It literally took 30 years, but I’m finally engaged

It’s true.

 

Andrew proposed to me at the James J Hill Library in downtown Saint Paul on June 19th, 2018. I’ll always remember that date, because I’ll always remember that I had my first real date with a man (after a long-term relationship with a not-so-great breakup) way back in 2010 on June 19th. It must mean something. Maybe I’ll have a kid born on that day in a few years.

He had conspired with a couple ladies at the library (and my friend, Amanda) to make sure that it was documented and memorable experience: He said that we should go out to dinner and go to the mental health exhibit at the MN Science Museum, and I had mentioned to my brother that ‘he better be proposing’ because he had been bugging the shit out of me to make sure I had that day off work. Then as we got downtown, he said that we should just check out the library because we were right there. I had shown him photos of the library months before saying that it reminded me of Beauty and the Beast.

We went into the library and were told that the stairs were blocked, so we’d have to take the elevator up to the second level, which we did, and starting walking around looking at all of the insane books/collections. When we got to the far end of the room and turned to look out at everything, he started saying that he wanted to start a new chapter with me as he got down on one knee. I instantly started crying and said yes – or I nodded yes? I was in shock! After we stood there hugging, crying, looking at the ring for a few minutes, Andrew told me to look across the library at a reading area where a woman was sitting – that woman was my friend Amanda, and then he pointed out a guy with a camera – that guy was Amanda’s boyfriend, who was taking photos of us the whole time.

I told you – well-documented and memorable.

Oh, and the ring he gave me was one that I’d shown him on etsy at some point. This guy pays attention to me.

Ten days later, we had set a date. By July 7th, I had ordered a dress. We had booked a reception/dinner location by mid-August, and I’d had a photographer in mind for like, years.

We ended up deciding on doing a family-only ceremony somewhere and then a dinner/non-traditional reception with everyone afterward. We’re getting married on Friday the 13th of this year – 91319, a palindrome (’cause we nerdy like that), just a couple blocks from where we lived when we first moved up here, and, oh, there’s a full moon that night. And the dinner location references a black dog.. huh.

tenor

It’s definitely a blessing and a curse to have the date set so far away from the engagement – we’ve gotten so much done so early and haven’t had to feel rushed with anything. We got the hotel blocks booked, the photographer booked, I knew who would do my hair, I’ve found someone who will do my makeup; my dress took about seven months to come in, so I’m glad I had the time to wait for that.. but then at the same time, I’m impatient as all hell. And there are some things that just have to wait – flowers, hair/makeup trials, sending invitations, booking a honeymoon, figuring out transportation, etc. Which can also be a bit frustrating or just nerve-wracking when I want to get things done NOW.

Maybe writing about it will help – I think I’m going to try to do updates as time goes on, as things get accomplished, as nerves start to fray haha but honestly, I don’t think I’ll get too stressed.

I say that now.

What Is Life

Almost a month ago, I spent my last night in Omaha.

Most of my things were moved already, and all that remained were a few odds and ends, and my furniture.

The morning of the big move, I was seriously anxious. What was going to go wrong? What was going to get broken? What if this happens? What if that happens? I was also very emotional, even though I tried my hardest not to be.

My parents showed up to say goodbye; mom was a bit weepy and, of course, my dad says the things I always need to hear: I am worthy, I deserve everything I want, I can do anything I want to do, and I am loved. So, there went the tears. My brother showed up a bit later and stayed with me until just before I hit the road. He helped calm me down and let me know on his way out how well the moving truck was being packed. Phew.

The drive up here went by quickly and slowly at the same time. I got caught in five o’clock traffic just two miles from my exit and I was absolutely livid. I just wanted to be there!

That evening, and the week after, are a total blur of unpacking, buying shelving units and other fun IKEA things, building said things, hanging photos, organizing the kitchen, organizing the closets, etc. Oh, and sleeping poorly because one huge window in our bedroom was missing blinds. Waking with the sun every morning, regardless of when I went to sleep the night before, was aggravating as hell. And didn’t really restore me for a new day of work.

By the next week, we were already looking at puppies to adopt. I got Andrew caught up in the search and essentially all of our texts consisted of puppy photos all day. We knew we wanted a bigger dog and we wanted to adopt a rescue. In looking at the adoption process, I got discouraged. An application, an interview, references, a meeting, a home visit?! Jesus Christ, are we adopting a child? Applying for a government job? I had no idea it was so thorough and difficult. I understood and completely support the method behind the madness, but for those of us normal, decent human beings who aren’t going to chain the dog up outside 24/7… ugh.

