Facing The New Year

Well, tomorrow will round out the end of our first week of being engaged.

Today I went to Tai Pan Trading with my mother, and while I promised myself I wasn't going to start planning anything until next week (basically just starting the guest list), I suddenly felt the wedding wheels turning, and looking at possibilities for decorations and centerpieces began to make me feel overwhelmed and agitated.  I started sweating, and feeling like I had bitten off a lot more than I could ever chew, and I have a really big mouth.

Long story short, I had a mini freak out in the middle of a wholesale home decor store, and promptly had to leave.

Driving home I felt like I was suffocating as I was navigating through the torrential rain.  Am I ready for this?  Do I want to get married?  Am I sure I'm right about all of this?  How am I going to pull this off?

All valid concerns.  They bubbled up off and on all afternoon.  Finally I just had to take off my ring because it suddenly felt like it weighed a ton.  It's currently sitting right next to my computer.  Mocking me with its adorableness and sparkle.  Sitting there.  A symbol of the man I love's love for me.  A symbol of my future as a wife.  A symbol of.....my loss of control over the situation.

It's shining proof that there is one person in this world who I have not managed to keep at arm's length.  I let him in.  I let him see me for what I am, and now when I'm with him I feel naked.  He's trying to make me feel safe, and I know he loves me, but that insecurity hasn't gone away.  It's still there, and I'm trusting him to protect me.

It's terrifying to feel like this.  Precarious, exposed, daunted.

I'm going to swallow all of this down though.  Starting January 1, I'm going to just plug away, and I'm going to figure this out.  I'm going to start planning my wedding.  Our wedding, and I'm going to do masterfully well.  I will marry the love of my life in May, and we are going to begin our life together.

I just have to tell the little broken girl in my head to shut up and stop worrying.

To 2011.  May I be a much stronger, better me.

Keep it real readers.

Engagement: Week 1

Well, after the initial shock wore off from getting engaged, I started to get really excited.  Christmas morning was awesome, we had aebelskivers (ball-shaped pancake type breakfast food from Scandinavia.  Very delicious.) with bacon and sausage for breakfast, followed by opening gifts in an orderly manner as per usual.

Life was good.  I got new pants, a wedding planning workbook, along with some other things I needed.  It was a good Christmas indeed.  Then, after being unable to sleep all night, I crashed on the couch in front of "A Christmas Story," only to be greeted by some really disturbing dreams.  I woke up a few hours later feeling awful.  I was anxious, still incredulous, scared, excited, sad, and self-conscious all at the same time.  I went in my room to lay down, when suddenly all these feelings started to bubble up physically.  I felt incredibly nauseous.  More than I've ever felt in my entire life.  Being a logical thinker, and not wanting to clean up any sort of disgusting mess later, I meandered down the hall into the bathroom and closed the door.  I then quietly sat down on the edge of the bathtub, leaned over the toilet, and threw up for all I was worth.  Then I realized the gravity of what was happening in my life, and how I felt so lost and unprepared, and I proceeded to heave all over again.

After a few more minutes of dry heaving, I finally decided I was done.  I felt relieved.  I was exhausted, and at that point I couldn't think anymore.  I slept through my family's trip to the movies, and after they returned I joined them for a few bites of food before having to change because I was going out with Skyler to show some of his friends I hadn't met yet A) Who I was, and B) The ring.

I'd never done anything like that before.  Throw up like that.  It was weird indeed.

I felt pretty out of it the next morning, but I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower and got to church a few minutes late.  I managed to show off my ring to as many friends as I could before I decided it was time to go home.

Monday was considerably better.  I got to go back to work and show my coworkers and customers my sparkly Christmas gift, which made me feel excited all over again.

I'm still excited.  It's just going to be an interesting next few months.

You know I'll keep you posted.

But in the meantime readers, keep it real.

Wow, What A Christmas Eve.

Well readers, this is my 60th blog posting, and what better way to start it off than by letting you all know that

I GOT ENGAGED!

That's right readers.  Skyler asked me to marry him tonight.  I was completely shocked, and for the first time I was rendered speechless.  I couldn't say anything for almost 10 minutes, I just giggled and hyperventilated and nodded yes.

After the excitement died down, I got to go home with my new fiance, where I learned how this whole epic event was kept under wraps from me.

I.  The Permission.

Skyler came to my parents last night while I was at work for two reasons:  To drop off my sparring gear (a gift from my parents for Christmas that I needed for karate), and to ask my parents' permission to marry me.  In exchange, they received 10 cow-related gifts.  So yeah, I'll be a 10 cow wife. :)

II.  The Deception.

While at work, I kept flirting over text with Sky.  At one point I said I wished he could find a new job soon because I didn't know how much longer I could go without being his wife.  To that, he sounded crushed and demoralized.  Feeling dejected, I told him I wouldn't talk about marriage again.

After returning home from work I was greeted to a host of sarcasm from my family, saying how unsociable my boyfriend was, how he only stayed for a few seconds, and how he was not friendly at all.  I told them he must have been under some sort of stress because that didn't sound like him at all.

III.  The Suspense.

Sky was excited for Christmas.  His Facebook profile said so.  I mentioned that this Christmas was going to be better than usual, to which he replied with an angst-ridden "Why do you say that?"  Perplexed, I merely mentioned he had a sweet somebody to cuddle this year as opposed to previous years, and he seemed to return to his normal self at that answer.

We both had to work, but we got off at the same time and met at his grandmother's house for dinner and gifts.    After which I headed home to drop off my car and change my clothes, and he picked me up shortly thereafter.

IV.  The Prestige.

We stopped at a house near one of our friend's homes to see a house that had been fabulously decorated for the holiday before heading to his house for more presents and fun with his family.  We drove up, hopped out of the car, and headed in.  Oddly enough, he yelled "Hello?" upon entering, but I didn't think anything of it.

We headed down the stairs and into the family room where they had all the gifts under the tree, and we started talking and carrying on until Sky's sister and her family finally joined us, and we started opening presents.  I got a robe from Sky's parents, a jacket and an amazing DC Comics history book from Sky, some body spray from Sky's sister, a necklace from Sky's other sister, an Optimus Prime action figure from my future niece and nephew, and finally, another Optimus Prime action figure that actually transformed.  Upon receiving that last present, he snatched it out of my hands, announcing he wanted to play with it.

*Side note:  There is a running joke between Skyler and I that if Optimus Prime were real, I would run away with him.  I have a huge robo-crush on him.

V.  The Event.

After fumbling with it for a few minutes, he started wondering what was wrong with it that it wouldn't transform.  Finally he said, "Oh, there's something caught in it."  With that, I watched him pull something shiny out from its chest, grab my hand with his shaking one, and slide a ring on my finger.  "Karen Curl, will you marry me?" he said with a huge grin on his face.

I'm pretty sure my heart stopped beating for a second.  I couldn't breathe.  Everything went blurry.  I just started gasping for air.  Then I started to giggle awkwardly between gasps.  Completely at a loss for words, I nodded and hugged Skyler, and everyone told me to turn around, where I was met by my entire family.

The gasping and giggling continued for a little while longer while I tried to compose myself and wipe away a tear as I hugged my parents.

It's official.  He's going to marry me. :)

I'm so happy.  I can safely say this is the best Christmas Eve ever.

Keep it real readers.

Love Changes Everything.

Tonight Sky told me someone gave him props for dating me, and that he's a lucky guy for getting the funniest girl in the singles' ward.  I have to admit that made me laugh a little, and furthermore, blush to four shades of red.  I don't usually hear compliments said about me behind my back, and I have to admit it was nice to hear.

What people don't realize is that I started being funny when I was about 11 because I thought I was ugly, and I thought if I couldn't be pretty, I was going to be funny so that people would like me.  Maybe part of me still feels that way, because now I can't really break the habit, and frankly it's easier to laugh than it is to actually have a serious moment.  In fact, if I could, I would make a joke about every sad, bad, or serious thing on the planet to avoid actually feeling the gravity of the subject.

Oh the irony of my life.

I find myself in a new place in my life.  For the better part of my life, I've been two completely different people simultaneously.  There's who I am in public and around people, and then there's who I am when I'm alone.  My public version of myself was upbeat and silly and loud and funny.  It was my single greatest illusion I've ever constructed, because the contrasting version of me was far too shameful.  I was horribly depressed. I cried in my room, I was withdrawn, unhappy, and empty inside.  I never wanted anyone to know that about me.

It wasn't until I was 21 and living in Cedar that someone saw me for who I was, and expressed her concern to a friend of mine.  She saw the deadness in my eyes and heard the forced laughter, and I realized when I couldn't get out of bed anymore to face the world that something had to change.  I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually seen colors, or moreso, the last time I had been happy.

So, I sought a medical intervention.  Four days later I was seeing colors again, and I actually felt OK with who I was.  I still felt minor hollowness inside of myself, but that came from keeping so many people at a distance for so long.

I struggled with letting people in for a long time, trying to overcome these fears I had, and I finally let someone in.  I'll leave you to draw that conclusion.  Just know that ever since the day I told him I trusted him, and I let that wall come down, I feel like an entirely different person.

