Monday, December 31, 2012

Treasured Passages

For Christmas, Shelley's always really good about getting me something sentimental. This year she got me a book titled: Treasured Passages: Connecting Hearts & Histories (For Couples). Now of course, it's extremely heteronormative (targeted towards a couple consisting of a cis-man and cis-woman), but I love it nonetheless.

I've decided to be the keeper of the book, since ya know, it was my present. I've already passed out the first cards for us to fill out, read to each other on a date, and then paste into the book. The questions on my card, obviously, had me reminiscing, and I wanted to share with you.

1. What do you remember about your...
       A. First date?

           I picked Shelley up from the airport and took her straight to Equality Utah for some reason. She met Keri Jones who asked me about a woman I was interested in down at my college. That was awkward. We went to Toaster’s for lunch, and then I took her to the mall and into the bookstore. We read some kids stories, and I held her hand for the first time. It was terrifying.

       B. First kiss?

           After our first date, I took Shelley to check-in to her hotel where we went upstairs and laid on the bed for a while watching tv. She tickled me, and there was this awkward moment for me where I knew she expected me to kiss her first. She continued to tickle me where we were really close in each other’s arms. I leaned in and kissed her. I remember being really glad the moment was over and ready to move on to other things, like dinner.

       C. First argument?

            I planned a Skype date with Shelley one night. Before the date, I got a cup of coffee with my ex-girlfriend. We ended up spending a couple of hours at the coffee shop before deciding to go to dinner. I quickly shot Shelley a text in the bathroom simply saying something about going to dinner, and I’d call her later. My cup of coffee turned into an 8 hour event where Shelley ended up being ditched. Needless to say, Shelley was pissed and wouldn't talk to me for like a week. Keri Jones, and her partner Cristy, straight up told me I was a fool.

2. What was your first impression of your partner?

            She was cute. She seemed normal, and I liked how non-threatening her email was to me. Typically on websites, you just get the weirdos who immediately give you their number, but she was very casual and smooth.

3. Why did you fall for her?

             She is the sweetest person I’ve ever met. She is so incredibly validating and never judgmental. She is a great listener. When she called me out on being trans and revealed she was only curious because she wanted to be respectful of my identity, I knew she was pretty special.

4. Who said the three little words first?

             She did, on the phone. I had a trip out to Colorado in April and wanted to tell her in person then, but one night she just blurted it out. I was all smiles. Perhaps it was kind of me since I sent her "Little Bit" by Lykke Li and told her that's how I felt about her. But she literally said it first.

I can't wait to see her answers!

Our first date in March of 2010

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Holiday Catch-Up

In October,  my mother came out for a weekend to visit. It had been since February since I had seen her. We didn't really do anything monumental, and neither of us are good about taking pictures so none were taken. All I can honestly remember from her trip was that I was sort of in a bad mood the whole time because of how work was going at the time for me and because her trip was so short, I was preparing myself to say goodbye the moment she got there. Talking with my therapist about it, I told him, "We had fun, but I could've done better." We shared a laugh at how nothing I ever do is good enough for me. Essentially, I had fun with my mother but just not enough fun. And I felt guilty. I didn't want to think about her trip; I was happy to see her go. In my mind, I couldn't give her what I thought she needed, which was endless hours of Denver style fun.

Skip to November, I'm on the phone with my mother talking about how much time I have off for Thanksgiving (four day weekend). She tells me that her and my father have the same time off and are planning on coming out for the holiday. I find myself not yet believing her. This would be my first time really celebrating a holiday since moving two and a half years ago. I come from a big family (the Mormon way) where holidays are huge and eventful. I moved here where Shelley is estranged from most of her family and holidays just aren't big deals. It's been an adjustment. So, I was elated to hear that my parents were coming to celebrate Thanksgiving. On top of that, I hadn't seen my dad since November before (1 whole year ago).

They drove in on Wednesday night, got in around 3AM. We let them in and went back to bed. Thursday morning, my dad took full control of cooking Thanksgiving dinner. Oh, how grateful I was. I was dreading having to prepare such a big meal. Here's us on Thanksgiving:

As for the rest of their trip, it was just us three. It was like old times in Utah. The weekends we used to spend; dad in driver's seat, mom in the passenger, and me in the middle of the back. Off to movies, off to lunch, off to the reservoir, off to drop-in on family, off to a baseball game, off to anywhere at all. Together, all the time, happy and bickering, happy and bickering.

