Divorce.

Even as I write this, I look in the top right corner of the blogger dashboard and see the name Andrea K., along with a picture of me in a wedding dress in front of the church doors. Just another lingering part of my life that I haven't changed back yet.

So, I've been gone awhile. First I was too busy planning the wedding, then I was too busy being "happily" married, then I was too busy with married life, then I was too busy getting divorced. Or maybe too ashamed, or maybe too distracted by whatever else I could do to avoid writing this post. I don't know.

This is a tricky blog to write because there's a very fine line between how discreet or open I can be, and how much information is too little and how much is too much.

Well first of all, at this point, I'm sure my divorce is no secret. Between Mike posting angry messages on Facebook and the fact that my Facebook name is back to my maiden name and all photos of me and Mike are removed from my Facebook, I'm sure everyone ever knows I got a divorce. I wonder if my friends gossip about it the way I did to so many other people. "Did you see that Andrea got a divorce? She changed her name back! Do you know what happened? Who left who? They were only married a year! She got married too young. She got married too soon. I knew this would happen!" Words and phrases I threw around so carelessly about my acquaintances. I wouldn't be surprised if they were said about me. Or maybe people are more compassionate, just hoping that I'm okay. I don't really know, and I guess I shouldn't really care.

So, I guess I want to talk some about the past four months of my life. I left Mike in the first week of January. I was legally divorced through the court system in early March. I didn't commit the dates to memory and I have no desire to look them up. I'd rather not remember them, honestly. It's bad enough that December 28, 2011 will be engrained in my memory forever and will continue to pop up in places for the rest of my life.

I should never have married Mike. That's the honest truth. I was looking to settle down, because it seemed like the right thing to do, and when I met Mike he was a nice guy so I thought he was perfect. Mike also had always wanted to find that true love, so we both clung to each other and, despite obvious flaws, completely ignored them and pretended everything was completely perfect. And then the marriage kind of just... fell apart. Fights about stupid things, grudges held, and.. what's the phrase the courts use? The marriage was irretrievably broken? I mean, maybe at first it wasn't, I don't know. Maybe I should have spoken up sooner when I was unhappy. Maybe I should have tried counseling or something. And so many people talk about marriage being forever, marriage being hard, how I gave up too soon, but, if marriage is that hard, that unhappy, then I don't want it. I spent months feeling trapped in my life, resigned to unhappiness because marriage was forever. I didn't think there was a way out because I was so against divorce. On many levels. And I was afraid of my family not forgiving me. And I was proud, too proud to admit to everyone that told me to use caution when I ignored them and rushed into a marriage with a man I'd known all of 16 months.

In economics, there's opportunity cost, I think? My one economics professor said to us that, not just in economics, but in all of life, you do ANYTHING until the cost outweighs the benefit. Whenever the cost begins to outweigh the benefit, you change. And I guess that's how my marriage was. One day I woke up and realized that the cost of staying, my unhappiness, all of it, was not worth the benefits. So I came home from work, I told Mike, and I left.

I think alot of people, Mike included, thought that was easy for me. And for anyone that follows me on Facebook, for anyone that doesn't know me well, for anyone that thinks that was an easy choice, I want you to know right know: the morning I woke up after leaving Mike was the worst day of my life, without a doubt. I woke up in my friend's guest bed. I couldn't go home to my apartment, because I'd left. I couldn't call my parents, because I was scared that they'd disown me or yell at me or something terrible. I felt more alone and cut off than I ever have, and all I could picture was Mike's face from the night before. I pictured him sad and alone, and I sobbed my broken heart out. The biggest debate I had in the whole marriage was that one morning. I wanted to go back right then and there,  I wanted to live the rest of my life unhappy in my marriage just to take the look of betrayal and heartbreak off of Mike's face. And the only thing that kept me rooted to that bed was the belief, deep down, that he could do better than me. I honestly believed, and still do, that I am not right for him and he will be happier when he finds someone more suited to him. And so I cried it all out, feeling even worse knowing that I had caused that pain and could never, ever fix it. I cried all day. I sat at my friend's kitchen table and the tears just poured down my face. I cried until there were no tears left, and then I just sat. And I woke up the next day and cried again. By day three, I was just so emotionally exhausted that there were no tears left, just a hollowness.

The next two months weren't easy, either.  My closest friends, who were mostly just shocked and confused at first, were there for me, no matter what. And I did tell my parents, and learned that they love me much more unconditionally than I believed. And when I told them more about my unhappiness, our incompatibility, they were more understanding than I would have thought. And I found an apartment, and I got all my finances taken care of. I fell apart for a little, quite alot, actually. There were some days that I looked ahead at my future and the rest of my life and I honestly believed it would never get better, that I could never be happy. Some days I just went through the motions and didn't want life to go on. Some days, I read the angry, bitter texts Mike sent and I honestly believed what he said about me.

But little by little, I'm getting better. I relied on friends and family, I asked for help when I needed it, and I stopped caring so damn much about what people think, whether they are friends, family, acquaintances, enemies, strangers, etc. My life is my own. And despite what anyone else sees or thinks or believes, nobody else really knows what is best for me. I might not always know, either, but I do know that if I'm unhappy nobody else can tell me that forcing myself to stay married will eventually lead to happiness. Or anything about my life, really. It's my life, and it's too short and too precious to waste being unhappy because it's what other people want, in any decision I make.

