If you haven't heard Taylor Swift's song "Safe and Sound" from The Hunger Games soundtrack, you should most definitely look into it. It's not even very Taylor-Swift-y (if you aren't a fan of her). It's just beautiful. I can just picture Katniss singing it to Prim.
My heart is heavy. I thought I'd be hanging out with two of my most favorite people this weekend, but as luck would have it, I won't be. And that is stupid. But, like everyone else, I just keep thinking there HAS to be a reason their car broke down so far away. Something divine needed them to be in Minnessota or not in Louisiana/Arkansas this weekend. The good news is I've just made my priorities list for my 2012 tax return, and a plane ticket to St. Paul is #1 on that list. Now I just have to wait paitently for LSU to send me that slip of paper so I can file. Steph and Charlie, I'm coming for you whether you like it or not!
In case you're wondering what else is on that list (which, obviously, you're on pins and needles waiting to hear), #2 is to have my fuzzy Batman's yucky teeth cleaned, #3 is a weekend pass to Jazz Fest to see John Mayer AND THE BEACH BOYS and Trombone Shorty all in one glorious place (that is, if I can get someone to go with me [ahem,Bethany]), and if by some miracle I have enough money left, I'll buy a ticket to The Hangout (once the lineup is released).
Tonight, I'll get together with my ladies and drink wine and watch Bridemaids and eat cauliflower-crusted pizza and cry about how Stephanie's not here.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
I'm your girl, and you're my man.
I know I haven't blogged in about a million years, and I'm sorry (as usual). Today I just cannot get into work. I'm surfing Pinterest, Perez, Facebook, etc., all in an attempt to avoid this stack of paperwork. (Don't tell my boss/mom.) I think I'm simply too excited about tonight. You see, tonight I have a date...with my boyfriend...who I haven't seen since driving halfway to Grand Isle to bring him something at work on Christmas night. He's a good guy, and he didn't want a man with kids to have to work during the holidays when he could be spending time with his family. Plus, he makes crazy good money for holidays/overtime. But mostly, he's just a good guy. And he made the committment before we were officially dating, so I'm not mad. Heck, I wouldn't be either way. Did I mention how good of a guy he is?
I promise I won't gush so much about him in the future. I just thought I'd take one blog post to address the situation, since for so long it wasn't much of one.
It was really important for me to let him take his time. I've learned from personal experiences as well as those of people I'm close to that convincing someone they want to be with you ALWAYS turns out poorly, even if it's 30 years down the road. The point is, I'd been on dates with other guys, good guys, but none of them were him. I wanted to be patient, so for once in my life I was. And if I could remember all the things he told me while we were having "that" conversation (one he brought up all on his own, mind you), I would gush about those things because they were pretty much exactly the things I dreamt I'd never hear come out of his mouth. I just kept wishing I had a recorder to capture it all. Had it not been 6am after an all-nighter with friends, I probably would have cried.
I'm extremely happy to be in the position we are now. Yes, he's gone a lot for work, but luckily for me, I like my alone time A LOT. (Not quite a fan of him working two weeks in a row, though, I'm finding.) It's important for me to let everyone know, however, that I'm still very scared. I've learned to not expect anything to last forever, and I'm happy living in the moment. If I could have any wish come true at this moment, I wouldn't be wishing for wedding gowns or babies, but happiness. So if you guys love me (which I know you do), pleasepleaseplease don't ask me anything about any of that other stuff. It makes me anxious and, frankly, freaks me out a little bit right now. If that's in my future, I'll be happy to welcome it, but until the RIGHT time comes, I just want to be happy.
And I love you all SO much. (And I really wish Stephanie were here so we could talk about all this mushy stuff in person.)
I promise I won't gush so much about him in the future. I just thought I'd take one blog post to address the situation, since for so long it wasn't much of one.
It was really important for me to let him take his time. I've learned from personal experiences as well as those of people I'm close to that convincing someone they want to be with you ALWAYS turns out poorly, even if it's 30 years down the road. The point is, I'd been on dates with other guys, good guys, but none of them were him. I wanted to be patient, so for once in my life I was. And if I could remember all the things he told me while we were having "that" conversation (one he brought up all on his own, mind you), I would gush about those things because they were pretty much exactly the things I dreamt I'd never hear come out of his mouth. I just kept wishing I had a recorder to capture it all. Had it not been 6am after an all-nighter with friends, I probably would have cried.
I'm extremely happy to be in the position we are now. Yes, he's gone a lot for work, but luckily for me, I like my alone time A LOT. (Not quite a fan of him working two weeks in a row, though, I'm finding.) It's important for me to let everyone know, however, that I'm still very scared. I've learned to not expect anything to last forever, and I'm happy living in the moment. If I could have any wish come true at this moment, I wouldn't be wishing for wedding gowns or babies, but happiness. So if you guys love me (which I know you do), pleasepleaseplease don't ask me anything about any of that other stuff. It makes me anxious and, frankly, freaks me out a little bit right now. If that's in my future, I'll be happy to welcome it, but until the RIGHT time comes, I just want to be happy.
And I love you all SO much. (And I really wish Stephanie were here so we could talk about all this mushy stuff in person.)
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