This time it was my town. With me in the driver's seat, mom in the passenger, and dad in the middle of the back seat. We went Black Friday shopping, and we went to grub. Just happily together, in a different place, in a different head space, better than old times. I snapped one last photo at Hacienda (everyone's favorite Mexican restaurant) before they stole away in the middle of the night on Saturday.

With the mom and the girlfriend

Before I knew it, it was already Christmas. This year I was nothing but excited. Every Christmas in the past has been incredibly difficult being away from family, but I suppose this year, I knew what to expect. 

Shelley and I spent a lot of December in our pajamas, cozied up in our bed under Christmas lights, sipping on hot chocolate.

For Christmas Eve, we decided to go to The Melting Pot and have ourselves a little fondue. We had a most splendid time. Aside from my cold I suffered from all Christmas weekend. 



Getting our drink on from the perspective of Shelley's instax mini

I had the most delicious yin and yang martini. I'm not convinced that was alcohol, rather just a delicious ice cream treat. Shelley enjoyed a strawberry daiquiri. I'm not a big fan of Melting Pot's daiquiri, too sweet, not enough tart.

Christmas morning, we opened our presents and napped a lot.

Shelley perhaps a little too excited at a pinwheel of sticky notes I told my mom to throw in with her $100 gift card. I'm telling ya, she was more excited about that pinwheel. Me with some underwear and black forest cookies. Yum-a-dum.

Top Left: Olive playing with her ladybug toy Top Right: Olive concerned?
Bottom Left: Olive trying to get into our stockings Bottom Right: Tuckered from Christmas morning

Shelley and I had a fantastic Christmas, and it was super hard to go back to work. Shelley went to a conference down in Colorado Springs. She paid for a hotel, and I stayed with her each night and just commuted back up to Denver for work. I love staying in hotels; I just love the idea of traveling, anywhere at all. 

Friday afternoon, when Shelley got back from her business trip, we got a postcard in the mail from our dear friend Duff who moved to Chicago.

    I am loving Shelley's long hair. She is so beautiful.

Now to kick off my New Year's weekend, I threw my back out at work trying to carry a wheelchair up a flight of stairs. Ice and rest, yay!

I do have plans of being a DD this weekend. Wish me luck. Not exactly my scene.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

My Ring

I got my engagement ring a couple of months ago and have taken this long to blog about it.

I bought it on etsy from a store called hersteller. Every time I look at her shop, she has a new men's rosewood ring that I'm always like, "Oh yeah, let me just move around some finances. I have two hundred dollars somewhere!"

I ordered it all the way back in April, and she got it to me finally in August. Little communication that came only after a threat of reporting her. All in all, though, this ring is effing gorgeous and I wear it super proudly.

 It came unexpected, and I wasn't sure this really was what I thought it was.

But seeing this, I knew for sure.

Box was opened

Took a peek inside

Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous

Straight on my hand

Now as far as wedding planning goes, Shelley has quite a few ideas up her sleeve. My favorite concept is doing something in October, making it bit of a Gothic theme (hence the pictures by a glitter skull and cobwebbed candelabra). But in reality, feels like we'll have twenty people show up. I don't really want to plan for that. So...I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

Here's Shelley's ring to refresh your memory.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

The Truth

A couple of months ago, I posted here about getting a new job and briefly explained the difference between a group home and a day program. I told y'all if you had any questions, ask 'em, and I'd be happy to answer them. I got one question. Typical, better than typical really. Anyway, I'll use this post to go above and beyond the question:

Kent and Leisy write:
"Kent worked for a company in provo doing the group home thing for awhile! holy smokes! what an exhausting (mentally/physically/emotionally) job!! and he had the most outrageous stories every single day. How's the day program going?! "

It ain't no walk in the park. But it sure is better than working in a group home. So, uhh...I hope that covers your question.

Keep 'em coming.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Life Lessons

I believe that we all have lessons in our lives that we have to learn and re-learn and re-learn again. Things that are barricades on our way to becoming better, wiser human beings. Things that keep us from allowing ourselves to love one another and get along.

Only 21, yet I feel like I know a couple of these that I'll spend my life struggling with. At 21, I've spent all of those years that I can remember struggling to remember these lessons.

One big thing I need to work on is forgiveness. My biggest source of sorrow is holding on to what others have done wrong to me. I will be working on this for the rest of my life, I can almost guarantee that. There are certain things from the past that I'm ready to let go of, and there are others that I am so prepared to carry to my grave. It's not healthy, and the logical part of me doesn't want that at all.

