overwhelmed with it during the week}, spontaneous wife Friday-Monday morning, our conjugal visits keeping things hot and exciting. And I will not get sick of him. I will not wish him ill moments to cause a delay in his arrival to me. I will not wonder why he could not be more like {insert appropriate name here that will drive him crazy and cause him to throw a bit of a man-fit}. I will not look at him and think the thoughts that I sometimes think when I've been with someone for too long and want to take out their vocal box. I will not grow tired of sweet nothings and romantic moments. I will be excited to see his face, to hold his hand, to hear his thoughts and opinions, to sit in silence with him, to love him! I will make a great weekend wife!
No ... I do not have an issue with commitment, thank you.
And yes ... this was written in jest {well, kind of}.
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