Don't Let Your Wives See This...

... because then you're going to get an earful.

This morning I rolled (or fell, rather) out of bed. I trudged my way downstairs to eat some Cheerios. I took time to take in the scenery. The dishwasher was full of clean dishes. Some dishes sat in the sink with remnants of last night's pudding. And random pieces of mail and other paper items were scattered from here to there. So, of course, I walked past all of the scenery and made my way to the shower. After a nice, super long, super hot shower, I felt almost ready to face the world. I walked into the bedroom. The bed was made—blankets neatly folded at the foot of the bed. I walked to the kitchen—It was clean, and the dishes were being put away as I walked by. I took a few minutes to make myself somewhat presentable for work and walked downstairs to gather my things—My car had been started, scraped off, and was waiting for me.

Ahhhhh.... this is the life.

Now some people say, "Oh, you're newlyweds. This will wear-off soon."

Nope. I've known this man for 4 years, and this is how he's always been. As friends, we went with a group of people to stay at a cabin. Guess who was up before everyone else making breakfast for the group. Guess who stood out in the pouring rain to grill the chicken for everyone for dinner. As a friend, guess who started mine and other friends' cars for them so they'd heat up for a cold, winter drive. That's right, my husband. He's just that kind of guy. Always has been. Always will be. Hate me if you want. Or find one for yourself (unless, of course, you're married.)

How did I get so lucky?

Ch-ch-ch-Changes

A few weeks into marriage and I'm noticing some big changes all ready. The biggest of which has been the switch from a "pre-marriage ward" (a.k.a. singles' ward) to a family (a.k.a. retirement ward). No, I'm not joking about the retirement. The boundaries of our current ward include a retirement community, a small neighborhood of condominiums, and a small set of townhomes.

So essentially, I will be going from this:

U32 Ward End of Year Slideshow - 2009 from Tanner Christensen on Vimeo.

To this:

Yikes.

A Time for Sharing

So the husby and I are looking for some new traditions to start this holiday season. We have only thought of a few so far. Those include:

• Exchanging new pajamas each Christmas Eve
• Sleeping under the Christmas tree (he doesn't care so much for this one... especially since we have a Charlie Brown Christmas tree)
• Making Dutch Babies Christmas morning (some family tradition from his father involving yummy pastries)

As you can see, our list is rather lacking.

What do you do?

What should we do?

I can't wait to hear your ideas!

I'd like to take this opportunity to cry.

I'm sitting at my desk in my office, drinking Diet Coke, snacking on Sixlets (mostly just the orange ones) and Hot Tamales which I began eating at 9:00am, and listening to Jimmy Eat World's "Last Christmas" on repeat. My eyes are puffy from crying for almost 10 straight hours yesterday and I'm so tired.

Last night I had a dream that a gal pal of mine was over at my parent's house visiting with me and my mom who happened to be in just her underwear. We realized we'd left the front door open and a man named Paul Bunyan, who looked eerily similar to Santa Clause, slipped in the front door while his wife who was almost 7 feet tall like her husband waited on the porch. I refused to believe that he was Paul Bunyan and I ran upstairs to call 911 on my cell phone. After a few attempts, because I couldn't remember the number, I finally got through to the dispatcher— Donny Osmand. He told me to believe in this man; if he said he was Paul Bunyan, he probably was. Then he closed the conversation with an inspiring line that I don't remember exactly. It was something like, "Chase your dreams. Which I recognized in my dream as the title of his just-released biography. I hung up on Donny, angry. I marched downstairs to find Paul Bunyan had made friends with my family. I was angry and kicked him out. He then lifted our house off the ground and set it back down on its side to prove to me he was, indeed, Paul Bunyan. I felt horrible for not believing him and ran after him as he was leaving to beg his forgiveness... he immediately transformed into Santa Clause and told me to be a good girl this year.

