I think in terms of December...

Typical conversation:

"Are you engaged?!"

"Yep!"
"Oh, congratulations, that's so exciting!"
"Yeah, we're pretty excited!"
"So when's the big day?"
"The 16th."
"Of this month?! Oh my gosh! That's so awesome!"
"Oh... no... not this month, it's the 16th of December."

I keep having to remind myself that not everyone naturally assumes that "the 16th" means December... it's going to be a long semester...

How I got engaged to the most amazing man in the world... and other such stories

I suppose everything begins with a hot Saturday afternoon sitting in Ryan's yard - having just finished a trial triathlon with his family, and discussing what we would do that night. Ryan's mom says, "Ryan, you should plan a nice date for Jen." And he says, "Okay, that sounds good." So a surprise "nice" date for me is planned for Friday. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Enter Thursday morning - and I wake up with that sinking feeling that I'm sick. Quite sick. Too sick to go to work. So I stay home, and Ryan brings me cough drops and soup, and insists I'm beautiful even though I haven't showered. Yes, I know, I'm quite a lucky girl.

Friday comes - the day we're supposed to go on the date he's planned. But I still feel pretty bad. Although he seems pretty disappointed, we decide to postpone until Saturday. He comes over and watches a movie with me, and that evening I go to bed early, and he spends the evening with his parents and a mission companion who stops by.

Saturday dawns with me feeling tired, but marginally better. I tell Ryan I feel better, but I still think perhaps we should push back this surprise date until Monday. I mean, I don't want to be no fun, or not enjoy it. However, he is quite insistent that we go. He says we'll be mostly in the car, and that it won't be tiring, and that he thinks it'll be good for me and I'll be glad I went. So I agree, somewhat reluctantly.

He picks me up and we take off in the car - armed with cough drops and a water bottle! We drive to our high school and we walk over to the sidewalk outside our old Spanish classroom. He hands me a present to open and it's a book about "our story" - which pretty much started in AP Spanish in 2007. So I read the first page, and then he says I can't read any farther. 

We then drive to a bunch of places, all places where we have memories together. And at each place I get to read another page in the book - all about how this one guy did all these things with this one girl and they both fell in love. And at each place he gives me a small gift - something that has to do with the memory at that place. It was super cute. After driving around to a number of places - Wendy's, the bowling alley, the freshman dorms, etc - we end up at the MTC - where he gives me his name tag - and I cry... I'm such a girl. Those were two good years. Long, sometimes difficult years, but rewarding, and a blessing to both of us.

Finally we start heading up the canyon. A couple times during the date, I had thought, Huh, this could be a good way to end up proposing. But I shrugged it off, because I honestly didn't think that he was ready. So we head up the canyon. At first I think we're going to Sundance - perfect ending - picnic by where our most recent nice date had been - maybe dessert or something, who knows.

Nope. We turn off at this park I've never been to before. We walk past a pavillion of people and down this little trail by the river. He opens the book and there's a picture of the exact spot we're at. At this point, I'm so confused. "Ryan, I've never been here before. What is this supposed to represent? I've never been here!" "But Jen, don't you remember?" "No, Ryan, I don't remember, I've never been here!"

"Oh... Well, that's because it hasn't happened yet."

And he turns the page over and the book continues our story, and I see the words "propose" and "forever" and I don't know whether to laugh or cry, I'm so happy, and he's kneeling down and pulling out a ring, and he said something that he apparently practiced for a long time, but I don't remember a word of it (I'm sorry, Ryan...) and I nodded, and said yes, and then he asked me if I would be his tennis doubles partner for eternity (I remember that part! inside joke) and that is how I got engaged to the most amazing man in the world. And I have never been happier in my whole, entire life!

And, like the book said, this story would normally end right here with "The end." But that's the best part of this story. There is no end.

I love him.


Viva la Vida.