These past few months have stripped me of my identity, my beliefs, my pride, my self worth, and who knows what else. But they've also started me on the path to rebuilding it, and rebuilding it better and stronger. I was helping a friend repaint a room, and it's kind of like that. You start with this dingy room. First coat of paint looks awful, and the trim looks weird, and it's a mess, second coat is clearing it up, and by the third you've got this new, pretty, bright room. I started out a mess, and learning to rebuild my life looked worse before it looked better. But it's definitely looking better.

Anyways, this is a ridiculously long post, and if anyone actually read the whole thing, props to you. If you want any more details on my divorce, message me privately. While I have to be discreet on a public blog, I have no issues being very very open in a private message, especially given all the openness my ex-husband has been willing to use against me on Facebook. That may be a bit catty of me or something, but at least I'm not refusing to share because I think people will think I'm catty, you know?

The July Fourth Fire.

So I've been moping lately, mostly out of boredom. And here I was, moping, trying to think of something to do when I realized that I hadn't blogged in a long time. Also, I hadn't ever written out the story of the July Fourth fire, which is even more important since my blog was originally used to tell stories of ridiculous situations in which I found myself.

So this July Fourth, Mike and I invited over our friends, Leah, Daniel, and Kate, and Leah and Daniel brought their friends, Nelisa and Nelisa's boyfriend whose name I do not remember.  Anyways, we spent alot of time sitting in the living room socializing. To make socializing time better, we had locked the cat in the bedroom since he is really annoying and I think someone was probably allergic to him (wish it was me.)

Anyways, Mike went back to use the bathroom or something, maybe just to check on Max since Mike worries about things like that. The rest of us are sitting there when suddenly this awful, ear piercing electronic shriek starts piercing the air. My first guess was that the security system that we had unplugged (because it made, loud, annoying shrieks) had started up. In the few seconds it took us to look at each other confused with our hands over our ears, Mike comes running down the hallway at top speed.

Now, before I continue, flashback to two hours prior, when I had candles in very tall jars around the house to make it smell less like cat and more like mangoes. I decided to leave one lit in the bedroom, thinking nothing bad could happen while we were still home. While doing some last minute cleaning, I put a stack of towels on the dresser next to the candle.

Back to Mike barreling down the hallway. He yells something. "WHAT?!?" we all reply. Mike's response was something along the lines of  "THERE'S A FIRE!" (though it may have involved some words that I don't feel comfortable writing in this blog.) Mike then ran to the kitchen and began looking through the cabinets.

Me, always keeping a calm head in the face of disaster, yelled at everyone to get outside (I think this is what I did, I honestly probably did no such thing and they were smart enough to go outside on their own.) Assuming Mike was looking for the fire extinguisher (I found out later he was looking for a large-ish glass to fill with water, since he doesn't keep his head in the face of danger,) I ran to help. And went straight for it under the sink. Then Mike, Kate, and I ran to the bedroom. The fire was fairly small and situated on top of the big dresser. Our lovely cat knocked the pile of towels in such a way that they fell into the candle jar and ignited. If it weren't so small, I probably would have run away. As it was, it was large enough that I forgot to take a picture with my iPhone, a detail that pains me to this day.

Because the smoke detector is ridiculously loud, I know there was alot of yelling at the top of our lungs. I'm not sure what Kate and Mike were saying, but I know I was saying, "I CAN'T GET THE PIN OUT OF THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!" Kate poured some water on the fire, and I think Mike was just yelling at the fire. Anyways, about ten seconds later, I got the pin out of the fire extinguisher and covered everything within a ten foot radius in a pile of thick yellowish powder. (I always thought they blew out a gas that extinguished the fire. Wrong. It is a messy, messy powder.)

Unfortunately, extinguishing the fire didn't help, since the fire alarm was still making our ears bleed, so I had to remove the battery. Mike found Max (hiding under the bed) and we all went outside to find everyone else, none of whom had called 911 (thankfully.) I collapsed on the ground and let out a noise between laughing and crazy from the adrenaline still coursing through my system.

And that is the story of the July Fourth Fire.

My first ever letter to an editor.

I don't think I mention what town I'm from on my blog alot in fear of internet creepers. The time is past. I grew up in Deland, Florida. Anyways, recently, Dustin showed me an article that UF wrote about Deland:

http://www.alligator.org/sports/article_5b555186-039f-11e2-a896-001a4bcf887a.html

Please read it. Or at least the first half. I was a bit annoyed. I wrote a letter that explained my point and also voiced my annoyance quite clearly. Dustin proofread my letter, removed the annoyance, rewrote and added a few key passage. Below is our defense of our hometown.

In response to Friday’s article about Mike Gillislee running with purpose, I would first like to say that it’s good to see Mike acknowledged for his hard work. However, I am a bit offended by the portrayal of my hometown, DeLand, as inescapable and marked by dangers and daily perils. I realize that the negative representation came largely from another’s words, so I would like to take a moment and share some of mine.