The dichotomy between public and private me has become more and more narrow.  Public me is starting to chill out a little bit.  I've become more warm and sincere.  I'm finding that I actually have compassion and empathy for my fellow man.  More importantly, private me isn't sad anymore.  Private me smiles for no reason.  I feel hopeful and content.  I like who I see when I look in the mirror.  I don't let my lack of confidence get in my way of what I want to do anymore.  I can walk with my head held high and almost mean it now.  That's partially because having the love of someone who loves everything about me makes me realize that I am, in fact, someone worth loving.  I'm actually enough.

It's true what they say.  Love changes everything.

That makes me so happy.  That abiding, deep, brings-tears-to-your-eyes-because-you-can't-stop-smiling-happy.  Some people call it joy.

Keep it real readers.

Coins In The River

About a month ago, a few friends and I ventured out late on a Thursday night and made wishes on pennies and threw them in the Virgin River off of the La Verkin bridge.  I made seven wishes.

I'm not a superstitious person, and I rarely think wishes come true.  That being said, for kicks I like to tie my straw wrappers in knots while making wishes, if I'm around a clock at 11:11 I sometimes will close my eyes and make a wish, and even the occasional shooting star will stir up that childlike wonder that will cause me to make a wish as well.

I've never been one to believe in them, but one finds it hard to part with tradition.

I'll revisit this subject later.

Last night was my last choir concert for a while.  I'm not taking choir next semester, and I don't plan to take it again for at least a few semesters.  It's high time I focus on my chosen major, and get finished with my education.  Back to last night, it was a long road to get to that blasted concert.

I had to work that day, and I was scheduled to close.  However, my pleeb (sales associate for me to manage) was also a sales lead, and was fully capable of taking over managerial duties for the evening so I could find another associate to cover the end of my shift.  I had little trouble finding a substitute, and I thought everything would be smooth sailing.  NOT SO READERS!  My sales associate-turned-manager called in the morning of my concert, declaring she had pneumonia, and was unable to come in to work.  This woman gets sick constantly.  Seriously.  She needs to take a multivitamin or probiotic cultures or something and build up that immune system.  When I heard this dreadful news, at first I was feeling disappointed, but resigned to the unpleasant truth because Sky was going to be at black belt training and frankly, I just didn't feel prepared for the concert anyway.

Then I found out he didn't go.  He decided to stay to see my concert and take me to an institute dance after.

The scramble was on.  I had to find another replacement, and fast.  Luckily, my wonderful friend/secret lover/coworker stepped in and saved the day.  She covered the end of my shift so I could get pretty, go to my concert, rock the world, and dance the night away.  She's amazing.

The night ended up being wonderful.  My hair was rocking a fabulous ponytail with mod bangs, my eyeliner was perfect, and I was with the love of my life, who I found out loves me more than karate.  I know that's a silly thing to wonder about, but there have been times where I felt number 2 on his important scale behind karate.  But I'm not number 2!  That literally makes me breathe a sigh of relief.

The night ended parked in front of his house, where he kissed me until I was dizzy.  He had never done that before, so I was pretty impressed.  He bid me goodnight and told me he loved me, and I ran two stop signs on the way home.  Not my finest moment, but I didn't care.  I was floating on a cloud made out of sunshine and hugs and unicorns.

I can't wait to be his wife.  I don't think I've ever openly admitted that about anyone before, but it's true.  He's so good for me.  He keeps me on my toes, he calls me out on my crap, he doesn't let me get away with anything, and on top of it all, I've never been with anyone who has loved me so much for who I am.  Someone who has worked so hard to earn my love and trust, who makes me laugh every day, who wants to be weird with me, who never makes me cry (like he could), who believes in me to succeed.  I didn't know love could be like this.  I never viewed myself as missing something in my life until he came along, and filled voids I didn't even know I had.

Now, going back to the coins in the river, five of the seven wishes I made that night came true.  The rest would take place too far in the future to tell whether or not they will come true.  Those are some pretty awesome odds.

I think I need to go back to that river.  I have a really important wish to make.

Keep it real readers.

Funny How Things Work Out

I found out today that when Skyler first met me, he hated me.

He found me annoying, abrasive, loud, self-involved, and all-around unpleasant.  When I would get up to speak in church he would roll his eyes and think, "Oh man, not her."  In fact, the night we happened to go with the same group of friends to the movies and I changed my mind about him, he groaned on the inside, bemoaning the fact he couldn't sit next to my friend, and instead had to sit by me.

Funny how things work out, eh?

To be fair, when I first met him, he was a far cry from my prince charming.  I found him dull, but tried very hard to impress girls, and from my past experiences with those in his family and with his closest friends, I figured him to be a corny, slow-witted, and very, very close-minded person.

Again, funny how things work out.  He's crazy in love with me, and I can't imagine spending at least the rest of my life with anyone else.  We've spent the last month (almost) looking at engagement rings and talking about our future and discussing beverage choices and photographers.

I have to go back to the oral surgeon's office tomorrow after class to have my packing pulled out from my sockets.  I'm terrified of being in pain again.  I never want to feel that again!  That's right, I'm going back to school tomorrow.  I'm excited to go back, and get back in my normal routine.  I just hope that the oral surgeon isn't too traumatic so I can also go back to karate.  I have a long way to go before I'll be ready for my belt test next month, and I can't afford to miss class anymore.

I haven't e-mailed my grandmother yet about her wedding dress.  I'm debating whether or not I should wait until we're officially engaged, or if I should just get it now.  It has to ship from Northern California so it should take a week to get here, plus she'll be sending us a package in a few weeks, so it could be an excellent "two birds, one stone" situation.

I should just ask for it now, shouldn't I?

Anyway, keep it real readers.

Preparations For Coming Attractions

Well readers, I got dry socket.

It's a common complication involved with healing from wisdom teeth extraction, so it wasn't out of the blue.  It's surprising how much pain a little hole can cause.  In my case it was two little holes.  Actually four, but only two of them are dry socket.

What does this mean?  It means I slept and when I wasn't sleeping I was overmedicating, and when I wasn't doing either of those, I was whimpering in excruciating pain.

Awesome right?

So my mother called my oral surgeon's office, which connected to his emergency line (AKA his cell phone), which led to him meeting us at his office, where he rinsed out my wounds and stuffed them with medicated packing that tastes like cloves.  I've certainly tasted worse things.  haha.

Anyway, I feel about 15 million times better now than I felt a few hours ago.  I have to go back in and have the packing pulled out on Monday, but I can deal with that.

In other news, I'm e-mailing my grandmother to see if she can send me her wedding dress.  I mean, we're not engaged yet, but if using her dress is a possibility, I'll need to look at it and decide if I need to make any alterations to it.

I love Sky. :)

Keep it real readers.

Recovery

Well readers, as most of you know, I'm currently recuperating from wisdom teeth extraction surgery.  All four in one fell swoop, because I'm hardcore like that.  According to my mother, I was in surgery for a whole 15 minutes.  Not too shabby.  All I remember is feeling tired, and next thing I know I hear voices from a million miles away telling me to take deep breaths and walk with my eyes closed.

When I woke up, I was completely numb from my eyebrows to my tonsils.  Everything was foggy and strange, and then suddenly I was very alert, and I tried to get up.  I made it all the way to the car with minimal problems, then I slept all the way to Wal-Mart, where I insisted I wanted to go in and shop.  I lasted about 15 minutes, and I felt my knees get weaker and weaker until I had to go back to the car.

I slept the rest of the day on my bed, fully clothed, only being woken up every few hours by my mother so that I would eat or take more meds.  I finally had some lucidity where I pounded some refried beans, which tasted amazing, then I was back to sleep for the night.

The next morning I was awoken by my severe mouth pain.  I stumbled into the kitchen to take my Lodine to take the edge off, and a few hours later I got a perc from my mom.  Rich finally went to fill my Lortab prescription, and after I took one of those, I checked out for about four hours only to wake up to answer the occasional text message.  Finally, I'd wake up, eat, take more Lortab, and I'd be out all over again.  It was pretty amazing.

I finally achieved my evening lucidity and decided to take a walk to get some fresh air, which was a poor decision because my teeth started chattering, and that hurt like hell, so I ran back to my house to warm up.  Just as I was about to give up altogether on trying to do anything and pull on my pajamas, there was a knock at the door.

It was Sky.  I don't remember the last time I felt so relieved to see someone in my life.  I noticed his hair was starting to get a little long and began to curl on the ends, which I find so amazingly cute if I wasn't in a medicine haze I would have been all over him.  He brought me my favorite flavor of candy cane, which is really hard to consume when you're not allowed to suck on anything, so I enjoyed licking it.  I ate about a third of it and left the rest of it on the counter to try again with later.

We talked for a while, but he had to go home and go to bed.  He gave me a sweet little peck before leaving, and finally, all was right with the world.

I'm totally falling asleep as I'm typing right now.  I'm on a lot of drugs.

Keep it real readers.

Pomegranate Dixie Salad

Pomegranate Dixie Salad is a Thanksgiving staple in the Gubler family.

It's not terribly tasty to me though.

Today was a great day.  I woke up in a great mood, greeted by my mother, who my dad sprung from the hospital this morning.  She wreaked of hospital, looked tired, and she was moving pretty slow thanks to recovering from surgery.