Another lesson is that I can't change people. People have the ability to believe whatever they want to believe. Even if my life experiences have told me that you're taking yourself down a very dark, lonely, sad path, I can't make you stop. I can't make you stop. I can't make you stop. All of me wants you to. All of me wants you to listen to my words. I want to control you. I want to make you stop. But for now, I will stop. I will stop trying because I'm wasting my efforts. 

Morrissey has been on repeat for days on days in this household lately. Today, I'll playback "Why Don't You Find Out for Yourself?" until it really sinks in. Hutch, you cannot change someone. They must find out for themselves.

"You'll never believe me so, why don't you find out for yourself?
Sick down to my heart. That's just the way it goes.
Some men, they know the full extent of your distress.
They kneel and pray, and they say:
'Long may it last.'
Why don't you find out for yourself?
Then you'll see the glass hidden in the grass.
Bad scenes come and go, for which you must allow.
Sick down to my heart. That's just the way it goes."

What are your lessons?

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Day Program

I talked to my friend yesterday, and she acted like I didn't say what I did for my new job in my last post. Except, she's a liar because I said I'd be quitting the group home I worked at and starting at a day program. So I guess I was being too general. There is a large portion of the population who have no idea what I'm talking about.

I was working at a group home for adults with developmental disabilities. Well, still working there. I switched to on-call, but I'm absolutely sick of that place and am officially quitting at the end of this month. Anyway, a group home is not a senior living center; it's not even assisted living. It's a house in a neighborhood that looks just like all the other houses in the neighborhood. Except, instead of having a family or friends who rent together, it has a group of people with developmental disabilities (mental and physical) living inside of it. A company hires people to come and give care to the people at the house. These duties include making meals, helping with all bathroom tasks, providing activities, assisting with whatever you do in your daily life independently, and keeping track of those daily activities as well as their health. The shifts are as normal as anywhere else (4 hours, 8 hours, 12 hours). The environment is supposed to feel like a home, not a medical establishment.

A day program for adults with developmental disabilities is taking those individuals in group homes (and the like) and giving them activities outside of the home Monday-Friday. There are people who call this place a school or a maybe a job. The day program I work at has me and two of my coworkers take a group of up to 8 people out in the community to work on personal goals and, again, get out of the house. There is another group, but I'm in a specific group with a specific amount of people. At a day program, you still assist in things like toileting and the likes.

I hope that clears things up. I'd be happy to answer any questions left in my comments. But it's not like anyone ever leaves comments.

A picture of Kim Peek, the "real Rain Man." Blogs are supposedly supposed to have lots of pictures. So, my bad for not posting more!

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

New Job

I gave my two weeks notice to the group home I've been working at since February. I start my new job at a day program on August 15. Wish me luck.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

He Remembers (A Song)

 A couple of weeks ago, a friend informed me that a dman from my past came into her work. The years had caught up to him: he was balding; he looked like his true self, a creepy pedophile. She explained that the entire time he was in the store, he acted like a cocky prick. She had already had a bad day and now this guy was here. He walked up to her register, and she said, "Grover, right?"
"Yeah! How'd you know?"
"I went to Orem Junior High."
"Oh, cool!"
"I'm Neioh's best friend."
His face turned pale like he saw a ghost, and he said, "Oh."

He knew, he knew!, this wasn't about to be a friendly conversation. He acted horrified when my name was brought up. I feel so vindicated knowing that all his years have caught up to him physically and mentally. I'm sure he hasn't paid half of what he should pay, and I'm sure he's still a mega creep. But he remembered me, and he knew he'd done wrong.

I wrote this song back in high school after having finally left the grips of him. Now even more so, this song feels incredibly appropriate.


I cut out the words that you gave to me.
Arrange them in a sentence that sets me free.
I'm sorry that it's over,
That you were unhappy.
I know you need a new victim
Every year to get you by.
And I think it's lame you use people
To get yourself up high.

I know what's done is done,
And I'm done with this all.
But I still have words to say,
And I'm gonna say them all.

I know nothing really matters
If nothing matters to you.
But what do you suggest I do?
'Cause it doesn't really matter,
No, it doesn't really matter
To you.

And I wish you would've told me
The lies you would say.
And I wish I would've listened
When they said, "Hutch, just run away."
And I wish a lot of things that'll never come
To pass.
And I'm sick of all this talk of putting off the natural man.

I know you don't care who I've become
Or who I'm yet to be.
And I know you'll never change,
And for that, I'm sorry.