I was sent this article by my brother, a UF alumnus. Both of us grew up in DeLand, attended DeLand High School, and went on to get college degrees. Our parents still live in DeLand, and my husband and I are planning on moving there one day. While there is a rougher part of town, it should not serve as a symbol of DeLand as a whole. The view that “everyone around the city does drugs” is far from the truth, and the idea that DeLand is inescapable only applies to those who don’t have the motivation to get up and leave.

For those who choose to stay, DeLand offers high school graduates the opportunity to attend a well-regarded university. Stetson University, founded in 1883, is located in downtown DeLand, and the campus is classified as a national historic district. Many of my friends attended Stetson, and some of them even chose to stay in DeLand to begin their careers, in spite of the “people around here that sell dope and shoot. It’s not the right place for anybody.” How unfortunate for them!

DeLand High School has an engineering academy and an International Baccalaureate Program, offering many opportunities for students to excel. Those who aren’t “A+ students” can attend Daytona State College, the local community college, and receive their AA degree before moving on to a university, as I’m sure many UF students do.

Being a Florida State University graduate, I am used to trash talk from University of Florida students. I have been hearing it since I first attended FSU in 2007. While I can at least understand why UF students like to poke fun at my choice of colleges, I am hurt to see my beautiful, friendly, quaint hometown misrepresented based on the words of one person whose part-time job at Captain D’s isn’t enough to get him out of the town to which I’m hoping to return.

I commend Mike Gillislee for making something of himself, and I am proud to say that I am from a town where people are given a shot at something greater, regardless of their circumstances.

Sincerely,

Andrea Kanis

I know Deland isn't perfect. But I am proud of my hometown. 


UPDATE:

I would also like you to read a letter written by my friend Kailey:

Dear Mr. Pincus,

DeLand. Seriously? Home of the historic liberal arts college, Stetson University? Sky-diving capital of the world? Proud film-set of The Waterboy??

Maybe you've just watched one too many episodes of The Wire (which is understandable, great show), or maybe you're just going off hearsay (which is less understandable, when interviewing NCAA athletes/cousins), but DeLand was probably not the town to pick for sensationalist depictions of "perils and dangers." 

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad Mike "found his way to Gainesville." 

I also found my way to Gainesville, where someone was shot in a student living apartment complex last year. Gainesville has a 2010 crime record of 6,325, including 4 manslaughters, 86 forcible rapes, and 617 aggravated assaults. Still, I count my blessings. I'm no longer in a town where people only, "sell dope and shoot."  Mike's cousin was articulate enough to get the message out about that. Preach it!

Don't get my wrong - I have no hard feelings here, Adam. I make fun of DeLand all the time for it's small-town quirks and awkward mesh of intellectuals and rednecks. But please. Take it from someone who grew up there: DeLand High's football practice field is next to a shop called "Buttercup Bakery."

Anyways, gotta run. Back to saving up enough money to get my helpless parents and younger sister out of that struggling hell-hole! 

Best Regards,

Kailey Moffatt

 

Why I run and count calories.

Well, obviously I do it to keep in shape and whatnot. But alot of times people give me crap if I say I'm worried about my weight. "But you're thin, you don't need to worry about weight!" "Oh, you're fine, stop thinking about it." Other things like that which frustrate me. Well, I currently am thin, but that's a product of me being careful about food and working out.

When I was home this weekend, I went through all my school pictures. I tell people quite frequently that I was a chubby kid, and they either don't believe me or tell me everyone went through an awkward phase. Thus, I have posted below a small collection of photos of me throughout my life. Not as many as I had, but enough to give you a good idea. Keep in mind that I took pictures of a print with my iPhone.

Three years old. I think I'm all that.

Second grade. No front teeth. So many freckles.

Fourth grade. My first pair of glasses. I loved them.

Fifth grade.

Somewhere between fifth and sixth. This picture makes me laugh.

Sixth.... Glases, braces, side part hair (which wasn't cool in 1999.) Just before my growth spurt.

 I skipped 7th and 8th because the pics weren't readily accessible. Seventh is a slightly thinner version of above. In eighth, I got bangs. I didn't get contacts and braces off until ninth:

Freshman year of high school. Decided not to take my retainer out for the picture.

Sophomore year of high school. Black eyeliner is cool. I had such a circle face...

I also liked black shirts alot. And didn't believe in any sort of skin makeup.

Senior Portrait!

High School graduation. My face shape there is actually the same as now.

 And there you have it. Me throughout the years. There was a pretty awkward phase there, which I'm sure we all have. More than anything, I just wanted to post a bunch of pictures of me online somewhere that wasn't facebook.

Updates.

Life has been calm lately. Calm and normal, which I like.

Running has become a normal sort of thing that I look forward to. This morning, I ran four miles. It is a monumental first for me. It took 52 minutes, which I think isn't too bad, but I'm not really sure. Dustin would say it's terrible, my nice friends would probably say it's awesome. Whatever, I think it's fun.

I might try to go vegetarian for a week. I always used to say I never could, but lately, I've been having full vegetarian days without even realizing it, mostly just because I've been trying to eat leftovers or didn't have any meat readily available. Black beans are one of my new favorite foods. Black beans and rice, black bean soup, black bean chili, etc. Oh, and sweet potatoes. It'd be interesting, maybe.