That's about how my brain is functioning these days. I am a zombie. My whole life is changing. Everything I know and have known for years will be different. I am completely in love with T.M.I.G.T.M. and couldn't ever imagine being with anyone else or trying to live without him. But marriage is hard, and scary. I never wanted to be married until I met T.M.I.G.T.M. Never. This is a huge paradigm shift, and it came rather quickly. My logical brain isn't sure what to do with all this change and these emotions. It's really hard. And I cry a lot, which I never have before. I know how to be single, I'm good at it. I don't know how to be married— trying new things makes me uneasy. My brain is mush and I feel like I can't completely be my normal self until I've settled into this transition. I so badly want normal life. And normal dreams, for that matter.

Here's to the wedding being over and hoping for a speedy mental recovery from all of the change!

The First Real Date

For those of you who have been following my story, I want to apologize for the delay and excite you for the next installment... about my first date with T.M.I.G.T.M. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you should probably call in sick to work and invest a few good hours in reading the following posts. Then we can talk.

The Meeting

The Friendship (Phase the First)

The Friendship (Phase the Second)

The Evolution

Also, if you're wondering what on earth T.M.I.G.T.M. stands for, I can clear that up as well:

The man I'm going to marry.

I'm avoiding using his name in an effort to preserve some privacy in my life. Not that sharing every intimate detail about my life on this public blog helps my case much. But it's like eating a slice of wheat bread for every five slices of white bread- it at least makes me feel like I'm trying.

And now, to begin today's story, "The First Real Date." May the spirit of Dean Martin's music assist me as I tell my story.

The night T.M.I.G.T.M. came to pick me up for our first date, I was so nervous. I had been all sorts of confused for so long about what I was feeling for him, though I knew I was feeling something. I was so excited to be going on a date, but was trying to remain level-headed in case it was just a friend date. I had been on one too many of those in my single lifetime. He picked me up and we went to dinner at a local hot spot, Mexican restaurant. I was a little apprehensive about chowing down on the chips and salsa like I really wanted to— I was nervous. I never got nervous around T.M.I.G.T.M.!! We had our usual pleasant conversations before and during dinner, but it just seemed so surreal that I was on a date with my friend of all these years. I wasn't sure where to place my thoughts and feelings. Then we went to his place where he said he had a surprise. My mind was racing. I was hoping that he wasn't going to do something over-ambitious like so many other boys had done in the past— something too big that assumes a relationship, when I wasn't sure what I was thinking/feeling. But I was also hoping that it was something telling; something to let me know he had interesting in dating me.

We walked into his back yard as he carried a number of pillows and blankets. My mind was everywhere from, "Geeze, this is awfully bold of him to do something involving pillows and blankets on our first date," to, "I hope whatever this is will give me an opportunity to be close to him and test the waters with flirting." He laid out the blankets and set the pillows down. He was grinning from ear to ear and kept checking his watch. He reassured me that it should be happening any time now. I half expected his roommates to crawl out of the bushes in costumes or something. But, alas, after a few minutes, I heard a loud boom that shook the earth and saw any number of colors bursting in the sky. He turned to me and said, "This is to make up for the fireworks we didn't get to watch together on the 4th of July."( In case you forgot, that was the night he left me to sit with another girl.)

We laid back to enjoy the show. I was careful to lay close to him, but not too close as to seem presumptuous. At one point he offered his shoulder for me to lay on. So I did, but kept my body at about a 45• angle away from his. I was not going to make a fool of myself if we were just friends! The show ended and we stayed out back to talk and check out the beautiful, clear night sky. Somehow we both ended up on our stomachs searching the sky for the little dipper, whose location we couldn't seem to agree on. He would lean in close to point out different constellations to me and I'd find myself wondering, "Is he going to kiss me?" But then he'd pull away and continue to talk... and I'd feel silly for wondering. I had decided after some time outside that it was a wonderful date, but that he was by no means going to kiss me that night. I was silly to think he might. It was, after all, the first official date he has asked me on for which I had consented to join him.

