Sunday, July 29, 2007

This and that

While I am staying at my parents' house, I have limited access to the internets, and I don't want to lose my job for posting in a blog while I am work, so I sneak in some blogging when I can at my friend's house. I don't even know what to mention now; so much has happened since I posted last.

Last week we (Jodi, Heather, Ben and Ann, and my parents) drove to Jodi's parents' house in Arkansas for a shopping weekend/welcome Ben home kind of ordeal. In that time I also picked up my future brother-in-law and met my future mother-in-law.

Jodi's family warned me about my MIL before I met her. I have a tendency to form opinions based on what people tell me right away, but this time I was careful and decided to wait until I met her for myself. She's very very different from them, and sometimes people see that as a bad thing, but she seemed like a pretty cool woman to me. I am hoping to spend more time with her as Mat and I get ready for the wedding, but you never know.

So! I spent the majority of the weekend with my future brother-in-law, Monroe, who took it upon himself to be Mat's stand-in. I stayed up almost all night Friday night with Mon talking about God knows what, and it was like talking to Mat all over again, which made me miss Mat a million times more, but I'll get over it. I got about three hours of sleep the entire weekend because once everyone went to bed, Mon and I went out onto the back deck and hung out. He opened up to me, and he was kind to me, and ... I don't know. Everyone made that seem like it was a BIG! ORDEAL! that he didn't hang out on the computer all weekend, but instead he socialized. I don't see anything different about it at all - most people are at ease with me.

I am so freaking tired and nothing I am saying is witty or funny, so I am just dumping out everything I can think of at this minute.

I am three weeks away from seeing Mat. Actually, if you want to get all technical-like, I am 20 days away from seeing him (almost 19). I am practically vibrating with excitement, and I don't know how crazy I am going to be the next few weeks. I want them to fly by and then slow the hell down once I get there. I have never been more eager to kiss someone than I am to kiss Mat right now.

In other news, my friend Jodi's husband might be going overseas, which is really sad.

Bed time!

Monday, July 16, 2007

Maybe baby

Texting today with Mat:

Me: not good at doctor's office. talk later? not pregnant so don't freak about that.

Him: i don't like the sound of that.

Me: well i am not going to die or anything super bad like an std.

Him: good cause i don't like stds.

Me: really? you wouldn't even want herpes?

Him: no but aids would be okay.

Me: damn. can't help you there. hiv?

Him: that's a start.

Me: Oh good. saw lifetime movie about this. now i need to sleep with a football player that has unprotected sex and uses iv drugs.

Him: sounds like a winner!

Today I visited the doctor. I haven't had a real doctor's visit in about five years, so this was a big ordeal for me. I walked in feeling normal, and I walked out with a ton of pamphlets about infertility and polycystic ovarian disease.

I am trying to not freak out. Lots of women have PCOS. Lot's of women get pregnant even after their diagnosis. It's not the end of the world. It's just all the ... added talk. The warning me. The holding my knee and saying, "Hey, medicine advances every day, there are fertility drugs out there." "As soon as your blood work comes back and we know just how badly your hormones are out of whack, we can get started." "You just don't ovulate. It looks like you never really did. How you got pregnant before is a good sign for you, but I'm amazed it happened."

In the car, before I could drive home, I cried big heaping sobs. I couldn't help it. I feel so dramatic and weird about all of it. I could just see the mountain Mat and I will have to climb to have a child, if Mat will even climb with me. What if he ran at the news?

I texted him after I wiped my face off. The conversation left me laughing in the middle of rush hour traffic, but I still dreaded telling him everything.

He called as soon as he got off work, and as we talked, I could feel the anxiety building in my chest, I waited for the part where he said, "I didn't sign on for this, I can't, I'm sorry."

Instead he said, "We'll get through this. We'll have fun trying, and we'll do this. And if we don't? We'll figure it out." All of the we's. We. We. We.

I breathed a hugh sigh of relief, and I said, "All I wanted to hear all day was you saying 'we'."

"This doesn't make me love you any less. In fact, I think I love you a little more."

I have never wanted to hug someone over the phone as much as I wanted to hug that man.