I visited Jacksonville last week. It was alot of fun.

I'll be in Deland again soon.

There's just not alot going on lately.

Running.

I have disappeared for awhile. It's been a busy few months, and what with it being Leah's last few weeks in Tallahassee, I tried to spend extra time with her. She is now in Virginia with Daniel. I could write an entire blog post about how depressed I am because of this, but that would not correspond to the title of this blog, so I won't dwell on my sadness.

I got burnt out from the Couch to 5k plan for a bit, mostly because it was just too hot in the afternoon to run. Then, I finally decided to start getting up early and working out before work. Before the wedding, I would go to the apartment complex gym before work every morning. I hated it. I realize now why: 1) It was way too dark at 6:30 am in the winter. 2) The walk was freezing. 3) I hate working out indoors (which I never knew till I started running.)

I've always been a morning person. I appreciate getting up with the sun and seeing the day before the world wakes up, while the sky is still getting lighter, the birds are chirping, everything is covered with dew and the world feels fresh and new. (Except for that one foggy morning, when the humidity was 100% and everything was stifling and still and it felt like 90 degrees at 6:45 am. That morning was somewhat less pleasant.) Running in the mornings is invigorating (mostly.) It gives me a chance to appreciate my favorite time of day in the outside world and helps me wake up. I start the day feeling more alive and more grateful for the beauty of nature after having spent a good half hour in it first thing after I wake up. I would try to recommend to everyone to get up earlier than usual, even if it's just 5 minutes, and go stand outside on your front porch or outside your front door. Appreciate the world in the morning--it's beautiful. You won't regret it.

Anyways, my workouts have improved. I also signed up for my first 5k on September 5th, which has been motivating me. Also, I want to tell you about my workout this morning.

Let me preface with this. I was never an athletic person my entire life. Some people can just up and run a mile whenever they feel like it. In 2011, I could maybe barely run a mile, involving alot of gasping and pain. In my entire life, I have never run two consecutive miles, and have in the past few months been able to run two miles with walking breaks only. Well, friends, this morning, just to see if I could since I've been improving: I ran 3.1 miles. That is correct, I ran a 5k with no walking breaks. I'm so darn proud of myself!

Now, to humble myself appropriately: it took 41 minutes. I was running between a 13 and 14 minute mile average, which is not a super impressive time, according to runners and whatnot. But, it's still a good starting place.

I'll probably start blogging more again, especially now that Leah is gone and Kate is gone and there is nobody left in Tallahassee. Woe is me.

A Long Post about a Book Review.

I've written about the year I spent playing WoW. I think I've hinted more than once about how I get hooked: I won't play a video game until it's complete, or I'll watch a TV series obsessively until I have finished. These obsessions will interfere with my eating, socializing and sleep time. Of my obsessions, there is one that I indulge in less than the others, because it is far more addictive than any of the others: reading. Once I have started an interesting book, I will not stop.

Note the use of the word, "Interesting." I do not read good books obsessively, I read interesting, though sometimes bad books.

Leah had been pushing me to read The Hunger Games and I refused because I did not want to be drawn in while so busy with work. Friday night I was bored and wanted to read. However, I wanted to read something that wouldn't draw me in, since Mike and I were visiting his parents for Saturday through Monday. So I decided to read a book that I had both heard criticized and criticized myself. I figured I might as well read it so that I had a basis for my opinions. Friday evening, I began reading the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer: the love story about a teenage girl and a vampire with a werewolf and whatnot.

By Monday afternoon, I had read all four and a half books (the fourth was an incomplete re-writing of the first book from another point of view.) I spent the past week re-reading them, just because they were that interesting and I wanted to see if I missed anything in my semi sleep deprived state last weekend.

So, I would like to give you my opinion of these novels now that I have read them and can back my judgement.

First, let me say this: Anyone who thinks that these books can even compare to any Harry Potter book as an idiot. Twilight is good as one thing only: a romance. It is a chick flick in novel form. Harry Potter is a story of good vs. evil, of making the right choices in hard places, of fighting adversity because it is the right thing to do, even when it is not the easy thing to do. It's one of the best kinds of stories there is. Twilight is about a teenage girl finding her true love and falling head over heels. It's comparable to Wuthering Heights or Romeo and Juliet (possibly because it makes those comparisons within the book) though it is not as timeless or universal as those stories. However, it does focus on the same silly sort of self-destructive love. (Note: This is a bit of a stretch comparing this book to more timeless classics: I focus ONLY on the fact that all three center on such a strong love. I know that it in no way lives up to these books. Don't think that I'm saying that at all.)

As a romance, however, Twilight is exceptionally good. It's definitely enjoyable for those qualities: finding true love, being uncertain because of a rival for your love, high school drama, marriage, etc. I think it was better because I had such low expectations and have read far worse interesting books. As long as you take it as a romance and don't expect it to live up to anything more, it's good.

My biggest criticism, honestly, would be the audience to whom it is targeted: teenage girls. As an adult with a somewhat clearer head, it is easier to distance myself from her story. As a teenage girl, however, it is teaching no more than this: find true love. Even if you're only 17. And don't be afraid to turn your life on all of your friends and family just for this one single person (even if this person is somewhat dangerous... maybe especially so.) I do not want any teenage girls I know believing this, especially having once been a teenage girl. I would prefer them believe that they should be careful about finding true love and that they remember that having friends is especially healthy when you are in a relationship.