Then just a few moments later, as he pointed out another possible location for the little dipper, he leaned in close to show me, then lifted my chin and kissed me. That's right, we kissed on our first real date. And it was wonderful. But it was four years in the making, so I think it was justified. I couldn't believe that I was kissing my friend. It was strange and wonderful all at the same time. Later, T.M.I.G.T.M. would tell me that he was waiting for me to lean back and smack him, telling him that we were just friends! Now I kind of wish I would have.... :)

And that concludes my version of our first real date... or at least all what I'm going to share with you. Stay tuned for the next installment, "The Courtship (Shorter Than Most, But Long Over Due)."

Until next time, Interweb.

The Evolution

Post-Europe friendship was different than our friendship had ever been. T.M.I.G.T.M. and I spent more time on the phone 'til the wee hours than ever before. We were communicating more and more during the work day (don't turn me in). I began to feel as if my day wasn't complete unless I'd talked to T.M.I.G.T.M. Then there was my super fun birthday dinner with a big group of my friends. T.M.I.G.T.M. was out of town on a project for work and I was sad the whole time that he wasn't there. I went home and spent a couple hours chatting with him at the end of the night. We talked about the girl(s) he was dating. I was still genuinely interested. And we talked about the boy(s) I was dating. He was genuinely interested. But mostly we just talked about dating and how much easier it would be if the people we dated shared our views and opinions on dating. I remember getting off the phone and thinking to myself, "It's a shame T.M.I.G.T.M. and I could never work out."

A week or two later I realized that an event for which I had purchased tickets for months earlier, was the following weekend. T.M.I.G.T.M. helped me work up the courage to ask a boy to go with me... a boy that I didn't know well, but was a friendly acquaintance at church. I had thought the boy was a cutie for some time. I asked him to join me, but he informed me he was going to be out of town that weekend. I was almost relieved that the boy couldn't go. I approached T.M.I.G.T.M. after an Institute class and said (very smoothly, I'm sure), "Would you want to go with me? I really want to go with you. I should have asked you to begin with." At this point I was surprised by two things: the realization that I really only wanted to go with T.M.I.G.T.M., and the positive, excited response which he gave.

The day of the concert came and I was so excited. I made us some treats (yes, Muddy Buddies) and got ready to go. T.M.I.G.T.M. came to pick me up and we were off. We met my sister and her boys at the concert. We sat on the lawn and enjoyed a wonderful concert. I laughed so much that night. I was impressed as T.M.I.G.T.M. took my nephews at intermission to get them hot chocolate. It felt so natural and so fun that T.M.I.G.T.M. and I should be on a date. It didn't really hit me until the ride home when I was hit with the tireds quite like I've never experienced. I rested the long drive home while he took care of me and drove us home. I felt very content.

The next day, I still didn't think much of my feelings for T.M.I.G.T.M., but I knew that I wanted to see him. Just as I was thinking of him, he called my phone and made plans to go the fireworks with me that evening. He came by my house and I invited him to join my family (briefly) for some BBQ deliciousness. We left for the fireworks and met a large group of our friends. I laid our blanket out and struck up a conversation with some nearby friends. A few minutes later, I noticed that T.M.I.G.T.M. was not only gone, but seated by a cute girl (who I had been encouraging him to date). I felt weird. But I kept talking to avoid the feelings. Then the fireworks started and he came my way... just to get his jacket... then went back to sit by the cute girl. I wanted to cry and I didn't know why. I felt angry, sad, confused, all at the same time. Why did I care that my friend was sitting by a cute girl who I had been promoting to him? The fireworks ended and I gathered my things. T.M.I.G.T.M. came over to me to tell me how much fun he'd had sitting with the cute girl. My heart sank to the very bottom of my stomach. I was sure I was going to hurl. I immediately broke out in a nervous sweat. WHY DID I CARE? T.M.I.G.T.M. told me of the after party he was putting together, and I asked him if he minded taking me home first. I gave no explanation, just that I needed to go home. Then I immediately called my girl bff and freaked out!

