joy

I'm not a girl who cries during breakups. I do, but for like a half an hour. The day the breakup happens. I have my sad moments and I eat a little ice cream and I move on with life. Whether I'm the person doing the breaking up or being broken up with, the next day I am happy.

At least, that's how it's always gone until this time. Phil broke up with me, and OH MY GOODNESS THE CRYING. The uncontrollable crying, and the feeling ridiculous for crying so much, and the almost crying at school and at work. And the having zero control over whether or not I was going to eat that ice cream or peanut butter. And just feeling so sad and hating it.

That was okay. The crying was okay, because I needed to do that for me. I needed to be sad and I need to cry a lot and eat a lot of sweets. I couldn't be happy right away.

But then I was reading the Easter play that I'm in for church this year. One of the messages in the play is about how God has gifts for us, sitting out in His open arms. They’re free and He wants us to have them, but we have to take them. The only thing we have to do is TAKE them. And one of those gifts is joy.

I couldn’t be happy right away because I could be happy at all on my own. I had to cry because I couldn’t do anything but cry on my own. But after I had my crying, and after I got frustrated with not being able to feel even a little happy, then I remembered where I can find joy.

And let me tell you, this is only the kind of joy God can give. To go from crying all day to immediately the next day not even feeling like I wanted or needed to cry. And remembering in my joy that God knows where I’m going. God knows what and who should be where in my life. And if He knows that, and if I trust that He knows better than I, what need is there for crying?

key

So, remember a while back when I posted about the Tiffany & Co key necklaces that I'd fallen in love with but would never ever buy due to the fact that I can't make myself spend that much on jewelry for myself? Well, I now own one.

When I went with Phil's family to Cranberry Fest, on the way I flipped through a magazine next to Phil. He looked at some of it with me, and on one of those pages was an ad for the Tiffany keys. I mentioned something about how I thought they were awesome but would never get one because of the price tag. Phil asked me if I'd be mad if he got me one, in his usual joking voice that means he's not serious about what he's saying. I laughed and told him, yes, I'd be mad, but I'd probably get over it. And then put on the necklace and NEVER TAKE IT OFF.

I promptly forgot about the conversation, but apparently Phil didn't. And he picked out the same key that I'd have picked out for myself and gave it to me for Christmas. In a pretty little Tiffany blue box.

I have the best boyfriend in the whole world. And yes, I thought that before Christmas.

adorable

My boyfriend is adorable. And I'm sure he'd love that adjective being used to describe him.

Today I had to present a project for a class, and I was stressing out about it, because it was a group thing, and well, I've been a little frustrated with this particular group. So I was frazzled, and texting Phil about it. He told me that'd I'd be fine, that I'm good in front of groups and that all I could do was do my part well, and he had no doubt that I'd do well. All the normal things he says to me when I'm frazzled.

Knowing these things but still being frustrated, I replied with something slightly sarcastic like, "yeah yeah", and he sent back, "do you believe me?". I told him that I did, and his response was, "Good. I'm trustworthy. Like a dog."

He compares himself to a dog to make me smile. This is why I love him.

carving

I didn't dress up this year, but I did manage to carve a pumpkin, something I haven't done in a long time. Phil and I made a owl! And then made fancy pumpkin seeds with the seeds from inside, and proceeded to eat A LOT of them. It was a good day.

hugs

I really like hugs. And kind of hugs. Friend hugs, family hugs, kid hugs, Philip hugs. Love them. I crave a certain kind of hug though. The kind that are...protective. Or...comforting. It's hard to explain.

Let's put it this way. You know how in a hug there's like the person who's leaning into the hug and then the person who's holding the other person up? Kind of both literally and figuratively. The one who needs the hug and the one who's fulfilling the need. Sometimes you both need a hug, and that's different. But I crave the kind of hug where I'm the one who needs the hug. The ones I get from my mom or stepdad or Phil. When they're holding and comforting me, and my only job is to be held.

Sometimes those hugs come from my girlfriends, but most of the time those hugs are excited, girly, we-love-each-other hugs. And hugs with kids are when I'm usually the one who's fulfilling the need. I don't crave those hugs yet, but I suspect I will when I have children.