I have never had anything go right the first time. In fact, while my life has been kind of boring, at the same time, plans never work for me. Nothing very good ever happens to me, and I keep waiting ... waiting for something to make this not happen either. I don't know when I'll finally let go, when I'll finally take a deep breath and let it all out, and realize that this man? Loves me more than anyone I've ever met.

"Be ready for the start of amazing things. Things are about to go great for you, and I get to be there for all of it."

Why on earth would I doubt someone that says that to me?

Labels: , ,

Saturday, July 14, 2007


Tonight I took my wedding dress home. For the past few weeks, it has been staying at my matron of honor's house because she has never had pets in her house, and I figured it would be the safest place for it.

But tonight I got my feelings hurt. I left, ran a quick errand, and then I drove back to her house, walked in while everyone was still talking, took the dress out of the closet, and I came home.

One of the things that you should know is that I grew up in a household where we joke around. Not only do we joke around, but picking on the ones you love is a way of life. Everyone does it, and the friends that I grew up with do the same. You never get to let anything die down, jokes are told and retold and then explained to new comers so that they can also joke with you. I don't know how many jokes have about people ("I just think it's funny that I'm the only one ...") have come out of someone's mouth that wasn't even present for when the incident happened.

What's even funnier is hanging out with my parents and their friends (who are the parents of my friends now) is that they do the same. They tease and they kid and they play around, and then at the end of the night, everyone goes home with stories and jokes and something new to tease someone else the next time they see them.

So, this is what we all do.

But somehow lately I have gotten the label as the bitch. And even though we all sit around and joke, now I'm the bad guy, I'm the one that does it the most, I'm the one ... blah blah blah. And tonight, as we all sat around teasing each other like we normally do, suddenly I became the Bad Guy.

Bad enough to have a Facebook group in my honor - a support group of people that apparently I've made fun of.

Now ... did I take it too far in my anger by leaving? What do you do in that situation? And not only that, but for the past few weeks, I have been reminded on pretty much a daily basis that my friends think I'm kind of a bitch. I don't know how many times I've had to say, "then why are you friends with me again, if you think I'm so horrible?"

And then to make a group that points out even more that you think I'm horrible? I couldn't sit there.

And I cried the whole way home, because two of those people are supposed to stand next to me at my wedding, because I thought they loved me. I thought they supported me, and I thought they were there for me, and I think of these girls like sisters, and I would never intentionally hurt any of their feelings, but tonight they were clustered over a laptop making a facebook group about me (with an incredibly unflattering photograph), and I just felt it got taken too far.

I mean, they do it too. Where is their facebook group?

I think I am just being sensitive, but at this moment, I'm hurt. I'm hurt, and I feel like I'm in fucking high school that I'm hurt over a group on a stupid internet site that doesn't even matter.

And I don't even know why I took the dress home. To prove a point? I don't know. Right now it is hanging in the spare bedroom closet, and as soon as my grandmother gets home from her trip it's going to her house, but I don't even know why I grabbed it. I don't know why I went back, and I am sure after I went back everyone talked about how I am a drama queen, but ... I just didn't want my dress over there. You think I'm a bitch and you're going to make a fucking group about me, then you don't get to have my wedding dress.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

The things you do.

I am sitting here waiting for Mat to get off of work so that I can have my weekly hour long conversation with him, and while I am waiting, I am attempting to whiten my teeth. I am talking with a horrible lisp while the gunk sets on my teeth, and I just feel nasty, and why couldn't I have been born with gorgeous white teeth to begin with?

One of the only reasons why I am doing this is because I am scared that I won't meet Mat's friends' expectations when I meet them in August. Now, I love and trust Mat, and I know that he wouldn't break off of our engagement because of some yellowish teeth, but ... in my crazy mind he would. Also on the list to take care of before I leave include waxing my eyebrows (they are like a forest) and dousing my face in cleanser to get rid of the acne.