I also watched the movies: they , unfortunately, were as bad as I had heard. The first one had me laughing in the wrong places: the acting was terrible and most of the dialogue just felt awkward to watch. By the fourth one there was some decent background music, CGI and acting lessons, so it wasn't quite so painful, but still: the movie characters lack the vibrancy that the book gave them.

Anyways, after having spent 8 days wrapped up inside of this story, analyzing it and coming to these conclusions (and having already discussed them with Mike and Leah and Jess,) I can finally stop mulling over them in my mind because I have written them down in this blog.

Sometimes I think that's why I have this blog: so that i can stop thinking about something in circles in my head.

Anyways, I'm not proofreading this, I've just written as I thought and posted it.

List 10 things you would hope to be remembered for.

First of all, I would like to point out that the writer of this list ended that sentence in a preposition, which is a huge grammar no-no that I have recently discovered. The correct phrasing would be, "List ten things for which you would hope to be remembered."

I've been delaying this blog, only because I'm not really sure what ten things I would choose. I'm not sure of many, honestly. I'm not ambitious. I don't want to be famous. I have no desire to win awards or make a name for myself or even really change the world. I mean, I hope I do good to the world, but I have no desire to go fighting for some sort of massive change in the system. I am not that strong, charismatic, or brave. I've often thought that I could never be a hero in a novel. While I would often like to dream that I could be like some of my favorite book characters--ready to save the day, not afraid to stand up for good, etc.--I know that, despite my good intentions, I'm just far more average than they are. I wasn't born with that strange quality of uniqueness that is necessary to be great. Or I just don't want it enough-- I don't really know.

I've only ever wanted a loving husband, children, a happy home, and good times with friends and family. Given that, while trying to think of ten things for which to be remembered, I could only think of one.

I want to be remembered as a kind, loving person.

I don't want to be great. I don't want to change the world. But, of the people I do touch, I hope that I can be remembered as kind.

What do you think people misundertand most about you?

Ha. What don't people misunderstand about me?

With my close friends, I think they get me fairly well. For people like coworkers: I think I often come across as cold, disinterested, and completely engrossed in work. This is because I am shy, afraid of looking awkward or needy, and I like hard work. Even in every day life with friends, now that I think about it, I'm silent alot when I should say something or be comforting, but it's just because I don't know what to say and I feel uncomfortable. I come across as unfeeling by my silence, but really I just am not as expressive as I wish I could be.

One reason I've stopped blogging is because I don't want to talk about work. I mean, I really want to talk about work because it's what I do 9 hours a day, but talking about work on a public blog is a big no in my book, so I'm left with not much of an idea of what to say. Work has been busier, since it's a busy time of year for us, but I'm enjoying it.

Running, which used to be a dreaded activity, has become one of my favorite parts of the day. I look forward to getting home from work and spending a half hour listening to music, letting my mind wander away from the troubles and concerns of the apartment, of work, of life, and just feeling my heart beat faster as I just run my anxiety away. This week has been rough: after completely rocking week 6, I assumed I'd be great at week 7. Wrong. Day 1 was terrible since Mike and I had gone hiking for a few days before (is my excuse) and day 2 was terrible because I had eaten too soon before (I'm not lazy, I have a legitimate reason!) Either way, I think I'm repeating week 6 starting Friday before moving on to week 7 again. Oh, and my diet is all gone bad, so I have to remotivate myself to watch calories again.

On a related note, I made sugar cookies today. Baking has always been so soothing, and since I didn't get my workout in by running, I made sugar cookies. They're one of the few cookie recipes that I have all the ingredients already. They look beautiful and taste a little strange; I think something's gone wrong with the sugar. But Mike is enjoying them nonetheless.

Tomorrow is the end of my list, and thus the end of reasons for me to write blogs. I'll have to remember to motivate myself just for the sake of writing.

Oh, I took a personality test:

http://www.personaldna.com/report.php?k=PHVmEPOVOeyHDQW-AN-AACAA-c2ce&u=4d17b6f411db

Just scroll to the part with the little bars talking about my personality traits. 

What is your love language?

First of all, the five love languages:

Physical Touch: People who know they are loved by hugs, hand holdings, a kiss, or some sort of physical touch.
Gift Giving: People who either like to receive or give creative, thoughtful gifts. For them, it really is the thought behind the gift that counts.
Quality Time: People who just enjoy spending time with the one they love. That is how they know.
Acts of Service: People who will do nice, helpful things, or feel loved when nice things are done for them
Words of Affirmation: People who express love verbally. They need to hear words of love to know they are loved.

Now, for me. I am very much a quality time person, followed closely by words of affirmation. I can just be sitting in the same room as Mike and I know he loves me. Likewise with my family; I spend time with them, more than anything else, to show and feel affection. A close second is words of affirmation: I very much like to talk about being loved.Mike is very similar. His love language is also quality time, which is very nice for us. We can just hang out together and feel very fulfilled, even if we aren't doing anything interesting. Like video games, or movies.