Right now I haven't been home for two weeks and in those two weeks I only saw Phil for a few hours. Sometimes school and work overtakes my life. I'm heading home tonight and I get to spend time with Phil this weekend. I'm so excited for the hugs.

different

I'm one of those oblivious movie watchers. I watch movies to kind of zone out and not really have to pay tons of attention. To relax. Phil does too -- he's just so much more aware than I am in a relaxed state.

We'll watch a movie and it'll get to the part where most normal people are at least somewhat surprised at the outcome, and Phil will be all unimpressed. Like, oh, well, yeah, that's what was going to happen Didn't you see that apple they showed at the beginning of the movie and then that girl said that one word like 30 minutes in, and then that guy blinked 4 times in 45 seconds turning that one part -- so duh. And I'm all, what guy? There was a guy?

And they say girls are more detail oriented.

darcy

Phil and I just watched Pride and Prejudice. No, I did not force him. In fact, he sort of chose it. He said he wanted to watch one of my movies, knowing they're all chick flicks. And I threw out some possibilities from this mess of chick flicks, and he picked Pride and Predjudice.

And proceeded to very politely try not to laugh as I sighed with every word that came out of Darcy's mouth. Oh, the language. I've always loved the movie You've Got Mail, and they talk about Pride and Prejudice in that one, and how Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks's characters both get swept up in the language of the book. I do too. Both in the book and the movie. The movie's almost better because then I hear it all with the English accents, and oh the English accents! It makes the witty lines so much better. It's not even just about the old English way it's written, but about what they're really saying. The writing is fantastic.

Both Pride and Predjudice(in book or movie form) and You've Got Mail come highly recommended.

love songs

At the wedding I was in this past weekend Phil and I were laughing at the love songs. Messed up, I know. We're just not romantic. We so aren't the type who like typical love songs. Most of the time we think they're cheesy. The whole "had me at hello" stuff? Nuh uh. Not even a little. "I live for you and you alone." No. Sorry, there's other things in our lives. We won't parish from the earth without each other. We love each other, really, we do, but our relationship alone doesn't define us as individuals. We'd live if we didn't have the other one. It'd suck for a while, but we'd live. And we'd find happiness. We just don't fit into love songs.

When we were dancing Phil was talking about when we were younger and we both were in the same youth group. He said one of the girls made a comment something like, "all the guys like Kodi". Now, this was definitely not true, and I know this. But my sweet boyfriend has to point it out by saying that his reaction to that girl at the time was, "hmm, well, I'm a guy, and I don't really like Kodi..."

I'm telling you, only my boyfriend would openly admit that he didn't care for me four years ago. And that is why I love him.

...see what I mean about us not being romantic?

drama

Phil's mom, Kathi, is a drama coach at our church, and she's brilliant.

We always have a play in the summer, and this is the first year in a long time that I wasn't in it. We got split into two different groups this year because there's so many of us, so the college kids did a play for Easter, and the high schooler kids did Kathi's drama on Friday. The one we did at Easter was one Kathi found, but normally she writes everything we do.

She has an incredible gift. She knows each of us kids, and she writes us into everything. Our real personalities shine through in everything, and the skits are witty and always have a biblical message. The shows are always full of laughter...lined with both cheesy and clever humor.

One thing I noticed specifically this year, and I don't know if it's because I was a normal audience member instead of an actor, was how much Kathi really knows about everything. Seriously EVERYTHING. She can relate salvation and following God's plan for your life to complex science theories and cupcakes. She knows about science and baking and boats, not to mention knowing practically every Bible story and how to weave them together into a play called Pair-A-Bulls Cruise Line.

It's occurred to me that that's a big part of what makes someone really good at writing...and writing anything, not just a play. It's knowing lots of different things from lots of different subject areas, and knowing how to pull them together to make something really entertaining and thought-provoking.

Haha...maybe someday I'll be able to do that.

feet

I've found a new love.

I told Phil this early today and he was not nearly as upset as he should of been. Apparently he just knows me well enough to know that my new fascination doesn't effect my love for him. Ruins my fun.