Not long after that my dad announced the our pre-Thanksgiving tradition was underway.  We began chowing down on delicious snack foods, but I had to stop myself so I could start getting pretty for dinner at Sky's grandma's house.  I pulled on my new blouse I bought for the occasion, curled my hair, slapped on my makeup, and pulled out my adorable new purple shoes.

He showed up looking handsome as ever, and smelling amazing.  Any and all nervousness I had after arriving at Grandma's quickly melted away when I squeezed his hand and felt him standing next to me.  All in all I had a great time.  I hadn't been to a big family Thanksgiving dinner since I was a little girl, so it was all very exciting for me.

We eventually left to finish some Christmas lights on his house, and perused the Black Friday ads.

When it came time to say goodnight, we drove around a little, talked, laughed, and when we stopped at my house he walked me to my door, and gave me quite possibly the greatest kiss of my adult life.  I felt it all the way down to my toes, and I stumbled into my house.

Great day.  I'm so crazy about that redhead kid.

Keep it real readers.

Sweet Insomnia, ergo Introspection

Well readers, it's about 2:30 in the morning, and I can't sleep.  It's kind of a funny story that brought me here.  I forgot to take my meds for a few days, which put me in a weird mood, and I was unbelievably tired and didn't know why.  I was afraid that I was coming down with some terrible disease or illness that was making me exhausted, but it turns out I was just forgetful.

When I stumbled upon this discovery earlier this evening, rather than doing the smart thing and taking the more pressing meds tonight and drugging up the rest of the way in the morning, I took everything I had missed tonight, making me feel amazingly alive and alert after a few hours.

So here we are readers.  I'm blogging in the wee hours of the morning.

In these past weeks since Sky and I got back together, I've become very introspective.  I've been trying to figure out what exactly is causing me to keep these walls up between him and me.  Why don't I ever invite him to spend time with my family?  Why can't I tell him exactly what is on my mind?  Why can't we spend time at my house?  Why does it feel like pulling teeth when I tell him about an event that I'm involved in?  Why don't I ever let him see me cry?  Why can't I trust him to be there for me and be faithful to me and not hurt me?

These are some pretty heavy questions that needed answering.

Hence the introspection.  Believe it or not, I'm a rather pensive person when I'm alone.  Most of the bubbliness that I'm known for is...well, to say it is an act seems to be a bit of an exaggeration.  It's not an act.  It's merely a more public-friendly facet of my personality.  It IS genuine, however, it is more of a "tip of the iceberg" version of me.

But I digress...

In thinking about the whole keeping-my-family-separate-from-Sky thing, I realized that my whole life I was taught that home was a "safe place," and it was a place where I knew I wouldn't be hurt by those I loved--theoretically speaking of course.  As some of you know that wasn't always the case.  At any rate, I've always been wary of bringing people over and inviting them into what I lovingly refer as "The Curl Pod."  Especially when it came to individuals I was dating.  Furthermore, I was also afraid of my family getting attached to someone and then having it not work out, and suffering not only my own pain of separation and loss, but also my family's pain.  I learned how possible that was the hard way from an old flame from high school.  It didn't work out, and to this day, they still bring him up with a distant sadness in their voice, and it's been over five years.  It's one thing to leave me, but I hate hurting my family.

When it comes to the whole trusting-him-not-to-hurt-me thing, along with the having trouble inviting him to things I'm involved in, well, my dating history is checkered at best.  I've invited people I was involved with to events I was involved in and have been let down many a time.  I've been stood up, or worse, he was on time...with another girl.  When it comes to getting hurt, every time I've let someone in I've been left.  Left for someone else, albeit another girl, and once even for a guy.  I've been left because he wasn't having enough alone time, because I wasn't righteous enough, because I talked too much, and even because I didn't talk enough.  Go figure.

That being said, Sky knows pretty much everything about me and I've been trying really hard to be open with him, even about the stupid things, and despite all of it, he still loves me.  He doesn't understand it when I look at him with a hint of admiration and surprise in my eyes.  When I say "I'm so lucky" I don't think he sees how much I mean it, or from where it's coming from.

A long time ago I made a promise to myself that if I ever started to feel this way about someone this strongly, then I was going to take them to where I was sealed to my parents, and tell them the story of that day.  Moreover, I would tell them three more words I've never said to anyone.  It's not like when I said "I love you," where I've said it a number of times to a number of people in varying degrees of honesty and context.  There's only one degree of meaning it for me.

What are they?  What are these three words that I've never said?

"I trust you."

Yeah.  It's kind of a big deal, and the very idea I'm almost there gives me both a nauseous and excited feeling in my stomach, and I'm pretty sure that's not just my body's reaction to catching up to my missed medications.

Believe you me, I'll keep you posted.

Keep it real readers.

Getting My Other Half Back

It's been a crazy week readers.

Tuesday I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life, and by the end of the day I was begging for forgiveness.

Wednesday I was numb with regret.  I was hopped up on way too many psychotropics to even feel like myself anymore.  I couldn't even maintain a thought.

Thursday I thought I was going to be OK, but every second I was alone I was crying.  I eventually did pull myself together for company, but my night was wasted in sighs.

Friday we got together and tried to talk about what happened, and it didn't go very well, so there was more crying, followed by more self loathing, followed by just plain depression.

Saturday I was too exhausted to cry anymore.  I was just drifting through my day, my hair not done, my makeup barely on, resigning to the fact that I had messed up too much thanks to my own fear, and I didn't think I was ever going to be happy again.  I left him alone for the day, letting him hate me because I hated me.

Until he texted me.

He merely asked me if I was working, but seeing that text message, seeing it was from him, I felt tears sting my eyes and my breath caught in my throat.

We had a brief, pleasant conversation, which took a negative tone as he began to talk about his dog, who has been really sick.  I expressed my concern, to which he replied how it would suck if he lost both him and me in the same week.

All I could say was I was still here.

"I know," he said.

The familiar sting came back to my eyes as I revealed my wish to take back Tuesday.

I nearly swallowed my tongue at his reply.  "Maybe you can."

He told me he would be over later, and at that point I couldn't stop shaking.  I thought I was going to throw up.  I could barely keep my hands steady to put on a little eyeliner and lip gloss so I didn't look completely pathetic looking.

When he finally came over he asked me to go for a drive with him.  I kept my hands in my lap, staring at them in anticipation.

What happened next I didn't expect.

He started telling me how different and strange I was.  How he thought it was weird I liked bleu cheese and not maple bars, how I liked drawing and Lego's but not dolls and ponies as a kid, how I love to touch literally everything, whether it belongs to someone else or not.

But despite all of those weird things about me, we have all kinds of deep, important things in common, and that's important in a relationship.

He then told me what he went through the four previous days, from heartbreak to anger to confusion, to more anger.

Then we stopped.

And he told me he loved me.  He really loved me, and he wants our relationship to continue.  Not in a few months, not in a few weeks, but right away.

Not without a condition though.  I have to trust him.  I have to trust that he's not going to hurt me, and he's going to try to earn that trust.

I think that's a condition I can live with.

So we snuggled up and watched a movie.  As I relaxed in his arms, I felt the safety and relief of being home.

All is right with the world once again.  My heart is whole.

Keep it real readers.

Gaining Some Perspective

Well readers, as most of you know already, I broke up with Sky.  I explained my fears and concerns that I had, and then I calmly told him I was letting him go.

I felt melancholy, but also I felt a wave of peace come over me, like whatever was going to come of this was going to be good.  Then I went on Facebook and changed my status to "single."

Then I started to cry.

And cry.

And cry.

Then I regained my composure, put on my makeup, and went to work, and I was fine...for a while.

About an hour before the end of my shift I got a text message from Sky, explaining how he was never "going through the motions" and that he actually loved me and he was saving money and looking at rings and how I must have read him wrong.

I was in the middle of the sales floor when I read that.  I dropped my phone on the floor, fell to my knees, and burst into tears.  My boss had never seen me cry before.

I knew at that point we weren't really over, but we had a lot of communicating to do, because clearly we were not making our intentions known.  So we started talking.  Mostly texting right now because I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to see my face.  He's pretty hurt, which actually surprises me.  I didn't think he'd do anything but carry on in his usual way.  But his mother tells a different story.  He's been a bit of a mess.

I don't think I'm over Sky, but I've never felt this OK after a breakup.  Sure, I'm sad, but I'm not throwing things around and eating my weight in ice cream or watching sappy movies like I did after my last breakup.  Then again, I was surprised by my last breakup, and moreover, I was the dumpee, not the dumper.  But I don't feel like Sky and I are over, so that seems to ease the pain considerably.

I think some of the pain he's feeling is due to the fact that he thought that I was hooked, and no matter how crappy he acted, or how much he would ignore me, I would still love him and stand by him.

I'll keep you posted on how we work things out, but one thing's for sure.  We have a lot of things to work out.

Keep it real readers.

I've Never Felt This Confused...

I come at you from a very upsetting place readers.

I feel my heart breaking in my chest.

This past weekend Sky went out of town for black belt training, which I'm used to.  He has it every month.  This time was different though.  He didn't talk to me the entire time he was gone, and not even when he got back.  Hours after his return I finally sent him a message asking if he was alive.

Long story short, he didn't even think he'd done anything wrong.  He is his own person, but to not text your girlfriend for two days is kind of messed up if you ask me.  But maybe I'm just crazy like that.