I started this post two days ago. I'm back to it now. Today, I felt lonely. I am starting to more keenly feel the loss of Leah as it approaches and have tried to reach out to make friends at work. Unfortunately, I am not good at making friends, at opening up, or sometimes even at holding conversations. It's probably half in my head, but I'm pretty sure I am frequently the awkward one in the group. I'm still trying, though.

Anyways, I'm running again tomorrow. I've started week 6 of Couch to 5k, so that should be fun.

What is your favorite part of your body and why?

I've been avoiding posting because this is a strange question that cannot be answered without some vanity. Also, work has been busy; this week, my promotion took place and I now have more job duties. It's kept me busier. I also had to attend a training session last Saturday and am required to attend an event next Saturday, so no visiting parents in April.

I dislike at least something about any body part that I would like; however, I guess I'd go with my smile, even though it's not really a body part. However, I've got good teeth thanks to my parents' spending on braces, and I've been complimented more on my smile than anything else, which in turn makes me like my smile very much. Smiles are also just so happy! Random fact: I have some freckles on my lips. I'm a somewhat freckley person, and apparently lips can get freckles. Freckles is a weird word.

I only worked out twice this week. I had a brief cold in the beginning of the week, so Wednesday I repeated day 2 of week 5, and Saturday I completed day 3 of week 5, which was jogging for 20 minutes straight without a break. This is quite an accomplishment for me, who couldn't even run an entire mile in high school.  I'm thrilled with the progress I've made, even if it has been slow.

Mary is visiting next weekend, so I'm looking forward to that! Oh, and I broke my iPhone screen. Not bad enough that it can't be used. But since I have to switch from AT&T to Verizon (off of my parent's plan and onto my husband's) I need a new phone anyways. I'm considering a Droid; though I've loved my iPhones dearly, my husband, parents, and brother all have Droids. We'll see what happens.

What popular notion do you think the world has most wrong?

I am going to talk about two, both of which are related to this notion of self-entitlement.

First of all. I have seen both a blog and an article lately about two women, both of whom had happy marriages and lives. Both of them decided that they just weren't happy or just weren't in love and decided to get divorced. They decided that their purpose in life was to go off seeking some sort of self-fulfillment that they just weren't feeling from their marriage.  Now, I know I haven't been married long, and I know that I don't know their whole stories, but there seems to be this mindset nowadays that if we aren't jumping for joy every second of every day, if we aren't constantly feeling the thrill of new love, if we aren't being swept off of our feet by love and adventure every day, well then, life is just not right! News flash. Movies are movies. Real life is pretty boring. Doesn't mean you need to go off on some selfish search of fun.

Second of all. The workforce. Everyone seems to think they are entitled, Mike included, to regular promotions and raises just by sitting in their desk and doing adequate work every day. News flash. We are in a recession. Businesses are stingy. And, if you are just doing enough to get by, you have earned a C in class. Tell me, why does a C deserve some sort of big raise? If you want big results, put in big efforts. Don't just expect awesome things to happen to you when you aren't even trying. Additionally, don't you dare complain about the lack of great things happening to you if you haven't been trying. You are not just entitled to the best in life.

So, I guess I'm tired of people being selfish and expecting that the world revolves around their own self-satisfaction. Life takes hard work, and it's the hard work that makes it all worth it in the end.

If you could have dinner with anyone in history, who would it be and what would you eat?

I would eat dinner with Jesus Christ. Hands-down, I would want to meet Him face to face.   I assume we would eat bread and wine. Maybe some fish. However, since He knows my heart, meeting Him would probably be terrifying.  What if He decided to smite me or rebuke me terribly? Also I doubt that I'd be considered worthy to eat with him. He was a pretty busy man, and I don't think I'd feel worthy enough to ask him to eat dinner with me. Even if He is just and merciful, he also spent alot of time trying to avoid the big crowds, and only those in great need ended up seeing Jesus. He probably doesn't consider me urgent need, so eating dinner with Jesus probably wouldn't happen.  But, in all honestly, what person that's ever attended any Christian church wouldn't want to meet Jesus? Having the chance to meet the man that was the entire centerfold for your religion? Even people who aren't Christians would probably want to meet Jesus in the hopes to prove it wrong. Similarly, I'm sure other religions would want to meet their religious equivalent.

Last night, I attended a wedding as Leah's "date." Since neither of our husbands like to dance, we figured we'd just go as a team. We both missed our husbands more than we expected--dancing is less fun when they aren't sitting at the table watching us like we're ridiculous. Luckily, that didn't stop us from dancing to our hearts' contents! We even waltzed to one of the slow-dances that was in 3/4 time.

Friday, I did NOT want to work out, but I decided that I had to go even though I was certain that I would not be able to finish the day. Once I started, I was able to work out just fine. Lesson learned.

Describe your family dynamic of your childhood vs. your family dynamic now.

I've been getting more and more slack about following my list of blog titles lately. That's mostly because of blogs like this. I feel like I need to put alot of effort into trying to fully answer this, but I really don't have the energy to try and find words that could ever do justice to explaining what it really feels like to be in my family.