This is why I hate myspace. If it weren't for myspace, I wouldn't have just wasted an hour of my night clicking all around, seeing pictures of his ex-girlfriends and of his friends' girlfriends with their size 0 bodies and gorgeous, shiny model perfect hair. Today my hair actually captured a small woodland creature in my frizz halo before I could step in the door at work, and my clothing size has a 0 in it alright, but along with another number.

How do you maintain your self-esteem? Outside of a relationship I'm very confident. I think I'm hilarious. I'm intelligent. I'm caring. I'm knowledgeable. Before I start dating someone, I assume that every guy would be very lucky to have me. But as soon as he does, I freak out, and the next thing you know I've spent 2 hours glaring at my pores while my tongue burns from the teeth whitening cream, wondering how on earth I am going to convince his friends that I am worthy of him.

How do you convince yourself that you're worth moving across the country for? He is giving up so much to come here, can't the least I do for him is whiten my teeth? Why am I suddenly obsessed with my teeth? Oh my god, I'm crazy aren't I? Now I'm just rambling.

This blog post has no relevance. None. Not one bit. I just felt like I should type something, so this is what I'm typing about. Tomorrow maybe I'll discuss how insecure I felt while shaving my stubborn, thick leg hair with a man's razor.

Monday, July 02, 2007


364 days ago, I was in love.

I was in love with this man named Gregg. Before him, I never thought I was in love with Jon, and even though Jon was an ass, I put up with him anyway. And because he was an ass, I thought I was in love with Gregg - a man who wasn't ashamed to hold my hand in public, who would absentmindly rub my back while we watched Saturday Night Live, who loved nothing more to sit in coffeeshops with me on Friday nights and watch the cars drive up and down 71st street in Tulsa.

I opened up to Gregg. I told him everything about me, and I never held back. Any emotions I was feeling, any thoughts that I had, I shared with him because that's what I thought you did when you were in love. I have been taught to always be open, never let the person you're with stumble upon a nasty surprise, and I wanted Gregg to never have any surprises.

Because I did this, opened up, showed him everything I had, let him pick at my brain and my heart, take me apart like the engineer he was, so that he could see how I worked - this is why 365 days ago, I had my heart broken.

Like any cheesy romantic movie where the heroine goes through a breakup, I curled up in bed, refusing to come out. I cried until I was dehydrated. I cried until I threw up. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore, and then my shoulders just heaved with sobs.

(It is kind of embarrassing to think about how crushed I was then).

My friends, two girls that I have known since before they took their first steps, and my brother's wife crawled into bed with me, each one sitting on a corner. They took turns trying to cheer me up, coax me out of my cave, to help me see that it wasn't the end of the world.

I finally got up, got dressed, and I shot off some fireworks, then promptly got back into bed.

If you had told me 365 days ago that in 365 days I would be estatic, I would have punched you in the ovaries. It's hard being someone who is always open. I never doubt that the person left me because he just didn't KNOW me, didn't know who I was. Instead, I always doubt that I told too much. I was afraid that I would never find anyone who would take everything about me, all of the bad and the good, and still look at me and say, "Man, I love this woman."

"Gah, she has horrible mood swings when she's PMSing. GOD, I love this woman."

"She fights dirty and yells and slams the door when she's angry. MAN, could I love her anymore than I do right now?"

"Sometimes she's insecure, but I want to be with her for the rest of my life."

Once Gregg and I were driving to his mom's house. I don't even remember the conversation, only that part way through it he said something silly, and I ruffled his hair and said, "Awww, thank goodness you're pretty." He laughed it off, but that was something that he threw back in my face when he was leaving me.

When Mat was here a month ago, he said something stupid as well, and instinctively I reached out, ruffled his brown hair, and said, "That's why God made you so pretty, Mat."

For a second I paused, realizing what I had said.

Mat turned to me, winked, and in a high pitched voice said, "Why yes, I AM very pretty, thank you for noticing."

Then he leaned over, kissed me on the cheek and said, "Comments like those? That's one of the reasons why I love you."

Labels: , ,

Sunday, July 01, 2007

48 Days.


That's how many days until I visit with Mat.

I feel like I should probably blog this experience - this engagement, these months leading up the wedding, to the marriage, to the beginning of my life with someone. I don't even know where to begin, except at the beginning.