Why'd you tell me that you loved me
Then make fun of me with your so-called friends?
You dress up to be used
Thinking you're using them.

Well I'm done, and I'm tired.
I haven't slept in weeks.
And I'll never say what I need to say
'Til it's done, I won't sleep a wink.

It was such a waste of time thinking,
It was me.
Just to find out four years later,
It is you who is lonely.

I'm not a hundred percent sure this post will sound eloquent. Whenever I've written about Grover, I've done it nameless and shameful. But this episode means a lot to me, and I want to remember this. With that, I've decided this man deserves to be on blast, and I don't deserve to be shamed for still feeling intense emotions towards the situation. So go read more: here, here, here, and here.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Eyes Lips Eyes

Press play now so you can listen while you read like I like to do:

In my teen years, I loved supporting the local music scene in Utah. I spent every weekend from 13 to 17 going to at least one concert. One night, this was in 2004, I saw a band called The Elizabethan Report and hit them up. They were all very nice, and that sparked a love interest for me. I messaged them on MySpace constantly. I was deemed their number two fan. I went to all of their concerts. Around 2007, when they had been going through a lot of changes, they left the scene for a little while to work through it all.

When they came back a year or so later, they had a lady who joined them. I was still digging the music but wasn't digging the lady. I went up to the merch table that first night they were back, and she was standing there. I asked to have a CD for free, and the woman said no. I was mortally offended and informed her how important I was meaning I deserved it for free. She still said no. I waited til she left the table then purchased the damn CD anyway. I proceeded to inform the band I didn't like their new member, and I wouldn't support them as long as she was in the band. Yeah, I was THAT dramatic. I went home that night and opened up their CD. At the end of the long list of names for people they thanked, mine was the very last. I was pretty embarrassed.

A long while after that, I went to see another show of theirs. This was after the lady left because even though I knew I was being petty, I couldn't give up the act. I sent them an email after the show telling them I was sorry, and they sounded great. I didn't see them again ever after that.

They eventually moved to LA, and I eventually moved to Denver. They changed their name to Eyes Lips Eyes. I followed them closely but not creepy close like before. I saw they released a couple albums and got my paws on both. The other week, I was on Facebook and decided to go to their page. I saw they were coming to Denver, and even better, it was a night that I already had off of work.

I wondered certain things like, "Will they remember me?" "How awkward will this be?" I went for it anyway. When I saw Tony, I hiked my pants up and ventured right on over. He casually said "hey" as a pleasantry to whoever this person was that walked up to him, and he did a double take. He seemed very excited to see me, and he took me over to talk to the rest of the band. Everyone seemed genuinely excited to see me. They all said they've wondered what I've been up to, and the feeling was mutual. It was such an amazing experience. I felt giddy as all get out. They put on an amazing show, as always. I was so starstruck and infatuated all over again.

I described it to my mother today as looking through a live photo album. It made every stress of the last few weeks disappear. Seriously so happy to have had that experience.

Duff and I

Tessi, Duff, and I

So excited

Tony, who got married in September, too bad?

Did you enjoy the song I put at the start? I took video from the concert if you want to watch more, here and here.

Here's their website. Here's their youtube. I'm giving you all this info because if you like them, they're trying to release a CD. It's on PledgeMusic. They've got lots of fancy pledge options, and I really want what I pledged for. If they don't reach their goal, they can't release the CD, and I don't get what I pledged for! Ahh! So please, if you like them, consider it. Here's the link.

Monday, April 16, 2012

The Ring

Things have been crazy at work. I found it odd that I told people in my life how happy I had been for a while there, and a few of them told me, "This too shall pass." I'm sorry. What the hell? Are you that miserable seeing me anything other than miserable? It was like a bad omen. I swear, the third person said it and everything started taking a turn for the worse. Anyway, that's hardly the point.

I wanted to write a post about Shelley's ring. After searching for a long while, she finally settled on one from Gemvara.

Look how cute the box is all wrapped in a bow.

The stone is a red garnet because we don't do diamonds. If you've ever watched Blood Diamond, you'd know that diamonds come from a slave trade where the diamond companies end up buying the diamonds harvested in African mountains for weapons to the guerrilla gangs that enslave their fellow citizens, murdering and raping the women, stealing the children, and making the men work all day and night with no pay and no food. (Mega run-on sentence.)

What a pretty stone now, huh?

It really is pretty. Shelley made a great choice.