Anyway, this new thing I'm in love with is Dr. Scholl's insoles. They are amazing. My mom has been using them for a while and I never thought much of it, because I don't tend to have feet issues. However, weddings in dress shoes all summer, even if they're flats, have been changing that a bit. I borrowed a set of my mom's insoles and tried them out in my flats...and suddenly they're supportive! It's a miracle! They're comfy for long periods of time and my heels don't get sore anymore.

So, if you've got achy feet, I highly recommend picking up yourself a pair of those wonderful insoles.

aww

At the wedding I went to this weekend I sat at a table with Phil's family, plus his cousin and her husband. His dad and his brother have I think a 15 year age difference, so his cousin is in her late thirties or early forties, not real sure. Somewhere in there.

She's really bubbly and lots of fun, and she said something that made me go all mushy and aw-like. She said she likes whatever I've done to Phil, because she thought he'd said more that day than in all the time she'd known him.

Obviously an exaggeration, but probably not too much of a stretch. I'm dating a quiet guy. Another way we're polar opposites. He's always been talkative with me, but after she said that I've noticed how he really is more talkative just in general. He was talkative at the wedding, and when we went out to BWW, he talked to all my friends. A couple months ago we had a cookout and he was seriously silent for over an hour. He conversed the whole time we were at Wings.

It makes me happy that I'm rubbing off on him. He's rubbing off on me in so many good ways too. :)

geeker

Phil and I got all geeky yesterday again.

He came to visit me after work, and we had plans to meet up with some of my friends for wings at Buffalo Wild Wings. But before hand we went to Barnes and Noble, like we do practically every time he comes to town.

Now, my friend Ray at work has been studying for the GRE. He's kind of brilliant, and I've always enjoyed talking to him because he talks SMART. A lot at work is "so and so got drunk last night and did this stupid thing, and so and so is going to get drunk tonight, thank goodness, or we wouldn't have anything to talk about tomorrow!" And I can only handle so much of that. So I like to talk to Ray, because we talk about school and our futures and traveling, and it's just so much more interesting.

So, GRE. He's going to graduate school for math, so he has to take the math version of the GRE and the general version. So he's been going through his huge calc book, and his goal is to be able to open that book and be able to do any problem without having to review. This is a goal I'd never be able to accomplish(part of that being because I have ZERO ambition with calculus), but there's little doubt in my mind that Ray will. He'll do great on the math GRE.

However, he's also feeling the need to study for the general GRE, in particular, the vocabulary parts. He uses words really well, another reason I enjoy talking to him, but he doesn't have that large of a vocabulary. Which is actually kind of cool, that he can use words that well without using that many of them. But, alas, it doesn't really help him with the GRE, where they have questions like "indolent is to zealous like deft is to ______?", where his reaction is, "ehhh, uhhh, banana?"

To fix this lack of vocabulary, he bought a book made specifically for the GRE full of vocabulary words that he goes through every day, adding ten new words each time. And he had it at work on Monday because it was deathly slow but he need to be there until 11. So as I was leaving I stopped to talk to him like I always do, and thought the book was totally cool.

Okay, now, the difference here is, Ray NEEDS to know more words. He has to to get into grad school. I just think it's cool to know a lot of words. I love language. I get excited when I use words I don't often use. That would be why I am a total geek, and Ray's just a good student. However, I may have called him a geek to make me feel like less of one.

So when Phil and I go into Barnes and Noble, he heads to look for a Russian cookbook and I head to the Standardized Test Study Guide section. And geek out over all the books. I wanted the psych one for the GRE, and I wanted more than one vocab book, and I wanted French vocabulary flash cards, and grammar flash cards, and I just totally geeked out. And finally decided on the English vocabulary cards by SparkNotes, because they were $10 and there's 1000 words and I didn't know the word on the back so I figured it'd be hard enough. Some of them had words like "convince". I wanted it harder than that.

Meanwhile, Phil found a Russian cookbook that even got me excited about the food in it, and found German vocabulary cards just like my English ones when he came to find me. So we head up to the check out with these three things, and as he's checking out the cashier starts TALKING TO HIM IN GERMAN. He asks him how long he's been studying it, and Phil's all taken aback and goes, "uhhh...awhile". And the guy keeps talking in German and Phil keeps answering in English. And my eyes are bugging out thinking the whole thing is totally cool! We found out the cashier's about to graduate from UWGB and is this linguist who knows a bunch of languages. I was sooo excited to see Phil understand another language.

