Thursday, October 30, 2008

Prince Charming Was A Cowboy, You Know

Did I mention that I don't usually look forward to things because inevitably when I am really really looking forward to something or counting on something, it falls through...

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I keep writing draft posts and never getting back to them... seriously you, I could slap them all in one extended post and see what happens. I don't see that people actually read what I'm writing anyway so it might make for an interesting read one day, maybe today.

I used to LOVE writing. But I only write when things are bothering me. It's safer to write then to actually talk about whats going on in my head, fewer people will think I'm crazy that way. My sister was recently reintroduced to my roller coaster. I thought I'd give my mom a break from my rides and call my sister instead, you know just to mix it up a bit, I wouldn't want anyone to feel neglected or left out here. We went to dinner the other night and I was talking about how maybe I shouldn't have told anyone we went ring shopping and she got this serious look on her face and said I did a complete 360 in the last two weeks. Which is probably true, but I have a lot of time to ponder things that shouldn't be pondered while I'm at work (obviously, I'm blogging here) and I tend to think the worst of things and make little things into big significant catastrophic events, then once I talk about them I realize how incredibly silly I'm being and it's all over, but if I don't talk (or write) about what is bothering me it just gets bigger and bigger until it in no way resembles what the original thought was.

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So sometimes (read: typically) definitely means it might happen... but it doesn't. So generally about the time I get really excited about something and start talking about it like it's a for sure thing, it doesn't happen. So, when I wrote that we are definitely going to buy a house after the first of the year it was tongue in cheek (but if I typed it wouldn't it be keys in screen or something) Now we're talking about just renting for a year... so we'll see what happens there.


We did, on a totally awesome note, go on a surprise trip to the jeweler last weekend. When we left he kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye and smiling, and finally said "You thought I was full of crap, didn't you?"
Of course me being a girl (occasionally I am girly) I couldn't keep that little bit to myself so I told my best friend then my sister and blurted it to my Gram... and the ring (YAY!) is just on layaway, and while we've playfully proposed to eachother at different times we are not officially engaged, so it's not even really for sure either. But, considering her dad told me I wasn't worth a ring, this is a really big thing to me and I'm letting myself be excited.


Bottom line (or middle line, we'll see where this ends up): I have never been in a healthy relationship until I met my love. I tend to seek out worthless boys who I make my project. Historically, these boys don't want to be fixed and it takes me 2 years to realize that, and another year to give up and accept that I have wasted another phase of my life... I have done this twice. Another time it only took a year for the worthless child to turn tail and run, because he knew I was smarter, stronger, and better than him in every conceivable way, and it was just a matter of time before I burried him!

So now, here I am with a man who takes care of things and is so incredibly amazing in every category... he's sexy, he's intelligent, he's responsible, he treats me right, he treats me like a lady without over doing it, he brings me flowers at the most random and unexpected times, he doesn't do drugs, he takes care of his kids (and his parents, which is good and bad), he loves me and he tells me so every single day, he's faithful, he respects me, he accepts me for who I am (tattoos and all), and he wants to spend the rest of his life with me! and the best part is... HE'S REALLY REAL!

So of course I'll find little things to question, because this doesn't happen to me... I must be dreaming... Do I really get a prince, who carries me off into the sunset on the back of his horse, or actually buys me my own horse because I said "I really like that one", and we live happily ever after?!!


(SWEET!)

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

No Bridezilla Here

Sometimes I wish my brain had one of those reader boards. That way I wouldn't have to articulate myself and everyone would just know what I was thinking, except with an NC17 censor that would just flash butterflies and daisy's and noncommittal things when I'm thinking saucy thoughts....

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My love and I are definitely going to buy a house after the first of the year. In discussing this the other day I thought out loud:

"How does that work with taxes. If we're not married how do we both claim the house? We cant exactly file 'Single filing jointly'."

He says, "Well we can get married."

err... [babe, I hope that wasn't you official proposal!]

He has not "officially" proposed... meaning I don't have a ring on my finger to tell the world that I'm finally in a for real relationship and that we are really truly honestly going to get married.

Don't get me wrong, I know we are going to get married. But there is something official about having a ring, that makes it OK to talk about your wedding plans with others. When I tried to broach the subject with a co-worker and my sister they both looked at me with that look that says: "Honey, I don't see a ring on your finger, don't get your heart set yet." But you know what, my heart is set. We talk about it all the time, and while I still feel like I cant tell people we're "engaged", I hate feeling like I can't talk about the plans we're trying to make.