Anyway, today after karate we stopped at Big Lots, and I was still fuming from the previous few days.  Finally he asked me what was wrong, and I explained that being ignored for two days made me upset.  His only excuse was he was busy.

That turned into a conversation where he admitted he felt something was wrong in our relationship, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was, then he started pointing out things he noticed within himself that he felt were wrong.

He never fell for me.
We always hang out at his house.
We never say what we want to say when something is wrong.

The latter two I can deal with, and can be fixed.  The first one felt like a slap in the face.

Never fell?  That means the last four months were....pointless.  I mean, I had a feeling that he wasn't in as deep as I was, and part of me wondered if he was only with me because he wanted to have a girlfriend, and not necessarily because he wanted to be with me.

Now I know, in a way, I was right.

He cares about me, I know that for sure.  But now I wonder about the "I Love You"s and the dates and the kisses.  How much of it was just an act?  All of it?  Did love just slowly grow over time for him?

I always knew I wasn't his first choice.  I know he was always into the prettier, thinner, less complicated girls in the ward before I came along, and he will likely go back to them after I'm gone.

But the last four months with him have been amazing.  He's made me so happy, and we have been so great together.  I've never felt better in my life, and I've never felt so strong and so confident.

He has been good to me, and good for me.  I've never felt this way about anybody before, and the thought of being with someone else just feels wrong.  I've never thought about marrying anyone before him.  I've never said "I love you" and meant it before him.

It begs the question:  What do I do?

Do I cut and run?  Look for someone who loves me first?  Go back to singlehood and *gulp* dating?

Or do I stay with the only man I've ever loved, give it time, allow him to figure out what all being a boyfriend entails and be patient?

I don't know.  I have some serious thinking to do.

Keep it real readers.

Crazy November

The end is near, dear readers.  The end of 2010, that is.

Well, Halloween was last weekend, which involved a pretty awesome trip to Frightmares with some friends and Sky, and now November is in full swing.

Last Thursday was my possible future niece MaKinli's first birthday, which turned out to be super fun.  I was really nervous at first, but after a few minutes of acclimating, and internally blushing from my ears to my toes when he mentioned her gift from "the both of us," I started to feel much better.  I took the opportunity to fall into the background a little bit and watch Sky's family interact with one another, which I love doing, and it helped me gain a little perspective, as well as take mental notes for future reference on particular family members. (for gift ideas mostly)  Plus they had Rainbow Chip AND German Chocolate Cake, which I washed down with a delicious glass of Apple Juice and some Cookies & Cream ice cream.  Awesome.

Sunday we "Fall Back," so don't forget.  Extra hour of sleep!

This coming Thursday is my mother's birthday.  I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to say how old she is, but let's just say if I told you, you likely wouldn't believe me.  She looks terrific.  I picked out her gift at work today, and I'm pretty sure she's going to like it.  I didn't go Christmas thoughtful on it, but I'm still pretty proud of it.

The following Thursday is Sky's brother-in-law's birthday.  I'm not sure what's going on for that, or if I will have anything to do with it, so I'm going to put that thought on one of the back burners for now.

The Wednesday after that my mother is having surgery.  I'm not sure if I'm at liberty to discuss it, so I'm just going to tell all of you, my dear readers anyway.  She's having a hysterectomy.  I've never seen my mother so excited to have any sort of procedure/surgery/doctor visit in my life.  It's funny to see her so giddy.

Bear in mind, that's the DAY before Thanksgiving, which I will be spending with Sky's family.  His whole family.  Including Grandma Gube.  Nothing to be concerned about, right?  Well, I'm nervous nonetheless.

The following Monday I'm getting my wisdom teeth removed.  It's about time.  They've been throbbing for ages, and I'm pretty sure I'll go into liver failure from all of the pain meds I've been taking if I don't get them out soon.  I'm pretty sure I'm kidding....at least I hope I am.

Two days of narcotic-induced fuzz later, and we're looking at December, and I have a feeling things are going to get interesting.

So I'm gift planning now.  I'm thinking of picking up some canvases and making some art pieces for a few people, including part of a three-piece project I've begun the early stages of development on and have really high hopes for that I will likely be giving to Sky.  I'd love to disclose the title, but it would totally give it away, and I don't want to jinx it.  All I can say is that I'm super excited about it.  I'm thinking I'll make another one for my parents, but I'm pretty much blank there right now.  I'm sure I'll come up with something.

I'm just getting really suddenly inspired to create.  I haven't felt this way about my art in a long time, and I'm really anxious to get started.

Anyway, this has turned out to be quite a novella.

Keep it real readers.

Am I Enough?

I woke up on the insecure side of life today.  The ugly, annoying, ridiculous side of life, meaning I'm feeling ugly, annoying, and ridiculous.

I hate the Ungame.  Not for what is said during it, but for what isn't said.  It's the knowing what the other person wants to say, but they don't want to hurt your feelings so they make up some other answer that is considerably less hurtful, but you saw in their face what they really wanted to say while they hesitated, and just seeing that thought cross their mind stung.  It hurt so much you don't even want to admit to yourself that you even saw that thought cross their mind.  But you did.  And it's killing you to know they feel that way.

He could do better than me.  Someone funner, smarter, more confident, thinner, prettier, stronger, more athletic, less annoying, more graceful, less talkative, someone who is a better listener, even a better person than me.

I just wonder if I'll be enough, or if he'll leave as soon as someone better comes along that shows an interest in him.

Just a thought on a day like this.

Keep it real readers.

Excitement, Sundays, and The Ungame

Well readers, I am very excited for the coming week.

No karate, so maybe my lingering soreness from my beloved sport can work its way out of my body.  I only work three days this week, which means I'll actually be home for dinner a few days this week before *drum roll* going to FRIGHTMARES!

That's right, Sky, a few friends, and me are going to Lagoon for the weekend, and I am super excited!

In other news, I went to church in Virgin for a missionary homecoming with Sky today.  Is it weird that I still get a little excited when he introduces me as his girlfriend?  It'll be four months since we've been together a week from tomorrow, and it still feels brand new sometimes.  I love that feeling.  I hope it never goes away to be honest.

After we left church we drove around looking at houses we liked and talking about our future children.  I freaked out a little inside, since I'd never actually done anything like that with anyone else.  The whole idea of a future like that, with a house and children and a husband and an actual life just never seemed so real to me.  I actually felt happy about the prospect, especially with him in that future.  That is one thing I can finally admit to myself.

Tonight I broke out the infamous Ungame.  The game that almost cost me a friendship when I was 17.  I hadn't played it since, and it was actually pretty neat to pull it out and dust it off.  It was hard keeping it light, since I had about a million serious questions in my head that I didn't want to say in front of Dason, and also didn't want to admit that I wanted to know the answer to.

Silly Ungame.

To reiterate what I said earlier, I'm super excited for this week. SOOOOO excited.

Keep it real readers.

Ironic Strength

Today was, to say the least, awful.

I mean, the events of the day weren't awful in and of themselves, but add epic PMS and cramps to them, and yeah.  Awful.

I woke up much later than I intended, which set back my chore-doing (I'm literally broke, and I asked my mother if I could do chores around the house today to make a little lunch money) by a few hours.

I cleaned out the fridge, swept away cobwebs, and wiped down blinds all in an effort to make a few bucks so I wouldn't starve.

Not a big deal, but I didn't hear from Sky all day, which given my already fragile state of mind, was not conducive to a happy Karen.  Any other week I wouldn't have thought much of it, and just figured he was busy and I would see him in class.

Karate came, and I watched his eyes soften as he raised his eyes to look at me across the room through the window while he was teaching the younger class.  Again, any other week I would have smiled and waved.  What did I do?  I averted my eyes.  All during warm-ups I felt his eyes on me, daring mine to stare back, but I kept my eyes focused on the floor in front of me.  I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing my deep blue eyes.  Especially on a day where I was feeling so unattractive.

He actually came over and touched me to get me to look up.  I hoped my sleeve wouldn't pull back to reveal the evidence of what I'd done to myself earlier that day.  (Again, not cutting.)  Thankfully it didn't.  I gave him one glance before averting my eyes again.

While doing a drill later in class, I strained a muscle on the back of my thigh.  I had taken a pretty good kick to it a week before, but it was on the mend.  It hurt so bad.  I dealt with the throbbing and the disappointment pretty decently at first, but when I messed up a simple kick three times, and Sky insisted I do one more, I'd had it.  My leg was screaming, my abdomen throbbing, my entire body covered in my own sweat and a few tears from when I hobbled out of class after my strain, and I did something childish.  I stormed away.  I folded my arms, I disrespected Sky as my teacher in front of the whole class, and I told him no.

He should have made me do push-ups.  I don't know why he didn't.  Part of martial arts is controlling every part of you, including your emotions, and I failed.  I'm sitting here on my bed, hours later, feeling completely embarrassed.  He later warned me that I was way out of line, and if I pulled something like that again there would be consequences.

As I stood in my room getting ready for bed, I stretched out my pathetic, sore body.  Looking at my bruises and cuts, extending my arms and legs as far as they could go, feeling joints pop and crack.  Feeling the muscles tense and relax with my slow movements, massaging my leg whose pain has decreased to a dull, gnawing ache.  In spite of all of that, all the pain, the soreness, I felt something new.  Strength.  Being involved in something I once found so confining and restrictive has made me feel powerful.