Now that I think about it, this could probably become a trend for us, if we ever travel like we talk about. Phil understanding and talking and me standing there with my eyes bugging out. Oh well, I do all the talking when we're speaking English, he can take the reigns in everything else.

recommendation

Recommendation. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, have a seizure around people who love you. It tends to freak them out a bit.

A couple of days ago I had one. This is something that isn't terribly uncommon for me. By that I mean I've had three in my life. Not a ton, not like I get to have a seizure dog like in My Sister's Keeper to live with me and bark every time I before I have one, which is disappointing, but this isn't the first time I've had one. One in 5th grade, one junior year of high school, and now one more.

I was at a rehearsal dinner for a wedding I was going to shoot the next day. Normally I'm not at the rehearsal dinners but Phil was playing guitar for the ceremony, so he had to be there, and I was invited along with his family. And I didn't want to go because I had cramps from hell all day and just wanted to go home and get better, but for some reason I went anyway(thanks, God). So we get there and they do the rehearsing thing and I'm walking around the backyard where it's being held trying to relieve my cramps and setting up shots in my head for the next day. All is well.

Then we sit down to eat, all scattered about the multi-level porch, and Phil's sitting in a chair and I'm sitting on the edge of the porch in front of him on the highest part of the porch, talking to the groom's mom who's sitting on the edge of a lower part of the porch in front of me. She's asking about certain pictures she wants to get the next day, and all the area around her is getting black and splotchy. And I know what's going to happen, but for some reason feel the need to answer her question and ignore the fact that I'm going to conk out. So I stop for a second and breathe and then respond to her, turn around and look up at Phil and say I'm going to pass out. And then my body goes limp and I fall into his leg.

Now comes the part where I retell what I was told happened.

Apparently Phil thought I just meant that I was tired because I say that sometimes when I'm exhausted, so for the first few seconds he thought I was just leaning on him. And then the seizing part happend and I got all tense and he grabbed my arm and his mind got all, "what do I do what do I do?!?!" His mom asked if I was okay and he responded, "noo!" like it was the most ridiculous question anyone could be asking him in that moment.

And mild panic ensued. Kathi started praying because that's Kathi's default reaction to everything, and Rodney said he rubbed my head because he felt like it was what he should be doing, no idea why. Somebody mentioned calling 911. Had I been conscious I would've said, "no no, no please don't, I'll be fine, this just happens sometimes", but I wasn't, so one of the bridesmaids who happens to be an EMT came running over and started asking Phil questions about if it had happened before and he's all, "yeah, I think so, a couple of years ago, I don't really know if it's the same", because we've never really discussed this in much detail.

Meanwhile I can hear people saying my name while I'm in dreamland and I'm all, oh crap, I had a seizure. I was just talking on the porch like a normal person and now I'm dreaming, I must have had a seizure. Phil said all the sudden I just sat straight up and went, "I'm okay, I just had a seizure, it happens sometimes." And the EMT's all, "Have you been drinking?!" And I'm all, HELLO, I'm at a family function with my boyfriend and his parents, none of whom drink, what do you think?! Only I actually just said no. And then I wanted a nap. I always want naps after seizures, I normally sleep for like 3-4 hours. So the groom's mom let me fall on her bed, and I'm lying there trying to fall asleep and all I can think is that I'm in some woman's bed and I can't even remember her name for sure.

And while I'm thinking this, Rodney came in with some water and I assured him I was okay, and then Kathi came in and squeezed the life out of me and I assured her I was okay, and then I apparently dozed off for a bit because Phil said when he came in I was sleeping. But then I woke up before he came in again and I assured him I was okay. Lots of reassuring happening, and after enough of that I didn't feel too tired and we all got in the car to go home.