I don't know if I'm up for planning a wedding and buying a house in the same time frame. I don't even know if I want a wedding. After watching my sister plan her wedding I swore I was just going to call everyone from Vegas and make the announcement. But since this is for really happening I'm starting to think that maybe I do want a special day. Not a big elaborate thing where I'm supposed to cry if the centerpieces are the wrong shaped circle and the napkins are imprinted in the wrong corner, but where I can have daisy's in my bouquet whether they are technically weeds or not and I can go barefoot or wear my cowboy boots if that's what I want to do... something simple that we can invite just the people who really matter and they actually come because it's special not just because there's an open bar paid for by my daddy, and it's actually fun and not overwhelming or nit picky or stressful....
[OK, I think just planned my wedding. Call my sister and tell her to make the arrangements, I'll be working my horse :-) ]

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

I May Not Be Girly But I'm Still A Girl!

Oh Drat!
I just finished reading Clever Girl's post "Justify My Love", in her own unknowing way she totally explained what I have been doing for the past week and a half. I over analyze EVERYTHING and it's making my love a little irritated. OK, a lot irritated, and I do believe I've pushed him to the point where I'm going to cause a fight.

I don't quite know how to tell him that I need to hear that he still thinks I'm beautiful... and that he shouldn't tell me I can talk to him then change the subject or, worse, not hear a thing I've said when I do (my love, just because you dont agree or don't understand, doesnt mean I dont need to be heard)... I require one real kiss every day, preferably after I've brushed my teeth just prior to going to bed (the ultimate night cap in my opinion)...and he must cuddle with me. There is no negotiating, if he sleeps in my bed he must cuddle with me at some point during our sleep, be it while falling asleep or during the snooze 15, he must cuddle.

My love is super wonderful in so many ways I can not begin to list them all. He just lacks a bit in the intimacy department which, given his high marks in nearly every other category, I am slowly learning to accept (however, it does build up, occasionally manifesting into crabby time that I can neither control nor rationally explain.)

No one is perfect, and he has been pretty darn close thus far.

So lately he's thinking I'm losing it, obviously he needs to read up on what it's like to have the mind of a girl. He is not very understanding when it comes to things such as these, at least I don't think he is. He tends to laugh it off or just ailenate himself (not really helping in the lack of intamicy department) He better learn quick! He has me, two almost teenagers of his own, and my little girl... the poor guy doesn't stand a chance.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Monkey Learns a Life Lesson

Monkey loves to play dress-up. So, last weekend, when she came to me with her big hazel puppy dog eyes and said "Mommy, can I play dress up? pleasepleaseplease." I knew she was expecting my standard "No", because she has yet to master the skill of getting the dress-up clothes back in the trunk when it's time to clean up. When I said, "Sure, as long as your room is clean." She bounced through the kitchen like I just told her we were going to meet Hannah Montana, which was exactly the response I was hoping for. I love it when she gets excited about little things... I believe that is why she was put on this earth... to make me pull my hair out and fill my heart with joy.

She loves to get dressed up and come out to the living room and pose like she's on a runway. Scarves and purses draped over her arms. Disney Princess dresses, plastic high heels, braclets, sparkling plastic clip on jewels. Pushing a stroller with a stuffed puppy or her Cabbage Patch Baby. She even dresses up her giant Eeyore and Care Bear then hosts tea parties. I LOVE IT!

I'm not girly. I tried to keep up with "princess", and I'm constantly comparing myself to my love's beautiful friends (and trying to smile politely). I like to use my hands, so acryllic nails are totally pointless, my hair wont hold curl and when I get all prettied up I dont feel like me. I never have been one for tights or nylons and dresses and staying out of the mud. I really enjoy spending time getting pretty, but inevitably my hair goes flat in the truck on the way to whatever event made me dare the hot rollers, or if by chance I'm wearing a dress and heels, a horse will escape the barn when we're in the drive way or some other ranch related emergency will transpire and the next thing I know I'll be covered in hay with muddy shoes.... needless to say as long as I have my flat iron, I'm good in jeans and a cute top.