I met Mat when I was 11 and he was 10. This is just an estimate - when you've known someone since before you hit puberty, things get fuzzy. We're assuming we met in 1992. We're basing our assumption off of this -- in 1994, he went to summer camp with me, and we already knew each other by then. And we know that our first summer camp together was in 1994 because we shared a schoolbus seat together, our heads smashed up against each other as we listened to my brand! new! Crash Test Dummies tape, laughing at the dirty lyrics to "Swimming in Your Ocean":

When I kneel before you bounty
Sometimes I wonder if there could be really
UFO's that come from other planets

And when you let me taste your fingers
I take them like fruit and as I linger
I Wonder if my seed will find purchase in your soil...

Did I mention that our first camp together was a church camp? And that we weren't allowed to have music, but I smuggled it on the bus anyway?

Things about that week are dim. I remember he followed me and my best friend Sarah around everywhere, that he would introduce himself as "Doormat" and at one point he told us that he was "3/4 mature".

I remember his baby brother before the kid could walk - he turns 16 this month. I was with them when they had a family photo done when Monore was 3 (making me 14). We were at Sears, and he and his two brothers along with their cousins Jodi and Jeremy (two of my closest friends growing up) and I were hanging out, and I was holding Monroe, and he shoved his face between my breasts and shook his head.

That's still a joke with all of us.

After that though ... summers meant Mat came to visit. It would mean hanging out at Jodi and Jeremy's house at night while the adults played volleyball, and we sat on a porch swing and would talk for hours.

Then we graduated high school. Mat joined the army, and I stayed here to be with Joe.

And then Mat got very involved with a girl named Yvette, and about the same time I got pregnant, Yvette broke their engagement.

I don't remember much about this one evening - it was not long after I lost the baby, right before Jeremy and Jodi's parents moved to Arkansas. Mat and I stayed up the entire night, sitting on the same porch swing that we had sat on for all those years before, and he let me cry. He let me cry, and he let me yell, and he let me feel beat down and torn up and he just ... listened. He held me, and he was there for me in a way that no one else had attempted to be there for me, because no one in my life knew me and understood me like Mat did (and does).

And then I did the same for him. And the two of us, broken hearted, beaten down, already feeling worn out and barely in our early 20s, we had no idea what was going to happen to us, how things were going to evolve.

I left that morning crazy in love with Mat. And I promptly shoved all of that way down, buried deep as far as it would go because he lived in Seattle, and I lived here, and there was no way. I was scared, and he was scared, and when I left that night I felt like I was leaving a huge chunk of me behind.

Once that evening was done, our conversations grew more spaced out. We would go months without talking to each other, and we very rarely saw each other. He met another girl, and he eventually moved in with her, and he had a relationship with her for 2-1/2 years. I met Jon, and I went through all of that crap with him.

The last time I saw him before this past month was at Jodi's wedding. I was with Jon at the time, and he was with the other girl, and we were both in these miserable relationships, we hated where we were in our lives. I saw him for 10 minutes, hugged him, and I drove home wishing. I went back to the tiny studio apartment I shared with Jon at the time, took off my bridesmaid dress, took the pins out of my hair, and I crawled into bed and curled up next to Jon and cried.

I told him it was because I was happy for Jodi.

Then I quit answering Mat's phone calls. I would answer occassionally, and I would find myself sucked into a three hour conversation with him, and we would laugh and swap stories and have a blast, and I shut everything down, each time, and for a split second I wanted to find a way to see him. Jodi and I planned numerous trips out to see him, and I would always back out.

In March? Maybe April? Jodi's family planned a family reunion, and they bought Mat a plane ticket as a birthday present. And in the weeks leading up to before Mat came down, he would call every day, sometimes twice a day, sometimes three times a day, to talk. I wouldn't answer, because I couldn't do it.

I haven't been in a good place lately. Things with Jon, with Gregg, with everything, where you stop and you wonder what the hell you're doing in life, all of those questions was getting to be too much for me. I had all of these thoughts bouncing around in my head, all of these issues, and I just didn't want to talk.