The next week T.M.I.G.T.M. and his bff were gone for a few days hiking King's Peak. The morning he returned, he called me. He asked what I was doing that night, and I made up some options. I asked what he was doing. He replied with, "I'm going on a date." That response was followed by the longest awkward pause known to man. I took a second to gather my wits and remind myself that I was his friend. I then made a bold move. I asked him who his date was with, trying to sound as interested as I could. He replied, "With you."

The Friendship (Phase the Second)

The comfort of the casual friendship between T.M.I.G.T.M. and myself lasted for sometime. I always thought highly of him, but didn't think much more. Because we'd both had our many chances at dating, and our fate was sealed as friendship, or so I thought....

Sometime in 2007, T.M.I.G.T.M. and I started to spend more time together. We relied less on the group for our friendship and a little more on one another. We were friends— really, really good friends. Our chats started to be a little more revealing of our inner psyche, and my fondness for T.M.I.G.T.M. as an independent friend entity grew more and more. I began to go to him more with my boy problems and he came to me more with his girl problems. He earned himself the position of my go-to male friend whenever I needed a boy's perspective on any and everything. T.M.I.G.T.M. dated and had serious relationships with a girl or two during this phase. All the while, I was by his side as his friend. I knew I would get a phone call from him as soon as something of consequence happened in the relationships. I was happy to be there for him, because I genuinely cared for him. At this point, not once did I feel bad about not being an interest in his life. My role as his friend and confidant was satisfying as I made life-changing discoveries in my own life and changed career paths. I was thankful for the stability of his friendship during a time of change and upheaval in my life.

Last summer T.M.I.G.T.M. highly recommended that I date his bff and old college roommate, which I did. He was a great guy. He was similar to T.M.I.G.T.M. in so many ways that I automatically felt comfortable around him. In fact, it sometimes felt like I was dating a slightly altered form of T.M.I.G.T.M. We had a fun time dating. We went on double dates with T.M.I.G.T.M. and his girlfriend. It was really fun. I loved having my boyfriend and my best friend at the same time.

Months flew by, and trouble arose in paradise. I discovered that the bff and I weren't a permanent match. I couldn't ever put my finger on it, there was nothing wrong with this boy, but it was wasn't clicking in my head. All the while T.M.I.G.T.M. maintained his close friendship with me and my ex-boyfriend (his bff).

Even more months flew by, again, and I dated various boys, while T.M.I.G.T.M. dated the same girl. Sometime after that, T.M.I.G.T.M. broke up with the afore mentioned girl. I never did hear the details of the breakup because I was out of town, and I'm okay with that. All I know is that I came home from wherever I was and T.M.I.G.T.M. was ready to jump back into the single scene, and I was right by his side to support him. We continued on with the usual frienshipping, all the while, progressively spending more and more time together without even realizing it. Neither of us had intentions of dating one another at this point. We simply knew that dating sucked and we thoroughly enjoyed spending time together.

I specifically remember one night, last spring, in an Institute class when I sat next to T.M.I.G.T.M. I was having a handful of small boy troubles that were piling up to be super annoying. I passed a note to T.M.I.G.T.M. saying that I was going to take a leave of absence from my dating life while the dust settled. And he innocently wrote back, "What dating life?" I, of course, was offended as he hurried to explain that he wasn't aware of any dating activity going on in my life. I reassured him that there was plenty of dating going on, but that I just chose not to share. And then I pouted for a few hours.