It's funny how tearing down my stone walls, replacing them with thinner and thinner materials until they're almost gone completely, leaving me vulnerable and open to heartbreak, letting someone see all of me has made me feel strong.  He has taken my weakness from me.  He has refused to let me hide behind it, and I love him so much for that.

I just wish I could tell him that.

Keep it real readers.

I Still Can't Believe It

Well, we're rounding out three and a half months, and still going strong. I'd be lying if I didn't say I was pretty excited about that. He officially knows all my important secrets, and I hope I know all of his.

I never imagined that I would feel this way about another human being.

No relationship is perfect though. But I'm OK with our little corner of imperfection. I find any excuse to shut down when Sky confronts me with a problem. But he makes it so easy for me to do that when he insists on having serious conversations over text rather than face-to-face. Neither of us like heavy conversations, so I guess we have our own ways of avoiding them. We're working on it though.

I see pictures of a girl he was involved with about a year ago, and a video he made for her explaining his feelings he had for her at the time, and I can't help but feel like a bit of a failure in his eyes. She's beautiful. Logically, I know that I more than likely have nothing to worry about. She's with someone else now, and she's married with a baby on the way, and he's largely over her, and I know he's mentioned he just needs to get around to deleting them, but it doesn't change the fact that we've been together for a while and he still has them. The other night I just sat and stared at my hands when they popped up while he was looking through his photos on his computer.

When he talks about her I want to revert to weird habits I used as a teenager to deal with stress and low self-esteem, but I save up the fear and the insecurity that bubbles up until I get in my car or make it all the way home to let loose. (No, I'm not going to divulge what it is. But don't worry, it's not cutting. Blood is just too messy.)

I'm working on getting up the nerve to say something. I promise I am. By the end of the week I will have taken care of it. I was actually going to say something today, but he jilted me for homework, and I ate a chunk of cheese the size of my hand followed by a huge spoonful of fudge and felt like a failure while watching Law & Order: SVU.

Then I watched a documentary about eating disorders and had a flashback to when I was 16.

This is the worst week of the month for me. Can't wait till next week.

I love Sky, I really do, and I know he loves me. I just had a whole bunch of crazy, PMS-tacular insecurity to get off my chest so I don't stew about it all night.

Keep it real readers.

Hearing It Back

Yesterday was amazing.

I went to Sky's karate tournament in Mesquite, where he had volunteered me to sing the National Anthem, and later I helped perform in his Demo team.

Sky's best friend Thomas took Grand Champion, and his girlfriend Sam and I hung out for the better part of the day while our men were competing and judging. After all of my participation was over, Sam and I decided to hit the town and grab a quick bite (which turned out to be a slice of chocolate cake and a strawberry shake) when I ran into Sky in the hall on our way out. He asked me if we were heading out, and I replied that it was only going to be for a little bit. I planted a quick kiss on his lips before muttering "love you" as I turned around to catch up with Sam. What I heard next was something I didn't expect.

"I love you too."

I stopped short and turned around to look at him. "That's right!" he said, "I said it!" and let out a quick laugh before heading back into the gym.

I couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day. I still can't stop smiling.

He loves me.

After the tournament was over, we grabbed Blizzards from DQ, and after revealing that there was a Popeye's Chicken at the edge of town, we made a bee-line to it. As we were chowing down on our delicious spicy chicken, he surprised me with yet another sentence.

"You know what's crazy?"

"What?" I replied.

"Next year at the tournament, you could be competing as Karen Gubler."

I almost swallowed my tongue. I mean, yeah I've thought about marrying him, and to be honest, for the first time I'm actually with someone who I feel like I could not only marry, but be really happy with forever. We've joked about getting married off and on since we got together, but the way he looked at me and the way he said that, I knew.

He's the one. It's not a matter of what if, it's not a "I could compete as Karen Gubler."

I will.

Wow.

He's going to marry me.

Keep it real readers.

No Take-Backs

Well kids, Karen is dealing with some major crap from these past few days.

First off, Sky went out of town for a family reunion, and that's when things got weird.

I went to Peach Days with Sky's best friend so I could have someone to hang out with and he could enjoy some female company. The night ended weird. I don't really want to talk about the events of that night, but just trust me when I say it ended weird. We're still dealing with the weirdness.

Later that night Sky and I had a really important conversation, and I felt closer to him than I'd ever felt to anyone.

He came back today and we got to spend some time together. Unfortunately we weren't alone. I never feel like we get to be alone. It sucks. The night consisted of awkward glances at Sky's friend while trying to be close to my man. He's been sick, so that marks day nine with no goodnight kiss.

After telling him my exciting news (announcing I was ready to start Karate) and talking a little bit more we said our good nights to one another, I called after him and said four words I can't take back.

"I love you, Skyler."

He turned around and just said "Wow."

He later texted me and said it was a good thing, and that he never expected to hear that from a girl, but not before I had a complete panic attack in my Subaru on the way home.

Sky's friend then texted me and asked me if I was sure I was happy with Sky.

I think I am, but sometimes I feel like I wish there was more. More alone time. More of a partnership. More...openness with me. I feel like he's afraid to let go and love me back. It's been an agonizing process to open myself up to someone and let them see me. My insecurity, my pain, my scars, everything I hide from everyone else. I let him see all of me, and all I want is the same thing. I want him to let go and free fall with me into this vast unknown space called love.

Anyway, I'm getting mushy.

Keep it real readers.

Coming To Terms

After spilling the information that my mother insisted was a potential dealbreaker to Sky, I'm happy to announce I'm still in a relationship.

The last week or so has been very introspective for me. I've been dealing with issues in the past that I've been struggling to let go of, and it's been very therapeutic for me. Since I've been having a lot more free time than I've usually had lately, I spent a lot of that time doing things for me that I needed to do, like catching up on my TiVo and cleaning my room, as well as sorting out issues in my life that need to be dealt with before I move forward.

The big one was coming to terms with the fact that someone who was supposed to love me my whole life and help take care of me and support me growing up has never loved me. She instead used every opportunity she had to ruin my self-esteem and drive me to self-destructive and potentially dangerous behavior. Something I've been struggling to come back from and forgive myself for now that I'm older and wiser. Because of her I struggle with basic relationship necessities like trust among other things. However, I can take solace in the fact that I never have to see her again, and furthermore, she'll be dead soon.

Another thing I've been struggling to come to terms with is a new feeling in my life I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing in my own life. Love. Real, serious, hardcore love for someone outside of my family. That "I want to marry you" love.

I feel it. I feel it when I look at him, when I talk to him, when I think about him, all the time.

It's a hard thing to admit to myself after believing for so long that I was never going to find it, but I'm working on it.

I just don't want to say it first.

Keep it real readers.

Two Months Ago Today

Well readers, today markes the two-month anniversary of dating my man. Unfortunately I don't think there will be much celebrating. He's been sick the past few days and today is jam-packed full of stuff I have to do, including two job interviews and work on top of my normal school day.

Sarcastic yay time. Yay.

On top of that he's going to a family reunion tomorrow, and he'll be gone through the weekend, so this is just going to pass by with little recognition, and truth be told, I can live with that. I'm much too tired today to really care. At three months I'll expect a little fanfare, but that's mostly because three months is a bit of a milestone. That's a quarter of a year. Honestly one month was huge for me.

However, before things get too serious I'm going to have to tell him something that may or may not be a dealbreaker for him, so who knows, next post I could be single. We'll see.

I hope it's not.

Keep it real readers.

Sometimes I'm Scared of You

When it comes to matters of the heart, I've always considered myself a cautious person. I've always kept at least one foot on the ground in every relationship I've had, and concerning everyone I've dated.

Why?

Because when I was a little girl I promised myself that I would only really fall in love one time, and I was going to make sure that I was sure about it. It was going to be the product of prayer and faith and lots and lots of thought. I wanted to be one of those women who was in love with one man their entire lives. That was going to be me. I was going to give my heart away once, and I was going to make it count. Unfortunately, life dealt me a rough hand for a few years when I was a teenager that made actually letting myself fall for someone a lot more difficult.

However, since being with Sky, it's been harder and harder to keep that foot on the ground. I'm terrified that I'm going to leave the ground completely, only to feel it rushing back to meet me. In the face. I'm afraid of being wrong, and I'm more afraid of what I don't know.

My heart feels like it's getting ready to let go of the ground completely, and blindly just let the open air play with my hair and caress my face. My mind is crippled by echoes of the past that have left me emotionally scarred and bruised, and it is trying desperately to cling to the earth as long as possible.

Who will win in this epic battle between faith and fear?

Only time will tell.

Pray for me readers, and keep it real.

Catching Up With Myself

I was skimming through my old blogs in an effort to walk down good ol' memory lane, when I came across one called "Way Back To OK" that I posted this past January, and I was cursing my singlehood. I would be lying if I said it didn't make my chuckle just a little. I wrote that I knew it was only a matter of time before I found the right person and all of these trivial crushes and awkward dates wouldn't mean anything.