I was trying so hard to snap a picture of the words I inscribed, but I couldn't get the camera to focus. You can kind of see it. It says, "In Love, Time Flies." I sing "Blue Skies" (the Willie Nelson version) to Shelley at night and when she's upset. The chorus goes, "Never saw the sun/ Shining so bright/ Never saw things/ Going so right/ Noticing the days/ Hurrying by/ When you're in love/ My how time flies." 

I'm thrilled to be engaged to the love of my life. Shelley's amazing, and I can't get enough of her. Being with her makes the craziness of my job all worth it. I'm so lucky to have her.

I'm buying myself this engagement ring soonish.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Gee Zus

Between the Mormons having General Conference last weekend and it being Easter today, all the blogs I follow have been a bit preachy. So here's something to cleanse your palate.

And don't worry, I'm just going through a phase.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

I Want My Brother Back (Song)

I've been wanting to put this song up for a long while now, and I figured I can't do so without explaining the song first. I love explaining my songs. I'm such an amazing person. No, really, I mean it. I am.

So, the song is called "I Want My Brother Back." I wrote it in my senior year of high school when my brother, who is five years older than me, went to jail for the first time. He went to jail for drug use, and my father was unfortunately the one who had to press charges against him.

I was walking out of school for the day, and my friend (Chantel) and I were walking to my car. As we walked past where I had thought I parked it, I assumed I parked it a bit further and Chantel thought I had left the campus for lunch and parked elsewhere when I came back. We kept walking without saying a word to each other. When we had gotten near the end of the row, we looked at each other and asked together where the car was.

Having had an intervention with the family earlier in the week, where my brother had his car keys taken away, my shoulders slumped and I knew the car had been taken. I was heartbroken and so pissed off. I asked Chantel to turn around with me and go talk to the school's police officer.

We went and reported the car stolen. He informed me that if we reported it stolen, when it was found, the person in the car would be held at gunpoint. He asked if I was sure I wanted to do that to a person if it was just a friend playing a prank. I stated I knew who it was, and that I definitely wanted that individual pulled over at gunpoint. Give the little prick a scare, I thought.

He asked where the car had been parked that morning, and he turned on the parking lot camera. He jiggled the view til I saw that my car was in the stall I had parked it in. I thought this was an old video and said, "Yeah, that's my car right there." Then I saw the door open, assumed it'd be me getting out of the car, and it was my brother. The video was live and sure enough, my brother had stolen the car. Up to that point, I felt I had never experienced such betrayal. The officer went after him and asked him why he had taken the car. My brother said he needed the car for a job interview. I told the officer he was a liar and never should've let him go.

He told me to go home, and he said he'd call my dad and talk to him about the car being stolen. I drove past my brother on the way home, leaving him behind to walk, with the feelings of extreme hatred towards him that I had been feeling since I found out about his drug problem.

In the time it took me to drop off my friend and get home, my father had told the officer he wanted to press charges and to go search him for drugs. When the drugs were found, he was carted off to jail. I was so done with him. My brother was dead to me and rotting in jail.

Then the worst part of all came, I had to go visit him in jail. I was terrified. Walking into the visitor entrance, I was holding both of my parents hands, hiding behind them, ready to run at any point. We walked through the metal detector, gave our ID's, and headed to the waiting room. I wanted to puke. I was so incredibly nervous and petrified.

They let our visiting group through the doors, and my parents and I held hands and walked down the long hall together. I don't remember the order of who took the phone first and which parent sat back in the other chairs lining the hall with me while I buried my head in their shoulder. Eventually, it was my turn.

I reluctantly walked up to the window and picked up the phone. We sat there exchanging shallow pleasantries as my voice and body shook and I refused to look at him. After a couple of minutes, he asked me to look at him. I looked up and began to cry. I told him I didn't want to do this. Hung up the phone and walked away, asking one of my parents to take my turn.

My mother had a second turn as I cried in my father's arms. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but my heart had broken. I couldn't lie and say I didn't care. I did. He was my brother after all. I wrote this song after that experience. I hope you enjoy it.

Sorry for the quality of sound.