Now, my parents were in Utah. Vacationing. So I figured I wouldn't call them and worry them or worry them until they got home, because that's a roaming charge and they can't do anyting from there and no big deal, it happens, I'm alive. Kathi didn't like that too much though, and she sighed and looked at me and said real gently, "I think you should call your mom. If it was my daughter, I'd want to know." Now, Kathi and my mother are complete and total opposites, but I obeyed and called. My stepdad answered and was all, hmm, okay, so you're okay now? Alright, good, we'll see you when we get home. Which is exactly how I knew they'd be and I'm totally okay with that, because it's rational. We're a rational family. Just so long as they know I'm okay, then they're okay.

Kathi and Rodney and Phil aren't quite like that though. Kathi had a bed made for me at their house within the first five minutes of getting back. And I wasn't allowed to drive anywhere. The next morning Phil drove me back to my house to get ready and pack everything for the wedding. He doesn't usually like to drive my car and I knew I was okay, so I was like, "Hey, it's okay, I can drive, you can just come with me and pacify your mother." And he was all, um, no way. You are not driving you are not carrying anything heavier than a feather you are not being left alone for more than the two minutes it takes you to go to the bathroom, and your shower better not exceed five or I'm pounding down the door to make sure you're not seizing again.

All of this was endearing yet annoying. I like my space. It's harder for them because they'd never experienced that before, but to me it's been there, done that, let's get back to life.

By the end of the wedding day they'd been reassured enough that I was capable of driving and sleeping in my house alone. I wanted my own bed and a good night's sleep, and I needed to make sure the house was ready for my parents to get home the next day. You know, put away my coats and shoes that never tend to make it to the closet, make sure there was milk in the fridge. The basics.

Overall though, I am thankful for this second family that loves me nearly as much as my first. It's nice to know you've got back up when you need it.

fireworks

This 4th of July I really, really wanted sparklers. Like, more than I wanted regular fireworks. Which is weird, because regular fireworks are supposed to be way cooler than plain ole little sparklers. I didn't wind up finding any sparklers though, oh well.

I spent Thursday and Friday with my family, on the lake skiing. My cousin was doing some pretty crazy stuff, hop docks(hopping off the dock with one ski on as the boat pulls you) and fly docks(jumping off the dock as the boat pulls you off it with a barefooting suit on and no skis, wrapping your feet around the rope and riding on your butt until you stand up and barefoot) and barefooting. The old timers ski show was coming up, and he had to prove to himself he still had it. He pulled everything off flawlessly. It was so nice to get out there, first time this year, and fireworks on the lake are always better because you can see their reflection in the water.

The actual 4th I was back with the boy, and it was so fun. There was a cookout at his house, and then we went and watched friends play softball(and win!) and came back for a homemade fireworks show. Let me tell you , those boys love fire!

Last night made me thankful for my boyfriend's friends. I love spending time with him, and he's happy and silly and fun when he's with me, but he's got a whole different kind of happy that comes out when he's spending time with his guy friends(and playing with fire) that's important too, and I'm so thankful he has that the same way I have that with my girlfriends.

shy

How is that I, the photographer, wind up dating the person who, as soon as he sees a camera, does this?

whoopsie

Today was pretty much a day of perfection.

I got up and went for my usual bike ride with enough time to get back home and shower and get mildly pretty before my handsome boy got here. We decided to run some errands because he had things he needed to get done and we didn't have much else to do at my townhouse, so we headed to the mall and ate lunch there and got our things done, and then went to Barnes and Noble.

We're so funny when we go to that store, we completely ignore one another. He goes off to his sections, looking at languages books and space books, and I check out the autobiographies, new books, best sellers, any random fiction novel that looks good, fashion stuff...yeah, you get the picture. When one of us is ready to go we find the other, and we leave. I didn't buy anything this time, but Phil bought a book about the history of languages.

We drove home and played soccer for a while, but then the lawn mower guy started mowing the lawn real close to where we were playing, so we took it as a sign to head inside. I wanted to read my book that I had been reading, and Phil wanted to read his, so we decided we were both going to flop out on my bed and read like a cheesy old couple. I was tired though, so I snuggled up to him with my head on his chest thinking I'd stay like that for a couple of minutes and then start reading. Phil decided to read the preface to his book out loud to me, and I wound up falling asleep. Whoopsie. But the nap was so nice! My roommate came upstairs and laughed at us, we're so dorky. But I love it!