I never thought I'd be eating those words so soon. I thought it would be years before I found someone who would turn my whole world upside down. Less than six months later I started dating Skyler. The Yin to my Yang. The Spoon to my Ice Cream. The Cheese to my Macaroni.

I've honestly never met anyone like him. I'm so lucky.

I know my blogs have recently turned into a gush fest about my man, but I can't help it. :)

Keep it real readers.

First Day Back....ish

Well, today was my first day of class...at Dixie.

I have to admit the day did not start well. I couldn't bring myself to wake up after a terrible night's sleep, and once I arrived on campus with my older brother in tow it didn't get much better. I missed my class due to waking up too late, so I decided to head to the bookstore to check on the price of my books. I reached the top of the stairs and started to walk toward the entrance when I spotted someone I was hoping to leave long in my past. I hoped to never see this person for the rest of my natural life. I promptly turned around and headed in the opposite direction as fast as possible.

I struggled through the hordes of people desperately trying to pay for classes and get questions answered and running into people they haven't seen all summer, trying to stave off the panic attack rising in my chest. I made it all the way to the library, stumbled up the stairs, and found a secluded corner with a chair where I collapsed and tried to compose myself.

I sat there for at least 20 minutes, feeling ridiculous and like a failure, having missed my class, re-enrolled at the school I graduated from already, and moreso struggling to compose myself. What an excellent morning. (Imagine that phrase dripping with sarcasm.)

The rest of the day was very productive. I filled out 10 job applications, eight of which I plan to turn in tomorrow between my classes.

The only thing that would have made the second half of the day better is if I got to spend a little time with my awesome boyfriend, but he's being an awesome friend to someone who needs him a little more than me tonight, and he'll be all mine tomorrow. YAY!!!

Keep it real readers.

I Am Beyond Blessed.

Readers, I have to say I haven't felt this good about my life in a long time. I have great friends who love me and teach me so much, great family who keep me grounded, an amazing boyfriend who likes me for exactly who and what I am, even when my geek shows, and I am happy.

Although I have been complaining a little about starting school next week, I have to say the thought of conquering calculus next semester is rather thrilling. I look forward to the challenge it brings, and I also look forward to setting foot on good ol' Dixie soil again. I love SUU, and I do intend to return to finish my BS there, but I feel like being here is what I need to do, and life since I made that decision has improved exponentially, so I know I'm doing the right thing. I'm making new friends, I'm reconnecting with old ones, and I'm happier than I've been in a long time.

I'm so excited for Robbie to come home! I haven't seen my big brother all summer, and his last day in Minnesota is Thursday. He'll be just in time for classes, and I am so glad to have my school buddy back. Without him I don't think I'd ever go to school. I'm a terrible self-starter.

At any rate, life is good, God is good, and He loves me.

Keep it real readers.

Uncharted Territory

Well readers, yesterday marked six weeks. Six weeks of dating my redhead kid. To be perfectly honest I'm surprised it lasted this long. I haven't driven him away with my crazy or sabotaged the relationship, and even in the beginning with my freak outs he stayed with me.

We are officially in uncharted territory. I've never lasted this long with someone I actually saw on a regular basis. But now that the new relationship smell is starting to wear off, and the fuzz is starting to wear thin, my anxiety is starting to creep in.

I know I really shouldn't worry. I know he cares about me, and we like each other a lot, but a little bit of my baggage starts to rear its ugly head, and unfortunately he doesn't know about it yet, so I can't tell him that my insecurities are starting to work their way into my happiness with him.

All that aside, he's a wonderful guy. He's sweet and thoughtful, and does some of the corniest, cutest things I've ever seen anyone do for another person. He does them for me.

I'm just taking every day we have and seeing it as a blessing. I really am lucky.

Keep it real readers.

Epiphanies, Kissing, and the L-word.

I spent about 15 hours on the road with my mom yesterday, and while it was my turn to drive my mom decided to take a quick nap, I started thinking. It will be a month tomorrow since I started seeing my redhead kid, and we still haven't kissed. I have to say I'm struggling with being patient in all of this, but I like him. I really like him. I think I might actually feel more than that for him, but to be honest I'm not quite ready to say the next l-word.

Anyway, I thought to myself that feeling the way I do, if I kissed him, life as I knew it would end. Something new would take it's place. What it would be, I'm not sure of. Maybe we'd realize we have no chemistry and that would be it. Or maybe it would be the moment we would realize we couldn't live without each other.

Like I said. Life as I know it would end.

Keep it real readers.

Providing Some Clarification

In three days it will be a month since I started seeing my favorite redhead kid. I think I owe you, my readers, a bit of an explanation as to what this past month entailed:

Week 1: We went on our first date, and spent the following five nights together. He asked me to be his girlfriend over text, to which I responded yes. Six hours later he broke up with me.

What happened: We hit it off a lot better than either of us expected, thus getting swept up in the moment and rushing into something neither of us were sure we were ready for. Was I hurt? Hell yeah. But I felt too much for him to let him go. I knew there was something about him that I had to stick it out for.

Week 2: Tumultuous to say the least. I went to a presentation the day after the breakup, and the whole time I just wanted to cry and yell at him the whole night. I wanted to hurt him back, the way he hurt me. I knew I had succeeded at one point that evening when he brought up something that I had posted and later deleted on Facebook that mentioned something to the effect that involved my thinking he was totally boss. He thanked me for thinking so highly of him. I told him I didn't want to talk about it as I choked back a few tears. I was mad at him, but I still felt that way about him. I couldn't help myself.

What happened: We needed a few days to gain some perspective. I ran into him the following day at Wal-Mart, and all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him, but I didn't. There were a few days of arguing and frustration, and it got worse and worse until I realized that I just needed to relax. I could actually feel how he was feeling, but we were both scared about what we were getting into, and that was getting in the way of actually having something real. After a few days, we got together the night before we both had to go out of town (Me to California, him to North Carolina). That night I knew we were going to be OK. It was only going to get better from here. While watching him demonstrate his karate routine mostly in silhouette from the streetlight down the road, I felt myself falling for him all over again. I gave him my St. Lawrence necklace for luck, and wished the next five days would go by in a flash.

Week 3: The majority of week three took place in the form of text messages. They only got sweeter as the week wore on. I felt a strange, beautiful, warm feeling wash over me. It was soft at first. Then it only became more pronounced.

We got home within an hour of one another, and the next day I saw him, and was met with quite possibly one of the silliest, cutest gifts I've ever received. The day ended up being filled with cute kids, sleepy music, and Costco. Later that night was even better.

Later that week I invited him over for dinner, which was delicious, and later we went bowling with his best friend. I beat him, which shocked me.

I could go on about how our fourth week went on, but we're currently in it, and needless to say, it just keeps getting better.

Keep it real readers.

In a little deeper than expected...

I'm head over heels.

I'm madly in like.

I'm so into this kid I want to scream and cry tears of joy just thinking about him.

I'm falling for him so much deeper than I thought I would.

I just hope he's falling back...

Feeling Like Doing Something Stupid

So, it's been about two weeks since my first date with my redhead kid, and in that time we managed to spend 6o% of our nights together, begin holding hands, cuddle on his porch swing, become Facebook official, and then have him freak out that we were moving too fast, step way back from it, and make me super frustrated.

Basically it's been a crazy roller coaster emotion-wise.

I woke up in the foulest mood today regarding him. I have this terrible urge to do something stupid, like cheat on him by going out with someone else and fooling around, and then telling him about it later.

Deep down I don't want to, because I know people move at their own pace, and it's unfair to push someone to move at yours, but things were going fine until he had to freak out on me and make our relationship move even slower than before...if not backwards altogether.

Yikes.

Keep it real readers.

My Redhead Kid

So, I recently started dating a young man in my singles' ward. He's amazing in every way I can think of. I like everything about him. His red hair, his freckles, the fact that he's totally absorbed in Karate, his voice, his hands, his eyes, his laugh, everything.

I've known him for about a year, but all of a sudden a few weeks ago it came to me that I had to get to know him better. I had to spend time with him.

I'm glad I did.

I haven't felt this happy in a long time.

I just want to hold his hands and count his freckles and play with his hair. I want to play with his arm hair and touch his skin and kiss his knuckles.

He's just so awesome, I can't even stand it.

I'm in like.

Keep it real readers.

Oh Boy...

Tomorrow I'm going on my first date with this guy that I think I'm really starting to like.

That being said, I'm starting to wonder if he likes me back. I think I'm the one who cares more in this case, and I don't like the way that feels. Maybe I'm not pretty enough, maybe I'm just too weird, maybe I talk too much, I don't know.

I'm just scared that I'm going to get hurt this time.

Keep it real readers.

Spastic Overthinking

Do you ever like someone, or at least think you might like someone, but you don't want to jinx it by doing anything stupid like thinking about it or telling anyone?

That's me.

I think I like someone, but at the same time I still haven't really made up my mind about the situation, but in case it can turn into something extraordinary, I'm trying to just play it cool and keep the lines of communication open and I'm trying to be a little flirtatious about it without being over the top.

The thing is, there's a chance that I think he might be into me too, but he's pretty inexperienced at this whole part of the human experience, and I think he might still be hung up on one of my best friends (which I can't blame him, she's totally awesome and beautiful).

I'm just being a spastic little girl over this.