Here are the lyrics:

It's been a long road,
And I think it's time for you to come home now.
I never thought I'd say it,
But I miss you
I wanted to hate you,
As much, as I could.
But I love you,
Like a good friend, would. 
I'm sorry we're at where we're at
Right now.
And I'd like to help you fix you up somehow. 
Maybe today will change the tide.
Maybe tonight you will win the fight.
Maybe today you can make things right.
Maybe tonight we'll win the fight together. 
I'd like to sit in the corner of your room and watch movies with you.
I'd like to break your Nintendo 64 when I lose.
I'd like to bring your blow gun to Sounds EZ and get kicked out.
I'd like you to play dead on April Fool's
And years later, I'll tell you I never fell for it.
Let's keep making good memories that stick. 
Maybe today will change the tide.
Maybe tonight you will win the fight.
Maybe today you can make things right.
Maybe tonight we'll win the fight together. 
Maybe today will change the tide.
Maybe tonight you will win the fight.
Maybe today you can make things right.
Maybe tonight we'll win the fight together.

Now, I don't want my brother to see this. It's been a few years since this all went down, and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate me talking about it. He says he's recovered, and I don't think a recovering drug addict would appreciate you bringing up the past. At least, I know he wouldn't. I'm still not close to my brother, so it won't be hard to keep this from him. But if you know him, don't share this with him. Please and thank you.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

A Cover

I have this remarkable way of holding onto the past. I seem to get caught up in the idea that no one has and ever will experience the heartache and betrayal that I have. I get so mad and so stuck in a rut.  I created this playlist a while ago called "Getting Over You." I wanted to create this playlist in order to avoid self-loathing and pity. It was twelve self-empowering, fuck you songs. I decided to cover "I'm Sorry, Baby, But You Can't Stand in My Light Anymore" by Bob Mould. Here's the original.

"I'm sorry, baby, but you can't stand in my light anymore.
You're moving back to the shadows.
I can't fight this anymore.


I let you get up close to me.
I let you feel the warm and the calm.
But you resisted, it took me time to notice.
But now I see the shadows as they fall.


I'm sorry, baby, but you can't stand in my light anymore."

On another note, I wanted to do a cover like Ruthie does covers, but I'm not that cool. In fact, now instead of being stuck on the past, I'm stuck on the fact that I can't do covers. I think I do write some pretty awesome songs on my own. I'll post some of those for redemption later.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

I'm Engaged

I decided it was time this January. I wanted to propose on the day of our two year anniversary on February 17th, but our schedules got screwed up. I wasn't able to make it happen. I still had her try on her ring, and it didn't fit. We sent it back, and then I got it back March 10th.

So I bought all the supplies I'd need to propose to her the way I had planned at home. Neither of us wanted anything public. I still had no idea when I was going to do it, but I was kind of ready. Friday, March 16th, Shelley's mom explains that she's going to one of her church events and wouldn't be back til later. I told her to stay out as late as she could, and I got busy throwing everything together. I had an hour and a half to decorate the stairs, hallway, and bedroom with rose petals, heart sayings, and the 96 mini candles I bought.

Shelley called saying that she was off of work and on her way home. I got super flustered since I hadn't come up with a way to keep her out longer without frustrating her. I had nothing, no excuse. I wasn't done. She needed to stay out, but I didn't know what to say.

"I'm on my way home."
"Don't...just don't even...Ahh, just...okay, cool. I need to go!"

I haphazardly finished the rest of the decorating. She came home, and I had to beg her to stay downstairs. I would take her to dinner in a bit, but I had some private things I needed to do upstairs. Except it didn't come out like that because I thought she knew what was going on. So it was more:

"Hey honey, are we going to dinner?"
"No! Just sit down. Just...stop it. Don't even think."

I told her to not think because I know that a) I have no poker face and b) she can read right through it. Anytime I try to keep a surprise from her, a certain behavior overtakes me, and she guesses what's going on. So, don't even think. Stop thinking about what I might be up to because she's probably right.

I went upstairs and had to light 96 candles. Not sure if you've ever tried that amazing feat, but I was sweating and in a panic.

I kept shouting down the stairs, "do you know what I'm doing?"

At one point, I told her I was doing a home remedy treatment for hemorrhoids. Super romantic, I know.

She responds, "Why?" 
"I'm trying to embrace my inner hippie."
"Do you have one of those?"
" Just give me a minute!"

She claims that she was wondering if I was getting ready to propose. When I came up with that excuse, she was thrown off my scent.

So I finally finish, go into the bedroom, close the door, and ask her to come upstairs. She comes up the stairs where there's hearts hanging (and on the ground) of reasons why I love her, along with the rose petals and candles. I hear "ooh's" but mostly "ahh's." She opens the door and the ring is sitting inside a heart made of rose petals on the bed.