As a child, I had a simple family dynamic. I loved my family very much. My parents were, of course, able to handle any problem.They were so tall, too. They were fun, loving, and just parents. My brother and I were like twins in my mind, being about a year apart. We played together most days, occasionally fought, but always bounced back. My older sister was my role model in my mind: being four years older, everything she did was the coolest thing ever. Besides the occasional brattiness on one of our parts and deserved punishments, we had a fairly normal family.

When I was 14, I realized, rather harshly, that my parents can't solve any problem in the world, and that I did have to face consequences for problems I create. From 13-18 was a much less friendly family dynamic, mostly because my parents had two angsty teenage girls for two of the years, then Trish moved out and I continued to be angsty.  I argued with them frequently. Why are teenagers so belligerent and grating?

Now, we're back to our normal, happy family. Part of that is probably because I don't live with my parents. We talk frequently, I love them very much, and I visit them occasionally. There's not much more to say to that. The only difference is that, as a child, I saw my parents as gods in my world. Now, I realize that they aren't perfect, nor do they have all the answers. They, like me, are just regular people trying to live a life for Christ.

That aside, it's been a crazy week. I no longer believe in the curse of Friday the 13th. Here's my story:

A year ago, I got a part-time minimum wage job at a company with an office in town. Three months later, on a whim, I applied to a salaried position in the same building via Career Builder. Surprisingly, they interviewed me three times. I didn't get the job, but they gave me a different, full-time, hourly job with benefits and told me that they hoped I could move up to the other job eventually.  Wednesday, someone put in their two weeks. Yesterday, my promotion was announced. In one week, Mike got a good annual raise, I got a promotion, and my brother received a job offer for a great job with Habitat for Humanity out of college.

I feel excited and happy, but I also feel scared. Everything is going great, for the first time in a long time, which means something is bound to go badly. Also, I keep thinking of the song "Thank Goodness" from Wicked. "I couldn't be happier... but... there's a kind of a sort of cost, there's a couple of things get lost." 

Either way, I have my first "adult" job now. I feel like a real grown-up.

List your top 5 hobbies and why you love them.

1. Reading. This is by far my number one hobby. As a child, I would spend every second reading: before school, after school, in between lessons or classes, on any car ride, etc. I don't read as frequently now as I would like, but this is partly because once I start a book, I will not stop until I am completed. (Example: Two summers ago, I decided to re-read the Harry Potter series. I was finished in less than two weeks. It would have been sooner if I hadn't been working full-time as well.) I love reading because it completely engulfs you in a story, much more fully than a movie. Movies only can use sight and sound, but books can touch all five senses and can more thoroughly penetrate your imagination, allowing you to live the story.

2. Video games. I am a true gamer at heart. Like books, I have to be careful because they will consume my time. Luckily, all videos except WoW and the Sims that I've played have a legit ending, so they can only captivate me for so long. I love video games because they are fun.

3. Singing. One day, I'll join a choir again. I think a love of music is just part of being human.

4. Cooking. I love cooking because the end result is eating.

5. Working out. While I am in the process of working out, I hate every second of it. It's after the workout that I love. There's a strong sense of accomplishment, stress relief, loss of fat, higher metabolism, and an overall feeling of healthiness.

Speaking of working out: I finally went to week 5 of C25k. Day 1 was easy: Just three intervals of running for 5 minutes. I was all, "Oh I can do this!" Wrong. Unlike the past weeks, week 5 changes the workout each day. Day 2? Two intervals of jogging for 8 minutes. The first 8 were fine. The second 8, all uphill, nearly killed me. My heart rate was at 186 for a good part of the workout, which is about 18 bpm higher than it should be for a cardio workout. On another note, I love my heart rate monitor!  I burned 374 calories from that workout!

Anyways, that's all for now. I don't have to be in work till an hour later today, so I had free time to blog. Hopefully I'll find more time to write again soon.

If you could have one superpower, what would it be and what would you do with it first?

Probably flying. And the first thing I would do is go flying. The second thing I would do is sell my car.

Second choice would be teleportation, but only if I could teleport other people, too. I have a whole business scheme planned out.

Today is a day that I'm glad is over. Although it ended well, the rest was less happy. Work was boring and disappointing. Upcoming changes aren't happening as quickly as I'd like, and we all know that I'm not at all a patient person. After work I had to go running, which was disheartening. I'm still on week 4, due to my stomach virus last week. Also, since I did squats on Tuesday, my quads are killing me. Running is supposed to be the remedy, but it still just feels miserable. And it's on the verge of thunderstorming around 5 every day, making workouts a dangerous gamble.

The dinner party was fun. It was my week to host, and we had lasagna and homemade breadsticks. The breadstick dough did not behave as I had hoped, but the lasagna was tasty. And I get leftovers for lunch!

Overall, I'm just glad that tomorrow is a brand new day to be what it will.

Describe 3 significant memories from your childhood.

Uhhhh. Well, I can describe three memories that I significantly remember!

1. I remember going into surgery for one of the last of my surgeries (ten operations on scalp, born with 1/3 of scalp covered in cancerous mole.) I remember being wheeled back and the doctors put the breathing thing over my mouth and told me to count, or they were counting, but I only made it through three numbers before I was asleep. Back then, it seemed so normal, but now I wonder what it's like for a doctor--putting an adult under anesthesia is one thing, but a tiny three year-old girl? I wonder what it felt like for them. I have a few other bits of memory regarding the surgeries- getting stitches removed, looking in the mirror at the tube from the tissue expander sticking out of my head, and seeing my head entirely shaved (after the last surgery, they cut it all off.) I looked in the mirror, ran my hands over it, then ran to my parents to let them know it felt like Daddy's face when he hadn't shaved.