I need a man's advice.

Keep it real readers.

Letting A Little Math Get In The Way

Last week I had a HORRIBLE day at work. It was so awful, I actually considered quitting my job and leaving finding a new one to chance. It was truly awful.

Then I remembered a few days previous I actually had prayed that I would have some sort of an experience to boost me in a direction. I really don't want to work in retail forever. Hell, I don't even want to take a semester off to work in retail. I want to graduate from college and actually do something that matters.

I want to teach Chemistry. I was just scared off by Calculus, and I let one stupid math class get in the way of my dream.

So I bought a huge Princeton Calculus study guide that goes into detail how to do everything that has to do with it, and I registered for class next semester. I'm taking the bane of my existence and one other class that is a prerequisite for my program.

I don't take my job seriously enough to actually do it for the rest of my life.

Yahoo Chat is hilarious. Just sayin'.

Keep it real readers.

Ch-ch-changes

Well, after two weeks of failure, restarting, and ultimately starving to the point of delirium, I gave up HCG. I realized that I respond much better to interventions like eating more vegetables and less cheese along with regular exercise rather than radical dieting and further starvation. This is my first real attempt at dieting, and I have to admit I'm impressed I lasted this long.

So I had a bean burrito for dinner, and it was quite possibly the single most delicious burrito I've ever had.

However, given my family history of straight-up s**t health, I have committed to some major changes in my life:

1: No more candy

2: No more soda--except the occasional diet soda.

3: Much less baked goods (i.e. Bread, cake, cookies, etc.)

4: EXERCISE! I respond well to jogging.

All in all, doable if you ask me.

Now I want to talk about something else: Men.

As most people who are familiar with me know, I'm not really the kind of girl who is good at getting into relationships. It just doesn't happen for me. I'm good at dating and flirting and casual activities, but I'm horrible at committing. I don't like the idea of it, especially at my young age. I'm only 22. I have the rest of my life to be married.

Tid-bit time: I can't say "I love you" to someone I'm involved with. I've never been able to feel like I would mean it. Saying it is a big deal to me. However, I can openly say it to my friends and family all the time.

I know. It's weird.

I just felt like I should bring that up because I've gotten a little crap lately for being persistently single.

Geek boy update: He hasn't tried to contact me in five days. I hope he's met someone who can love him back.

Keep it real readers.

Five Days In

As some of you know, I've started the HCG diet. It's five days in, and that means I've finished my two days of delicious fat-loading, and I have now been living on a strict, less-than-500-calorie diet for three whole days. I have to say, I miss food. I literally crave everything from peanut butter and jelly to Caesar salad to cheese to pizza to hot dogs.

I've never been so miserable in my entire life. I miss eating. I'm so hungry I wonder if my stomach has begun eating itself.

I admit it. I'm weak.

However, I paid a lot of money for this, and I'll be damned if I cheat and mess this up. I hate wasting money.

On the bright side, I can happily say I've lost seven whole pounds. Go me!

I even bought outfits to shrink into, and so help me, they will fit!

Keep it real readers.

Focusing On New Things

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love FOOD. My whole life revolves around what I could potentially put in my mouth.

However, in a desperate attempt to get off of my necessary medications, and eventually get back into running, my old hobby from high school, I'm starting the famous HCG diet with my mother. I'm even going die-hard and taking the shots instead of using the pansy drops.

After two days of eating as much fat as possible, I feel like grease is coming out of my pores, and I'm actually looking forward to my 41 days of eating 500 calories comprised of fat-free, tightly portioned meat and vegetables.

Moving on...

A few days ago I got back from an amazing trip to Phoenix with my mom and younger brother. I bought some great stuff for my room at IKEA, as well as a couple of outfits that I can shrink into.

I celebrated my birthday by eating tons of free birthday food and barbecue, along with shopping and bra-fitting my aunt.

Great trip.

Great summer.

Keep it real readers.

My Prison Cell

My room here at my parents' house is very small. It is about 9x9, with 9-foot ceilings. It's literally a box. As I lay here on my twin-sized bed, on a mattress that is so saggy there is a nice divot I enjoy sleeping in, I stare around my strange box of a room and feel oddly like a prisoner. I know I'm not, in fact at any time I can get up, open my door, and leave.

However, laying here, staring at my boxes of possessions I've yet to unpack and my furniture that doesn't really fit in here, looking at my faux wood blinds in my windows that are ever so slightly different measurements from one another, and piles and piles of shoes, I can't help but feel trapped. Not by my parents or anything like that, but by me. I feel lost and trapped within myself. I've begun to feel like I don't know who I am anymore, and laying here in this cube with beige walls and white fixtures, I feel...disappointed in myself.

I was always one of those decisive girls. I always knew who I was. What I wanted. Where I was going. Now I find myself, two weeks from turning 22, and my whole life feels like it means nothing. All my years of working and trying to become something in my life has been all for naught.

I have a lot of pondering to do in my tiny cell.

Keep it real readers.

The Adjustment

Well chitlins, I'm rounding out the end of my second week of being home from SUU, and my room still looks like a pile of rubble usually only seen after a great natural disaster...or perhaps an atomic blast. Hopefully I'll use my long weekend to fix that.

The week after I came home I went back to my old job at LB, only to be promoted to management, thus giving me power, prestige, a raise, and about three times the hours I was working as an associate. Wild. I haven't slept deeper in months.

Financially, I'll be pulling in some wicked bank, however, I am in dire need of paying off some debts this summer, and to add to the stress, I have to pay for housing on my own next year.

Frustration ensues.

Worse yet, I'm still in that "I don't know what to do with my life" phase.

That's right kids. I, Karen Faith Curl, daughter of a scholastic with three bachelor's degrees and a former partier, sister of an aspiring lawyer and future luthier (one who manufactures guitars), am in the throws of the dreaded quarterlife crisis. Words do not begin to describe my utter embarrassment.

So, in an effort to not fritter away the government's, and more importantly my money, I have decided to take some time off of school to do some soul searching. Perhaps I will travel and see some family. Maybe I'll spend my days job shadowing others who have figured things out. Or maybe I'll meet a rich, handsome man and never have to figure out another thing for myself ever again.

If only....

Maybe I should hire a life coach.

Wish me luck readers.

In the meantime keep it real.

Obsessions, Life, and Death

As long as I can remember, I've been obsessed with two things: Sex and death.

I could go on and on about sex, but I think today I'm going to stick with the latter.

I spend a lot of time thinking about death. A weirdly large amount for someone as generally content and vibrant as myself. I don't think about killing myself, or even dying. Just that moment where I go from being alive to being dead. That moment of death.

What do you suppose it feels like? Is it painful, like when you get punched in the chest or you fall on your face? Or is it pleasant, like the rush of air conditioning as you walk through an entrance to a store on a hot day?

Maybe it's barely a feeling at all. Like a soap bubble popping. Barely leaving any residue or evidence behind.

Sometimes I think of it as when you come up for air when you've been under water for a long time. Everything is clearer. Your vision, your hearing, everything.

I like to think of life as kind of like being asleep. Before we were born we could hear it all, understand it all, but now we're sort of unconscious. Things tend to not make sense, sometimes they transition weird, some times are more vibrant than others, like dreams. Maybe we're all living these weirdly long dreams, and when we die it's like we're waking up from these dreams we're in.

Just something I was thinking about while I was brushing my teeth...

Keep it real readers.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig.

That was a phrase my mom used to say when we would get home from a long trip when my brothers and I were just kids. I find the phrase rather fitting, due to the nature of this post.

Well readers, I'm home from SUU for the summer.

I am coming at you from my slowly-turning-back-into-a-semi-normal-dwelling room, which over the course of the past few days has gone from bags, boxes, and ridiculous amounts of meandering junk, to a place where I can get dressed, sleep, and get ready for the day in, with about 45% of my floor space still covered in boxes and bags. Bear in mind my room is about 11 x 12. I like to describe it to onlookers as "cozy."

I'm looking forward to starting my summer job, going on a few radical adventures with some friends, attending a summer class or two...or four...and just enjoying the boiling summer sun of St. George.

Maybe I'll get a tan for a change. Freak everyone out when they realize that I am not, in fact, a vampire. I realize my love of nighttime and my utter blood lust can throw people off, and perhaps my canines are a little sharper than most, but I assure you, I am not acquainted with that particular lifestyle. At least not first hand. haha.

I'm happy to be home, despite being trapped in boy jail. I lived in it the first 21 years of my life, what harm can three months do?

Weird side note: I finished a journal today. I wrote my last entry in it earlier this evening, and I realized I'd been writing in that journal for nine years and three months. I slacked off quite a bit with that one. At any rate, I found another one that I received as a gift from a Sunday school teacher I had when I was a teenager, and I'm excited to start a new chapter in my life in it.

Anyway, that's all for now readers.

Keep it real.

High Ups and Low Downs

This past week has been nothing short of a roller coaster. To start things off, I have been so stressed out all of my old injuries that occasionally flare up are all flaring up at the the same time, which isn't making me feel better about my hair falling out and my stutter being worse than it's ever been.

Monday was as cumbersome as usual, and Tuesday seemed to last forever, but things didn't get interesting until Wednesday.