But one time I did answer the phone, and I agreed to see him one night while he was here - Saturday night.

That Saturday he called me at least 5 times, making sure I would see him. And as the time got closer to see him, I was thinking of excuses not to go. When we finally nailed down plans to meet up at his grandmother's (Nanny, as she will forever and always be), I still didn't want to go, but in the end I went. I sat at the edge of the pool while he swam with his family for a few minutes, then he hopped out of the pool, pulled me over to the table, and he and I shoved two lawn chairs up against each other, and we talked.

As everyone was starting to get sleepy, he and I were just gearing up for one our marathon conversations, and we decided to go to a bar to get a drink, something that we had never done before but always joked that we would.

I should pause for a second here to tell you a sidenote - before when Mat would visit, we did this often. We would pick up and leave - go to the mall, the park, McDonalds, whatever. We always left everyone behind for awhile, and even when we were younger before we could drive, we would run off to the woods behind his aunt's house and talk. Us leaving that night was nothing new to his family.

Later, after we announced the engagement, the people at the pool that night - Jodi, Jeremy and his wife Jennie, Michael and Monroe his brothers, they said they knew. They said that when we were sitting there talking in the chairs, and I didn't move when his wet swim trunks were smashed against my leg, they said they knew. They knew that this time it would be different.

We didn't realize it though, I guess. It WAS the first time in the history of our friendship since we were of dating age that we were both single.

Oh, so we drive to Tulsa to go to a bar, which is 45 minutes away, when there are bars in Muskogee. We talked the entire way. I wore my hair down, and he was playing with the ends of my hair as his arm rested against my chair, and at one point I looked down and my hair was wrapped all through his fingers, in one big tangled mess.

At the bar, we found a table at the back, and even though the music wasn't too loud, we were again smashed up against each other, and it was then that I thought ... "Maybe ... "

When the bar closed, we drove back to his grandmother's house, and we sat in her driveway and chatted, again. And we reclined the seats all the way back, kicked our feet up on the dashboard, and kept talking, always talking. We did this for 3 hours, watching the sky lighten, and I thought it would never happen, that I was dreaming it.

Until ... I pointed out the moon, how it was still up, just outside my car window. He leaned over me to see it, and I looked down for a second, just as he was looking up, and we kissed.

When we pulled apart, he said, "Was that weird? Is it weird to be kissing me?"

"No, surprisingly it's not weird. I kept thinking in my head, oh my god, I just kissed Doormat! but it's not weird."

"It's not weird to me either."

And we kept kissing. We went back to the house where I staying, and we kissed some more, until it was officially morning. We made plans for that evening, to see each other again, to kiss some more.

I'll speed up here - he didn't see me on Sunday until 11pm. We talked even more, for two hours, until we kissed again, then made love. I figured he would leave afterwards, but he didn't. We sat on the front porch, talked about what we wanted in our futures, how we wanted things to go, how we dated people completely wrong for us, but we did it anyway.

"If I moved back, would you date me?" turned into, "When I move back, will you elope with me?"

"If you knew me like you said you did, you would know I want a wedding. I want one day with some attention on me."

"Then when I move back, we can have a wedding."

"Uhm ... did you just propose to me?"

"I think I did just propose to you."

My heart stopped beating, I swear. It stopped, frozen for a split second. Here's what I thought I wanted, here's the person that knows every thing I've ever done, things that no other friend knows about me. He was there for me when other people couldn't or wouldn't or just didn't have time. He knows all of the dark and twisty parts of my life, and he never judged me, and the same goes for me. I knew all of the bad stuff about him, how there are years in his life he wish didn't exist.

I only paused for a second. "I think I just said yes, then."

His face broke out into a gigantic smile, and he kissed me. For the next two hours, as for the second day in a row we watched the sun rise, we talked about how to tell our families, when we wanted to actually have the wedding, who we would invite.

"We're really going to do this?"

"Yes, we're really getting married."

"So ... does this mean you love me?"

He laughed at that question. Who proposes before they love someone? He kissed me and said, "I've always loved you, ever since I was a doormat and 3/4 mature."

Labels: , ,