About a month later, T.M.I.G.T.M. and his bff were planning a road trip to which I was explicitly not invited. However each of my best friends were. In a rage, I confronted T.M.I.G.T.M. in the hall after church and told him how absurd I thought it was that I wasn't invited on my ex-boyfriend's trip. And he proceeded to tell me that I was being a brat. From that moment, I began to notice T.M.I.G.T.M. in a slightly different light. He stood up to me. He called me on the carpet. None of my guy friends did that to me. I got away with being a brat all the time. But not with T.M.I.G.T.M.; he knew me. He knew that I was a brat and needed to be told that in order to understand the situation. Although I couldn't show it, I respected him more for standing up to me.

He went on the trip... kept on dating various girls. I went to Europe for a while... dated various boys. I received one email from T.M.I.G.T.M. while I was away in Europe... to inform me that he was dating a cute girl that knew me. Somewhere deep down inside of me, something began to simmer.... and I went on with my life.

I returned from Europe late on a Saturday evening. Because of the jet lag, I never slept that night and was up bright and early for church the next morning. I walked into the first meeting to find one empty seat next to T.M.I.G.T.M. I was greeted with a surprised look, a warm smile, and a big hug. I'll never forget that hug... though I didn't realize the significance of the hug at the time. Somewhere deep down, the flame began to grow just a little bigger.

And our friendship picked up right where it left off a month prior.

The Friendship (Phase the First)

My last installment of my love story, entitled, "The Meeting," recapped details about how the man I'm going to marry (T.M.I.G.T.M) and I met. Our story is, by no means, on its way to becoming the romance novel of the year. But it's our story and it's a good one. "The Meeting" ended with T.M.I.G.T.M asking me out a second time and being turned down (regretfully) because I was dating Butthead.

As the months went by and I continued to date Butthead, I didn't give much thought to T.M.I.G.T.M. I do know that I saw him every now and again at church and social functions. We small-talked here and there, nothing too memorable. I broke up with Butthead and was back in the single scene full-force. However, Butthead had taken a toll on my confidence and I was a bit skittish around boys. I actually started to become better friends with T.M.I.G.T.M.'s roommate and friend. Roommate and I enjoyed talking politics and opinions of higher ed policies. It was because of this friend that I actually started hanging out with T.M.I.G.T.M. A gal pal of mine would come along with myself and the two boys. The four of us hung out a number of times. We would go out to eat, sit around and chat, hit up parties, or play "The Game" (my made up trademark of a card game.)

As the group of us spent time together, I began to wonder if I had a crush on T.M.I.G.T.M. I wasn't too sure of myself at this time in my life. I wasn't sure if my interests were sincere, or if I was needy and emotional after the breakup. So I stuffed any thoughts of interest in T.M.I.G.T.M. into the back of my head. Plus T.M.I.G.T.M. seemed completely indifferent towards me. He was as nice to me as the next girl, but gave me no significant amount of attention or time. Over a number of months our friendship stayed neutral and somewhat removed. We called to notify one another of parties and other social events, but never to spend much time chatting or really getting to know each other. At one point in this phase, T.M.I.G.T.M. actually asked one of my good friends on a date. So I completely wrote him off.

It seemed as though I was content to be his not-too-close friend, and he was content to be mine. And we went on with our lives, dating various people, but not each other, always coming back to our friendship when the so-called relationships ended.

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

[Awaiting results of pending couch purchase.]

The Meeting

Many people ask you how you met your fiancé once they hear you're engaged. I'm not sure if it's something they really care to know, or just one of those things you ask as as a formality. At any rate, here's the story... according to me:

It was a dark, cold, stormy night... Okay, that's not completely true. But it very well could have been because it was December, almost 4 years ago in 2005. I had graduated from WSU the spring prior and was almost half way through my first year of teaching 3rd grade. One weekend night in earlyish December, a couple gal pals and I decided to go to a holiday party to meet some cute, new single faces of the new singles ward of which we were attending. I was 22, in over my head at work, and not loving the idea of introducing myself into yet another "meat market" to be on display as one of the "new girls" in the ward. As soon as we arrived at the party, I found a nice spot of carpet where I could sit and be anti-social. A few boys who I had previously met stopped by my corner to say hello. I very nicely blew them off and continued to groom my section of the carpet with my hands.