Wednesday I took my final test in Music of the World, which I probably scored a low C grade on, followed by a miracle in the form of finishing my ePortfolio in a lot less time than I expected. I was so ecstatic I actually hugged the person sitting next to me. Math was as foreign as ever.

I was feeling pretty good until later that night when one of my roommates hurt my feelings really bad. That stung.

Thursday was slamming. I got a pretty decent score on a test, and I was set up on a blind date that turned out to be freakin' amazing. Then while talking to Heather after I divulged a little more than I wanted to about my past, which spilled over to feeling awkward on Friday, which was filled with free money and free food. The institute dance was amazing, filled with dancing and sweating and men and friends and laughing, which carried over to some rad hanging out at Denny's with Jana and Aubrey.

Today, however, has been less than stellar. I woke up aching all over, including a stomach ache, and half-heartedly got ready for work, which lasted far too long. I dragged my broken, achy excuse of a corpse back to my apartment, where I ordered a pizza because I was hungry and too tired to cook and watched "You've Got Mail" for probably the 15th time. After watching half of a Wallace & Gromit movie, I slept for about an hour and half before resuming it.

To add a shitty cherry on the worst cake ever made, I got in a fight with my best friend because I've been stressed out of my mind and it's making me act weird, and a guy I went out with last week who creeped me out basically harassed me over text for a half hour before bidding me adieu forever. Let's hope he means it.

I still feel like hell, and I'm hoping tomorrow will be better.

I can't wait to go home.

Keep it real readers.

Wrapping Up The Semester

Well, Hell Week is upon us. You know what that means.

The library is chock full of frantic students finishing final projects and cramming for finals. There is a great deal of stress eating going on, resulting in an excess consumption of TUMS.

What is keeping us going? One beautiful word: SUMMER. Summer begins as soon as all of this is is over. Three glorious months of fun, sun, impromptu vacations, staying out all night because I can, and of course the summer job.

I can't wait.

Keep it real readers.

What A Crappy Monday

I woke up on the wrong side of life today. The WRONG side. I kept falling asleep after I woke up over and over again, and when it came time to take a shower everyone else I lived with were also needing to take a shower.

My desire to actually attend class today was too great to wait, so I whipped my hair up into a half-assed version of an up-do and jeans that don't quite fit right so that I could make it to my first class without being too late.

I showed up 15 minutes late and listened to a lecture about Japanese festival music and puppet theater. Rivetting I assure you.

I forgot to sign the roll, so I have to e-mail that professor to tell her I was in fact there today.

My second class was fairly lame, but I got some work done, so that was a good thing.

I left class to embark on a break and a few bites of lunch, only to be bombarded with a wet, awful, aggravating snowstorm. It's APRIL!

I went home, screamed, swore, and spit, took off my pants, and took a nap for a half hour.

Then I had to go to work.

All of this happened during an already foul mood.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Keep it real readers.

Oh So Fraught

My life is fraught with goodness. First of all, I'm home for the Easter holiday, which as usual is amazing. My loud Italian family never ceases to amuse me. When I arrived home I was vastly over packed in an effort to make move-out day that much easier. I get a nice rush of accomplishment when I look at my huge suitcase and know that it is filled with winter clothing.

In other news, I talked to my old boss and was pleased to find out that I will be put on the schedule the Monday after I return to my parents' house for the summer. Hurrah for summer jobs!

I recently watched a movie that was about the romance between Fanny Brawne and John Keats (the famous poet). It was a deeply sad movie, as their love for one another was never consummated due to the fact that he was penniless and therefore could never marry, however, I discovered how beautiful his poetry was, and furthermore, after research of my own, I found out that their love story was indeed true, which made my heart swell with gladness. I later read that Fanny did eventually move on after Keats' tragic death at the tender age of 25 from Tuberculosis. She married someone else and have many children, but for the rest of her life she wore the ring that Keats gave her.

Pause to wipe away that solitary tear.

Anyway, life is good. I'm finishing out the semester fairly well, I'm embracing my continued delving into my own weirdness to see what I can find, and I'm going back to Art. As far as the dating life goes, not much is going on. However, my eyes are open, and I'm looking for that guy that won't let me get away with anything, who will kiss my eyes, and keep me warm on cold days.

My nights are wasted in sighs...

Keep it real readers.

Falling in love

I haven't sat down to blog in a long time, so how about I catch you up?

Well, for starters, Spring Break was last week. It was great. Very low-key, lots of movie watching and junk food, and I even splurged for a few things I'd been dying to have, like a movie and a destroyed pair of jeans that make my legs look devastating. I dyed my hair a magnificent shade of burgundy to top everything off.

I still haven't unpacked...

Also, I've begun writing a book. The subject matter is a bit personal, but in writing about it, it's become more real to me than ever before, and it's making me feel more me than I've felt in years. Letting my weird come out like this has made me feel something I didn't know I could still feel. Calm.

It's resulting in long hours of me laying on my bed, thinking back through dreams I've had as a kid, and typing as fast as my fingers can. I'm not staying in my room because I'm too depressed to come out (like last semester), I'm staying in because I'm too excited about what I'm writing to come out.

Needless to say, I'm really excited about it.

In other news, I've fallen in love. With a pastrami sandwich. It's at The Pastry Pub here in Cedar, and they use this herb sauce that I can't help but dream about. It's that delicious. I've also fallen in love with this new me that I've become. This relaxed, silly, borderlining-on-best-version me.

Dating has become something of the past for me. I'm so preoccupied with my book, and helping my best friend start a business, and actually attending class for a change, that I'm realizing I can afford this break. I know to some people I'm exactly what they want, but at least until May I am in a relationship with my commitments and education. I'm only 21, and I've got plenty of time to worry about marriage.

Anyway, keep it real readers.

The Edge of Insanity....er...Insomnia.

So, It is about four minutes to five right now...in the morning. No, I am not some masochist who gets up early. I haven't fallen asleep yet. I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep since before the last time I got sick.

So what am I doing? Laying in bed and playing on the internet. I have committed myself to staying up all night tonight, and tomorrow --er-- later today, I'm going to take a nice walk in order to get a little exercise. It's going to be a long day indeed. I plan on getting some homework done, filling out a new FAFSA, filling out an application for a summer job, spending time with my old buddy Jana, and sometime amidst all of that, catching a movie with my mommy.

I'll sleep GREAT tomorrow....I hope.

This is ridiculous. I really wish I could sleep. I'm starting to feel tired now finally, but I have COMMITTED to staying up all night in order to get back on my old sleep schedule.

Wish me luck.

Keep it real readers.

10 Minutes of Honesty

My best friend came up with an idea where we just be completely honest for 10 minutes. I thought nothing of it, because he and I are always completely honest with each other. However, after the 10 minutes ended, we hadn't really made any huge revelations about each other. Then we just started talking as usual, and that's when the real questions started.

We finally talked about when we dated. We finally discussed what happened. It made me feel better about what happened between us. Relieved, I guess.

It's weird though. I haven't told him this, but since we broke up I have had zero interest in dating. Like, for a change, I just want to focus on school and my family and my friends.

Anyway, in short, 10 minutes of honesty turned into one interesting conversation.

Still sick, but I'm on the mend. It's only six more days until Spring Break, and I intend to be well by then.

Keep it real readers.

Sick Irony

So, being sick makes me feel weirdly bitter and angry.

I went on a multi-hour rampage about how ever since I moved back to Cedar I feel like I've always been either getting sick or getting over being sick. Not so fun.

Truth be told that's not true, but I just seemed to have felt that way today. Bear in mind I'm rounding out my sixth day of illness.

I've been teaching one of my roommates the fine art of flirting, and as she's become more confident and at ease with the opposite sex, I've found myself becoming more and more asexual. It's ironic.

I can't wait until the end of the semester. It's been a long road here at SUU, and I think I'm going to take a few semesters and knock out some classes that are much cheaper and easier before I come back.

Keep it real readers.

Sick, Dying, Dead.

My second flu this winter. I can't believe it.

Thanks to cold crappy weather, a job where I touch trillions of bacteria a day, and the fact I come in contact with thousands of people a week during this, cold and flu season, I am now sitting in my parents' living room, sniffling and sneezing and coughing away, pretty much hating life.

A week ago I wasn't nearly this miserable.

Last Tuesday for dear Colby Lars' birthday, we surprised him with National Pancake Day at IHOP. Talk about awesome. Pair a free stack of buttermilk pancakes with a side of bacon, and you've got yourself a pretty wicked breakfast. Add that to getting up at the crack of darkness, on top of peeking through frost-covered car windows to see if the coast is clear for the driver to turn, figuring out how to connect to the secure wi-fi at school, surfing Facebook while sitting in my boring SpEd class, and you've got yourself a pretty awesome DAY.

The next day I felt very empty and alone. I kept asking myself why, in this whole town, I can't find myself one person who loves me, who wants to be with me. What was so wrong with me that I couldn't find that for myself? People left and right around me were finding people and falling in love and getting married and having babies, and yet, I was still single, finding younger or weirder friends.

I also started getting sick during this. And here we are. Sick.

I took two tests under the influence of codeine cough syrup on Thursday. I'm pretty sure I tanked both of them.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll be on the mend so I can actually enjoy this time I'm at home.

Keep it real readers.