2. I remember the only time in kindergarten that I got a sad face (as opposed to a straight or smiley face.) I got straight faces more than I should have, but only one sad face. First of all, I was already pesty because it was costume day or something and I had dressed up as a ballerina. I was wearing an old pair of shoes that had broken, and instead of letting the janitor fix them, my mom let the teacher know that I had an extra pair of tennis shoes, so I had to wear those. At recess, some kid thought he was hot stuff by holding onto the edge of the circular slide so that he was hanging off of it, then inching his way up with his hands till he was a foot or so off the ground. I was not going to be outdone. I went around to the top of the side, then flung myself over the edge so that I was dangling a good five feet or so off the ground. The teachers saw me and, alarmed, came to the rescue and asked me what had happened. I probably would have been fine if I just told them, but I was mad that they had ruined my moment so I crossed my arms and turned away. I still would have been fine except this next part: when recess ended, I refused to move. The teacher had to carry me back into the class as I kicked and screamed in fury.

3. When I was four, my dad shaved his mustache off. I ran outside and hid behind a tree crying. I did not recognize him.

I'm not sure if I remember these because they were so significant or because they are still talked about by my family.

I spent today preparing lasagna and breadsticks for group dinner tomorrow. I made the dough tonight and shaped it and am leaving it in the fridge. According to the Internet, I can still have them rise tomorrow before baking. We'll see how it works!

If you could live anywhere, where would it be and why?

This was one of the questions at my bridal shower where you play the game that everyone takes a quiz about you. I named my hometown. My parents moved to Lake Helen when I was two and bought a house there when I was four. They still live there. If anywhere feels like home, it's that little four mile square beautiful town that's 15 minutes away from any sort of not locally owned business. I love it there. Even if it can be a bit boring, it's always going to feel like home. (Also, living closer to parents=free babysitting.)

I've disappeared for a few days. Work has been busier and I've been more tired. I'm still on week 4 of C25k since the stomach bug set me back some. I've been playing lots of Zelda on the Wii in my free time. Also, I hung out with Leah friday, which was awesome.  Since Leah works late on Fridays, we didn't have much time to go anywhere because she came over a little after 9. So she just sat down on the couch and started talking. Before we knew it, it was almost 11. I'm going to miss her when she moves away. Luckily, since we enjoy talking, we can do that on the phone just as easily. Or skype. We also tried to determine the origins of our friendship, since neither of us could really remember what we talked about freshman year. We decided that we have a friendship solely based on singing duets. The best kind.

Anyways, back to Zelda.

What has been the most difficult thing you have had to forgive?

Today, I had a terrible headache. I was really tired from lack of sleep or caffeine or something. Driving to Leah's for dinner was awful; it was just the perfect time of day combined with the perfect placement of the sun in the sky (since it moves to the north and south of direct east and west depending on the seasons) so that all the roads on which I drove west were terrible. The sun was literally directly behind one streetlight and you couldn't tell if it was green or not. All the roads were illuminated with yellow, which made the whole drive painful.  Once I arrived, it was wonderful. We had chicken and waffles and sat around and talked for two hours after dinner was over. It was wonderful.

Anyways, having to think of difficult things to forgive could get really personal really fast. However, since not that many people have wronged me, it isn't too bad. First things that came to mind, honestly, were things that I had done and had to forgive myself for. However, that is much to cliche and honestly, just not true.

In high school, there was a time when I got into a big argument with a teacher about her going back on her word about something. When I was perplexed by her not following through on her word, she yelled at me to where I was crying, then yelled more. I was being somewhat of a busybody, and I admit that, but she should not have made promises that she did not intend to keep, nor should she have treated me that way. I remember sobbing all night. 

I spent years feeling angry about that. I still feel angry about it. Maybe I haven't forgiven her, I'm not sure. I just know that, for the most part, it doesn't eat away at me. I have no desire to talk to her again or pretend that I liked her.  Anyways, assuming that I actually have forgiven her, that would be the hardest thing to forgive, solely because of how much anger I harbored about it.

What is the thing you most wish you were great at?

Flying. Duh. 

Are we talking about things that people can actually do?

Making money. While that is true, it's also too vague. So here's a serious answer. I wish I had a better aesthetic eye. I'm not good at fashion or interior design or anything of that nature. I can't just tell that some colors would look well, or that an outfit will work, or that certain photos in certain frames will bring a room together beautifully. Luckily, I've been blessed up to this point to have friends that I can just be like, "Does this outfit work?" Or family that will help me decorate a room.  So there's my answer. I wish I was great at having a good eye for that thing. Or making money.

I've decided something about blogging every day. It lets people see how grouchy of a person I am. Usually, I only blog when I'm happy or pensive or have something to say. Blogging every day forces me to blog even when I'm sick or grouchy or cut back on caffeine and am really tired and drowsy, like today.