Eventually, two nice-looking, friendly young men came over to join me on the carpet. It was obvious that they were good friends, and that they weren't going to just say hi and let me blow them off. They were a welcomed change of pace. One of the boys faded out of the conversation, and the boy who would eventually be my fiancé stuck around on the carpet for a good amount of silly, pointless, fun conversation. I don't remember much of the conversation other than the fact that he made me guess his last name, which I thought was ridiculous and hilarious, all at the same time. I left the party having met some nice people and didn't think any more about any of the encounters from that night.

A week or two later, I got a phone call from the boy who made me guess his last name. He confessed that he had asked my friend for my number and proceeded to ask me out on a date. I don't remember why or for what reason... but I was "busy" the night for which he requested my company. A month or two went by. I would see this boy at church, say hello and have some small talk here and there. One day after church, this same boy approached me and asked for my number, after he admitted he deleted it after the first attempt. This time I declined him again... because I was dating someone (who turned out to be a total butt head, by the way.) I remember feeling disappointed. It was a "gut" feeling. I was really surprised at how disappointed I was to not be able to go out with him— especially because I was dating a "great" guy and this boy wasn't a boy that I would have consciously picked out at that time in my life. I can still remember, today, that sick, disappointed feeling... and then blowing it off.

And over the course of the next almost 4 years, this boy and I became great friends. He wrote me off as a possibility and I figured I'd blown my chances with him. This allowed us to get to know each other without any pretenses about dating. And what a great blessing that has been to our relationship... to really know each other at our best and at our worst, before we ever started dating.

This concludes my version of "The Meeting." Please stay tuned for future installments of the story of how two friends fell in love.

Drum Roll Please....

For those of you who don't already know, THIS is who I am marrying:

November 21, in the Salt Lake temple

We have been good friends for almost four years. How (you might ask) do two good friends end up falling in love and getting married? Well, the answer is simple. And I will tell you... another day. I don't have time to get into the details right now, so stay tuned!

The Wedding vs. The Marriage

I want to be married to Dan— a lot. I don't want to plan a wedding. It's only been a week or so into the planning and I want to wash my hands of it and just twinkle into married life. I have never thought about a wedding, I'm just not one of those girls.

Apparently I have to have a wedding in order to be married. Would somebody please plan my wedding for me? Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top!

Something New to Blog About...

For the past couple of years, I have been blogging about a lot of things: vacations, family, work, memories, but mostly dating. This blog has served as an outlet for each and every dating frustration of mine and of others. Let me take a moment to thank those who have endured my many dating-centered posts and especially those who left comments of empathy. And I do mean empathy. Dating is really difficult, and I think it's supposed to be that way. As my dad has always reminded me, nothing worth doing is easy. And to this phrase, dating has stayed true. But every once-on-a-while something good happens in dating to remind you why you're doing it in the first place. It isn't because you don't know anything different, it's because you want to find someone you love who loves you back. And that's not an unworthy goal— it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's easy to get lost in the dark abyss of first dates, dead-end relationships, and awkward break-ups and to forget to enjoy dating and to enjoy the search for someone to love.

[cue "Somebody to Love" by Queen]

I claim to be no expert on dating. I developed a talent of flying by the seat of my pants in dating over the years. Worked for me, but not the best option for everyone. However, I am please to announce that in addition to dating, I will now have a new topic of which to blog.... MARRIAGE! I'm engaged and I couldn't be happier about it. I will have all sorts of new adventures to post and new stories to tell.... and new insights on relationships. And for those of you who fear losing the enjoyment of my single life stories, never fear. I have kept years of journals and notes for just this purpose, entertaining you.

I have intentions of posting more details about the exciting news, but I can hardly keep my eyes open. So, stay tuned for juicy details of how two best friends fell in love (but not too mushy, 'cuz I'm just not that girl).