New

New roommates.
New apartment.
New car.
New shoulder bag.
New semester.
New website at work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New ring on my finger that I can't stop looking at and smiling.
New last name coming up in about 112 days, 23 hours, 43 minutes.
New kitchen appliances for US, not ME, waiting in my closet.
New smile on my face that simply won't go away. And I definitely don't want it to!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Proposal story coming soon, for those of you who are interested and haven't already heard it!

The good and the bad...

Budgeting is the bane of my existence, next to the IRS - which happens to be a big reason that budgeting is the bane of my existence.

The bad news? I paid $1600 less on my student loan this summer than I had planned. That's a hefty chunk of money.

The good news? It wasn't entirely my fault. I made $1500 less this summer than I had planned. About 450 of that went to the IRS. $250 went to office closures due to university, state, and federal holidays. And the remaining $800 went to time off for a vacation - since I neglected to consider a family vacation when I planned my summer income schedule.

My sense of relief at realizing I did not squander all of $1600 this summer is pretty great - however, it's closely followed by the sense of frustration that I lost $700 to taxes and federal holidays... Especially when a significant portion of that went to Social Security - which I have zero hope of ever seeing in my bank account.

"Money talks. Mine mostly likes to call goodbye as it hurries away."

Viva la Vida. Preferably inexpensively.

Double chocolate peanut butter awesome

I had a cookie monster moment. It was fast sunday, and I saw the bag of Reeses on my nightstand, and the light went on. Double chocolate peanut butter cup cookies. Brilliant idea.

So here's the recipe I used:

Ingredients:

1 cup butter or margarine, softened 1 cup sugar 1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 egg 1/3 cup baking cocoa Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes, until you can just see little cracks appearing on the edges of the cookie. Don't overcook, it'll make them too chewy.  These were delicious. My official taste tester gets home tonight, so we'll see what he thinks. :)

2 tablespoons milk 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour 1/4 teaspoon baking powder - I put in 1/2 tsp for extra fluffiness 1 cup chopped Reeses Peanut Butter Cups (I would recommend freezing them a little bit first, so they aren't as messy when you're chopping them up)

Frustration cycle

I'm sitting at my desk, busily checking student statuses for an important project.

The office phone rings. I ignore it and the secretary picks it up. That's fine, it's not my phone. It's not my job to answer it.

Someone walks in the door. He towers over me, probably over six feet tall, and I'm sitting down. I smile politely as the secretary's phone call ends. She helps him. I keep typing numbers. He talks loudly. I realize I've typed in the same name twice. I try to block out the sound and keep working, a smile pasted stickily on my face.

Another student walks in the door. Even taller than the first one. He comes to my desk and looks at me hesitantly. I glance up, he draws a breath... I cut him off and say, "She'll help you in just a minute." He closes his mouth and nods. He stands there waiting, inches in front of my desk. The other student is taking a long time. The second student keeps looking back at me. My sticky smile melts rapidly into a grimace of frustration. My pulse speeds up.My palms are sweaty. My insides scream at me to ask what his question is, to offer to help him. I feel I'm being very rude. He's inches away, he's staring at me, staring me down, wondering who this incompetent student secretary is who won't help him. It's not my job, I think to myself. I have my own work. But I can't remember what name I was on, and the spreadsheets in front of me are blending together into one confusing mass. The first student is still talking, loudly, louder every minute, it's so loud, the second student stares and stares... I stand abruptly and walk into another office until they're gone. It's not my job. I'm not a receptionist. Over and over again, pounding through my head, but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know that there's no REAL office space for me, that I'm just sitting at the front desk looking silly because there's nowhere else to put me. He just sees another student secretary,  younger, probably, and shorter than him, who is being very rude and refusing to help him.

The noise distracts me. I can't think. Finally I return to my desk and pick up where I left off.  They're gone. I can breathe again. My pulse slows. I wipe my hands on my skirt and try to remember what I was doing when it started.

The phone is ringing again. 

Just thinking

{senior prom}

{graduation}

 

{mission farewell}

{valencia, spain}

{three and a half years after the beginning}

I love him.