"What's this?"
"Do you want me to get on my knee?"
"What's this?"
"I'm not getting on my knee."
"Hug me."
"Shelley, will you marry me?"
"Put it on. Put it on."

She swoons for a while. We throw the mess from the hall and stairs into the bedroom so the dogs can come out. We leave for dinner at Famous Dave's. We chowed down, ran some errands, came home and went to bed. It wasn't even sort of the romantic night I had planned, but it was perfect for us.

Sorry for how long this is, how scatter brained, and the terrible use of punctuation.

Here are pics.

 The stairs leading up to the bedroom.

View of the loving hearts hanging


Dresser with candles

The bed of roses, Morrissey looking on with approval.

A little closer

Stolen from this song "Where have you been, darling?" on the floor right before the door.

  "We've been holding this moment for you." on the door.

Also, the exciting thing about our engagement date of March 16th is that that was the day we met in real life. So the date still had some meaning. Yay.

Monday, March 5, 2012

I Died!

I love Morrissey so much. He's my idol, and I just can never express enough what he means to me. Oh my goodness, he means everything. My friend just posted this on FB, and I died! How sick.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Be Nice!

The more I learn about myself, the more I realize certain traits are here to stay. I am driven by emotions; empathy and sympathy. If you can make me feel for you, I will follow you anywhere. Nothing gets my feathers ruffled like the story of an underdog. I see a person in need of help, and I feel it's my responsibility to give it. I get so enraged by mistreatment, especially to anyone who can't defend themselves. And today, I couldn't take it. I just couldn't take it!

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Always Love

For no particular reason, I'm really feeling this song tonight.

"I've been held back by something/
Yeah, You said to me quietly on the stairs/
I've been held back by something. ...

Always love/
Hate will get you every time/
Always love/
Hate will get you."

Here's a link to the rest of these beautiful lyrics. If you want to hear more Nada Surf, I promise you'll really enjoy them. Here's that link.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

My New Job

I'm not honestly sure how much I can mention on my blog since there's supposed to be some level of confidentiality. I thought I'd tell you all a little, though. I got a new job caretaking adults with developmental disabilities. It's a pretty good job. I make decent money, and more than anything else, I watch tv and change diapers between commercial breaks. It's not glamorous, but it's a hell of a lot better than Garbanzo ever was. I'm excited to be learning new things and to be in a job that will at least open up other, better doors that won't be taking me back to working in a restaurant or retail. Probably shouldn't say that; I'm jinxing myself. I probably won't talk about it a lot more in my blog because the things I enjoy discussing are not jobs.

But remember in my last post how I said I'm not sure special education is my chosen career anymore? Yeah, I'm like a hundred percent positive of it now. I really need to get back into school and figure out what I want to do. Until I figure out what I want to do, I'm not gonna waste my money taking classes for fun. So I guess I should say I need to figure out what I want to do and then get in school (not the other way around.) Maybe y'all can help me peg what it is I want to do. Let's give it a go.

This is not necessarily in order.

#1. Theology Professor

He says, "Why not?"

#2. Lawyer

 But like, the good kind. Do they exist?

#3. Architect

Am I smart enough? There's a lot of math in that. I guess the question isn't if I'm smart, it's if I'm motivated enough.

#4. Real Estate Agent

Maybe? I promise if you help me realize this dream, I will make this face when I sell my first home.

#5. Interior Designer

Three things: Can you tell I've been watching a lot of HGTV at my new job? This must be where all these house career desires are coming from. 2. Yes, they're coming from that. But I have thought about interior designing before then brushed it off as unrealistic. Let's keep in mind, I'm not looking for totally realistic anymore. 3. This is David Bromstad. His show Color Splash sucks.

#6. A Colorado Police Officer

 This is a joke! I'm still annoyed about that ticket.

#7. Event Planner

When I heard that this was a career, I exclaimed I needed this job! I've planned lots of events, and I've loved every single second of it -- even the stressful seconds. There's such a reward in pulling off an event. So, I have to say theology professor, event planner, and interior designer are my top three choices right now.


Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Change of Heart

I started writing this in October, and I never finished. 

Keep in mind, I'm not currently enrolled in school. However, I want to be. The more I think about it, the harder it is to convince myself to go. What am I going for? To get a degree so that I can get a job. That's a joke at this point. What college students are graduating and getting their dream jobs anymore? Very few of them, and those that do need to feel very lucky. So if that's my reason to go to school, then why would I be going to school at all? Totally valid question, totally valid point. Right now, school doesn't make sense.