Monkey, on the other hand, is the girliest girl. She loves to play outside with the puppies, but she hates it when they get her dirty (we live on a swamp/ranch so imagine how often she comes in the house wanting to change because one of the puppies jumped on her) She loves tights and dresses and pretty shiny shoes. She loves make-up and frilly things, but she's not so big on pretty hair. The poor girl was cursed with my super fine hair that doesn't hold a curl or a style or even a clip most of the time and, when it's knotty, brushing it feels like someone is pulling your hair out a few at a time. The other day, I was trying to brush a rather sticky knot out, she started crying because it hurt. I told her that sometimes getting pretty hurts and looked up at me and said "Well then I don't want to get pretty, it's no fun!"


She has NO idea!

Thursday, October 2, 2008

A Trip Through The Spaghetti

Happy Random Thursday!
So many things are going on, few of them in any sort of normal context to each other. Just a continuous stream of hodgepodge thoughts flowing through me today...

I learned last night that my cousin is going to be a daddy. I'm really excited for him, he's going to be a GREAT daddy. Part of me has a twinge jealous, because I don't ever get to experience happy baby making... you know, the kind where both people love each other and while they didn't necessarily plan to make a baby they are both delighted and scared but able to share the experience together and it is ultimately a wonderful thing? Yeah, I don't get to do that. And it only recently became apparent to my subconscious that I may want to experience that, but it's just not in the cards. And I think I'm OK with that... or I will keep telling myself that until I'm back in "I definitely don't want to ever be pregnant again" mode.


About a month ago my love and I were sitting in my parent's living room and some where conversation shifted to our kids and how neither one of us get child support, and I said "That's because we both procreated with stupid people." I'm pretty notorious for making offhanded comments such as these. Sometimes they're funny, as in this case (even Dad started laughing), sometimes not so much.

I tend to make a really bad first impression when I meet people. a) because I'm pretty quiet around new people, I don't open up right away and typically need someone I'm oober comfortable around to help through the initial getting to know you stuff, or b) because I'm super chillaxed with close friends and make a one of my offhanded comments that people who know me are so incredibly used to and I end up offending people who don't know me.

I try to be friendly to people I don't know, I'm just not so good at the talking to strangers anymore. I don't know what happened but somewhere in my early 20's I developed this social awkwardness that I cant seem to shake. This awkwardness has turned me into a bit of a homebody again. I'm thinking semi-drastic measures may be necessary... seriously!

A girl at the bar once told a friend of mine that I look mean! That was her first impression. I didn't even have the chance to be sarcastic, or behave in that sometimes crude, "guy" way that most of the time is OK, but occasionally annoys my love to pieces. Without me so much as uttering a word in her direction, I honestly hadn't even noticed her, she looked at me and decided I was mean...? I'm sorry but WTF? I don't have the Gothic thing going, I'm just an average chick in a t-shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots... Is it my tattoos? Is it my face? What is it about me that would make a person assume that I am mean based soley on my looks?

... Note To Self: Don't assume that girl is a beeotch just because she passed judgement on you. Maybe she's really nice, like you are, and there is actually a reason that she knows your friend well enough to tell him that you look mean.... (eh... or not!)

I believe what you've just read is a perfect example of what I lovingly refer to as Spaghetti Brain.

So, I'm really excited about tonight. We never go out anymore and we are venturing out to see Jake Owen...SWEET! I love live music, especially at the bar because it feels so much more personal than in a big arena or festival. Plus, my Sis and her hubby are going with us, which is cause for excitement in itself because they never go out. So YAY!

cheers!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

The Oysters Were Curious Too

I am curious, I am excited. Where is this blog going to go? Will people actually read it? What will I get from it? What will others take from it? If no one reads it will I stop posting to it? I have been browsing blogs for some time, because I have a desk job which actually allows for such things, and I was surprised to see how LONG this phenomenon has been going on.
How does a new blog attract a following? And does that even matter to me... not really. I just want a place to put my thoughts, share funny things that I find or thing that I find funny, and stretch my imaginative muscles again. I love to write, it's always been an escape for me. One of my college instructors pushed brevity in my assignments which in turn tuned out of my creative rhelm. After that I started strictly journaling. I'd like to get back to that creative side and I think that blogging will help. So if you happen upon this page, please just let me know you were here. Offer up your thoughts on these conversations with myself... please interrupt if you would :o)

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