He headed home later and I headed to work, and I did well and still got home early. Couldn't ask for anything more!

biking

In honor of swimsuit season, I've decided to become a biker.

Again.

I did this last year, found out that biking was much more enjoyable to me than running. I'm a slow runner, with a short attention span. The scenery doesn't change fast enough for me. Biking, however, I get to see a lot more and cover a greater distance in the same amount of time, even if it's probably not going to help me be all goddess-like in a swimsuit faster. It might not do as much for the lovely layer of winter warmth hiding what really are a set of six-pack abs(ha!), but I will have excellent, excellent legs.

In fact, I feel like it's already making a difference. This may be naive of me, since I've only biked about five times, but if you're some physical therapist person and you know I couldn't have possibly noticed a change, don't you dare burst my bubble. I have to at least pretend I see a difference or I won't keep biking. But my calves really do seem to look a little nicer. They're a bit tanner too, which always helps.

I usually go for my ride between nine and ten in the morning, and I'm starting to notice some regulars who are always out at that time. One nice older lady dressed in one of those jean jackets with like birdhouses sewed on and penny loafers, riding a bike with a regular seat with the peddles parallel to the seat, man in his sixties(?) riding a normal red and yellow bike, both of them moving at a slow but steady pace. A guy who always drives by on his motorcycle. And this one tall, skinny guy.

This tall, skinny guy is, well...I think he's a creeper. I have a mind that always creates the worst possible scenarios and then automatically tries to deny that scenario for something much more favorable. Like, he was walking at ten today, and then again at six thirty when I went for another bike ride. What normal man in his thirties has a job that allows him to walk at those times? And when he sees me, he turns his head and slowly smiles and nods or waves. In a "Hi, I could potentially be a stalker" way. And he wears...well, slightly grungy clothes. All these things make me leary of him. But then my brain automatically goes, well, he could work a wacky night shift that's 11-7 or something. And he could sleep from like, 11 to 6 during the day. Or maybe he works 11-7 during the day and he got off early today or just had the whole day off. And, maybe when he's walking, he's just really relaxed and leisurely, so he moves slowly. And hey, when people are just out for a stroll, they're not going to wear their super shnazzy clothes, now are they? Now are they?!

In this particular situation, however, my brain's first reasoning won out, and I just might let the boyfriend buy me pepper spray. Even though when he first suggested it I told him not to because I'd never carry it, and it'd wind up in some junk drawer, and he'd find it there one day and wind up being all hurt because I wasn't taking my safety seriously. I'm a pretty independent girl, but sometimes, you know, having a little pepper spray might not be a bad thing...

dinner

Tonight my roommate is making dinner for my boyfriend. This is what she does, for birthdays. Which means that my roommate has a birthday gift for my boyfriend before I do.

Um. Uh oh.

In all fairness, he’s impossible. He has expensive tastes, like telescopes and soccer jerseys, which provides a dilemma when I don’t have an expensive budget.

My roommate has been suggesting various dirty gifts, none of which I’m taking seriously. It’s nice of her, though, to help.

I can always fall back on the do-something-creative-and-romantic-and-cheap sort of thing…but my creative juices are apparently on the low end as well. Bah humbug.

He’s insisting that he doesn’t want anything, he doesn’t like that I’m stressing about my lack of possible gifts for him, but really. Who totally doesn’t want a gift? Well. Knowing him, he really would be okay with not getting one. Problem is, I’m not okay with not giving one. It’s one of my favorite things, giving gifts. Just…more enjoyable when I really have something good to give. I was all over it for Christmas. Knew exactly what to get him and knew he’d love it. And he did. This time though…not a clue. And homework bogging me down and clogging my creativity is not helping.

Oh well, I’m getting over it now, and enjoying a lovely dinner. We’re having pork roast, with pecan pie for dessert. Beforehand there will be soccer, and after, just for me, there will be Grey’s. Seriously, I’ve got a guy who will willing watch Grey’s Anatomy with me and I can’t think of a good birthday gift?

…okay, so maybe I’m not getting over it just yet…