As I've come to terms with school not being an option for me right now, and at times thinking it won't ever be an option, I prepare myself to work towards becoming management and dealing with back breaking work for little pay the rest of my life. I can't help but think that doesn't always matter. If I go into work with a good attitude, I can mostly enjoy my job. Not a soul enjoys their job all of the time. I come home to a life where I can turn off work and enjoy what I do outside of it. I'm lucky, and the money thing doesn't matter. I just need to pay my bills and survive. I'm not homeless; I'm not starving; I'm not deprived in any way (regardless of how lavish my lifestyle is compared to how it used to be).

Now that I've been preparing myself for that kind of life, I'm thinking some of my other thoughts about school aren't following suit. It's time to change that.

Declared major: Special education. Excellent. Exciting. Worthy of my time. Not sure it's what I want. I can't figure out for the life of me what age group I want to teach. I don't want to babysit preschool and elementary age. I don't want to deal with middle schoolers entering puberty and tween girls coming to me for period advice. I don't want high schoolers because I just don't want them. I'm seriously enjoying children less and less. I think the special education teacher is more of a volunteer type thing. I love helping out how I can, but I do not want to make a career of it anymore.

There is something that just keeps nagging at me. Nagging, nagging, nagging. I push it away because of money and job security -- which just doesn't make sense anymore. It's Theology. Since I started studying Mormonism more closely in institute classes at the age of 14, I was enthralled. After leaving the church, my interest never wavered. I want to know about every religion out there. It's all fascinating to me. It is my biggest passion in life, and I constantly wonder if that's what I should study in college.

I keep wondering what it is I can do with a theology degree, though. I could stay on the teacher path and teach as a professor. However, being a professor is a difficult job to come by and requires a ton of schooling. I could do a double major as theology/english and become a writer perhaps. Again not a lot of job security or monetary status in that profession. But why do either of those things matter? Seriously. Who cares if theology is a practical degree. I would get a kick out of studying it. I don't know, though. We'll see.
Now that I have a new job, one that I need to update you on, I really am becoming convinced that special education is not my dream. I love politics; I loved law class in high school; and, I still love the study of religion. Maybe I can try to become a professor of theology. I'll figure it out eventually.

By the way, if you read my last post, you saw that I said I wished I had pictures to post with it. Well I got some pictures up, so go back and check them out.

Monday, February 13, 2012

A Visitor!

My mother came to town last week, and it was wonderful. I'm still kinda sad that she left. Sometimes when I think about it, I tear up a little. I'm one hundred percent a mama's boy.

She was supposed to come out on Friday, but we got a huge snowstorm in Denver. The damage was 18 inches. Flights were cancelled and roads were closed. My mother did not make it in on Friday as planned. I was upset as expected. Hysterical really, but we won't get into that. My mom rescheduled her flight for Sunday morning and leaving for Friday afternoon. It was a half day more than I would've gotten if she came in on Friday as planned. So in all reality, it worked out better.

Once I had picked my mom up on Sunday, we came back home. Deb had made lunch for us. After lunch we played cards and just talked. Shelley came home from work late, and then we went to Red Robin for dinner. Monday we went to Celestial Seasoning Tea Tour. It was pretty boring as far as I'm concerned. The rest of the ladies loved it (my mom, Shelley, and Deb). Lots of tea was purchased afterwards. We'll never need to buy tea again. We went to Hacienda for lunch, and my mom said it was her favorite thing we'd done during her trip. We came home, hung out and Deb made a roast for dinner. Tuesday, we went to Egg and I for breakfast. Then we went to Denver Museum of Nature and Science. I love that museum. We saw an IMAX while we were there about pterosaurs. It was actually pretty creepy. Wednesday we went shopping and did all sorts of stuff. Thursday, we went to Canvas and Cocktails. Also my mom's favorite activity while out here. Friday, she helped me redecorate my bedroom. We went to Chili's for lunch, and she left me. So sad.

Actually kinda funny story, as we were driving to the airport, she told me how impressive of a driver I had become. She mentioned something about how I'm not much of a speeder. On my way home from the airport, I got a speeding ticket. Wow. Thanks for jinxing me, mother!

 On our way to Celestial Seasoning Tour. We're very expressive, emotional people.

Checking out the Butterfly Nebula at Denver Museum of Nature and Science.

Learning about our Earth at the museum.

Me and my mom

Shelley looking through a telescope.

Me and my mom again. Do you like my new doo?

Gained some antlers while at the museum. You can see how they tie me down.

We had too much fun.