We ended up applying for a dog that we totally fell in love with and then got denied because another couple was ahead of us in the process. Then we applied for a couple more and the same thing happened. At this point, I’m going, Jesus Christ, I’d almost rather pay double to just get one from a pet shop. But instead, we applied for a few more.

Finally (I say, finally; it was probably like, within a couple days), we got invited to go meet one of the puppies. He was adorable and cuddly and I think Andrew was pretty goddamn set on him. We fell asleep that night discussing ridiculous names, such as: Sterling The University of Nebraska Cornhuskers versus The University of Iowa Hawkeyes… [last name].

We communicated to the foster mom and the lady from the shelter that we indeed wanted this little pup… and then we never heard anything from the shelter.

Then, in true things-happen-for-a-reason fashion, the day I was bitching about the lack of communication and consideration, I got a call from another foster mom about another puppy we’d applied for. Apparently the people who wanted her were having trouble coming up with the adoption fee (red flag, much?), so if we want her, she’s ours.

I think this was a Wednesday. We set up a meeting for Friday, we filmed a home video (in lieu of a home visit) Thursday, we drove an hour to meet her Friday, and that night, we brought her home.

Meet Olive Adventure (and insert heart-eyes emoji):
Olive Adventure

She’s a (now) nine-week old Shepherd Mix. We aren’t sure what she’s mixed with, but we’re pretty sure that it’s a wirehair of some kind. She’s a joy and a laugh and a little shit and a snuggler and a whiner and so sociable and sweet. She’s super outgoing; she’ll go up to anyone and any dog. She wants to play with everyone. She doesn’t like being hot and will whine (kinda like me) and she has recently started fording the stream in the park across the street.
Olive in the stream

Andrew and I are now ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’ and we’re just totally in love. (Cue: ‘awww’)

We’ve had her a week and a half now and, well, she’s exhausting. ‘Daddy’ is at work five days a week, so ‘mommy’ has to do the most potty breaks and cleaning up accidents and trying to get her to stop biting or chewing on absolutely everything. Not to mention, she’s up with Andrew when he gets up for work (somewhere in the neighborhood of 6am). So yeah, I’m getting a spa afternoon on Thursday lol

Adding to the frustration, I’m getting paranoid about my dwindling savings, so I’ve resumed the job hunt… again. I’m being fairly goddamn picky because I just am, but I want it to be within walking distance (which isn’t a huge ask, seeing as we’re downtown), part-time so I can be home with bb most of the time, and not a receptionist or food service job. Actually, what I’d really like to do is some writing from home. If only I could get myself to finish that ‘novel’ I started.

I’ve also resumed the fitness journey. Buzzfeed posted that circuit workout a couple weeks ago and I’m on the third week today. You’re supposed to up the weight each week; I started with 10lb dumbbells. Because the tiny rec in my building didn’t have 12s, I had to go straight to 15s… And to be consistent, I need to use 20s tonight. I’m a tad nervous I won’t be able to do it all, because I also have to up the reps by two. I don’t know how much physical change I’ll see in two more weeks, and I haven’t weighed myself because fuck the scale, but who knows. I’ll prob just keep going with it and eventually be curling 50s LOL

Anyway, I love Saint Paul. I keep saying it’s like Omaha and London had a baby because it really does feel like home and the city I adore. Our apartment is brilliantly located a block from the train and ten meters from the park, a few blocks from the river and a half-mile from Starbucks (win). There are a bunch of microbreweries and awesome restaurants within walking distance and anything else is on the trainline. I probably came up here with 6100 miles on my car, and I noticed the odometer read 6171 today. So, about seventy miles in almost a month? Not fucking bad.

The only driving I do now is to the chiropractor, which is still only about seven miles away. It’s a different technique than I was getting in Omaha, but apparently, this is the next step in my treatment that makes the most sense. Here’s to hoping I get back to 100% after a couple months of this. I got really emotional when I had my consultation with the new bonebreak. It just dredges up all of the accident memories and memories of all the pain. It’s almost been a year and I’m still dealing with everything. Thank God for Andrew, seriously. What a loving, caring, thoughtful support system I have. I’m embarrassingly lucky to have him. And my family, holy shit.

Tell me, what is my life without your love? Tell me, who am I without you by my side?