My First [MARRIED] Christmas

Let's start with Christmas Eve, shall we? Much to my husband's distress, we were waiting around for a package for his sister to arrive (side note--it was supposed to arrive the day before, but apparently UPS had some issues this year. If you want to read all about it, click here.) So, while my husband was struggling to wait, I got to spend time with my best friend and her family. I regret nothing.

Anywho, the infamous package finally arrives, and we jet off to his parents house. And when I say jet, I mean drive, because they now only live about an hour and 15 mins away from us. Speaking of his family, I'm currently eating some of his mom's chocolate chip banana bread. But I digress. Anyway, we get there in time for their traditional ravioli dinner. I, of course, added to the dinner by bringing my mountain dew that I was determined to buy that morning. Because let's be real. Me + Caffeine=best friends. So when I don't drink caffeine, I think he gets a bit jealous and becomes a BIG headache for me.

Oh, and did I mention my husband's sister got their parents a ping pong table?!?!? I love me some ping pong. The hilarious part is that I'm about 100% certain that their mom could whoop my trash.

Later on Christmas Eve we even played chimes! [Imagine wind chimes. Except each chime is a note. And instead of having sheet music that show notes, we have numbers that each match a chime.] With a nail, you tap the chime when your number/note comes up. And voila! Christmas Music!

Our stockings for Christmas were kind of cool because we each put a little something into everyone's. So when I woke up on Christmas morning, I about died laughing...my sister-in-law had gotten me FOUR cases of pop for "my stocking." BEST. STOCKING. STUFFER. EVER.

I need to back up really quickly. On Christmas Eve, my previously-mentioned-friend had given me a Christmas card with the instruction to not open it until Christmas Day. Except she entrusted it to my husband because she didn't believe I would wait to open it. Smh. Anyway, Christmas Day rolls around, I open the card, and finally understand her paranoia! Christmas morning is when she and her husband had decided to tell everyone that she was pregnant!!

Anyway, later yesterday evening we finally drove home around 8:00 pm. Unpacking the car was super cold. And here I am complaining about having to unpacking presents...shame on me. But once we put everything away, we played a few hands of Canasta! If you don't know what Canasta is...here's the lowdown. Really cool card game. I'd rank it #2 on my list, right under Euchre. Oh crap. I just found out you can play it online. MAN!

Anyway, there you have it folks. My first Christmas as a married person.

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My first day of class....errr....second day of class

It started off pretty typical. You know, the alarm is set to give you a respectable amount of time to get ready in the morning. But come morning time, your brain makes a valid point: you don't NEED that much time. You're a super fast morning-get-ready-er. So you hit that snooze button. Then, in effect, you're running around the house like a crazy woman because--as impossible as it would seem--you didn't give yourself enough time to get ready. Oops.

After packing my lunch and scarfing my cocoa puffs, I head out the door.

World, meet the girl who didn't shower this morning; armed with a coat of mascara and a smearing of eyeliner. But no worries, I did brush my teeth.

Enter first class. There are two really, really excited professors. No, no. That was not a typo--I have two professors, because I decided it would be a FANTASTIC idea to take a six-credit class. Because who doesn't love cramming their brain full of "Transatlantic Literary History" for two hours straight three times a week? Consistent with English major culture, we're also supposed to be excited about the fact that one of our instructors resembles Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Next comes my Marriage and Family class. Here at BYU, they require a certain amount of religion courses for you to graduate. What better time to take a religion course on marriage than, drum roll please, right after you just got married?!? The class is great and surprisingly easy. Why am I surprised it's easy? Well, BYU professors teaching religion have this weird thing where they love to take 2-credit hour classes and make them a pain in your derriere. These classes are supposed to make you happy; instead, they typically run out the butterflies and rainbows and replace them with busy work and memorization. But this guy--he was good. I like him.

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The Story of Ben & Sheila (As Told By Sheila)

You know how everyone gets in their nice, comfortable routines? Well, by the end of the fall semester of last year, I was very comfortable in my particular routine. I shall call it "Not-Really-Talking-To-Anyone-At-Church-Besides-My-Roommates-Because-I-Didn't-Give-A-Poop." It was great. No harm, no foul. Besides, the first and only time I decided it would be a good idea to date a guy I went to church with (earlier that semester) it didn't turn out so hot.

This is where Ben comes in: Occasionally, I had seen (and briefly talked to this boy who I thought "looked" British even though he didn't have an accent) who I thought was cute. I had no idea who he was. None. He was some random dude who would occasionally talk to my roommates. So I would kind of forget he existed. Sometimes I would try to talk to him. Our conversations would kind of go like this:
Me: Hey, you're cool, we should be friends.
Ben: (__________) <---blanks=blurriness that escaped my mind, but, I know it wasn't exactly positive feedback. Anyway, like I said, I'd always forget who he was unless I was at church. Apparently one time we even had a full out conversation at my apt when I came home one night. I don't remember this at all, but given that I apparently have a bad habit of blurting out life details to practical strangers, there's no refuting it.

So there you have the beginning of our story. Yup, that's right. This is the oh so romantic story of how things just didn't happen.....for months on end.

Then came that Sunday. When everything changed....BUM BUM BUM.
But really--after church my roommates were on either side of him, chatting. Well, chatting and stroking his beard (they both have a thing for facial hair). As I walked up, they were both commenting on how he should come over. Joining the conversation, I agreed with my roommates, and everything was set (I found out later that he agreed to come over because he wanted to meet me. Or so he says). In the mean time, my roommate Stephanie and I went to deliver a certain cheesecake. I may or may not have lost a bet. But that's another story for another time.
We get home and find out he'd stopped by while we were gone. Feeling bad, we run over to his apt. Because he was in the middle of making dinner, he said he'd come over once it was made.

AN HOUR LATER....

People, if you know anything about me, it's that I'm not known for my patience. So I decide to call him. Except I don't have his number, so I have steal it from Stephanie's phone like a creeper. But it worked! He came over.

After getting to know him for the first time (that I remember) I was super impressed by him. And I told him. Except he just thought I was flirting with him -_-

The next day I get a text from him (probably the only time my impatience has ever paid off--it made it so Ben never had to ask for my number). And let me just say something. As impressed as I was, I didn't actually think he was interested. It may or may not have to do with the fact that I'd been dropping (occasional) subtle hints the last couple of months for us to hang out that he never jumped on. Yahhh...

So that night was an FHE activity where we got to decorate cookies and make Valentines. I like making Valentines, so I started making one. As much as I was telling myself I was making one for funzies, in the back of my head I knew it would be for Ben....which made it slightly awkward that the only thing I could fit on the heart I made were the bubble letters that spelled out "Be Mine." So I then begin the walk of shame to deliver it. And then I went with him to go grocery shopping. lol.
Anyway, the next day, he calls me to ask me out. This is how my brain works: "Yah, I'm free anytime.....except for Friday, Saturday, and....Sunday. I'll be in California this weekend." Because Ben had his internship Wednesday night, that left Thursday. Except Thursday was Valentine's Day.
Ben was afraid that would be awkward. I was excited to finally not be a loser on Valentine's Day.

We ended up going to dinner at this Thai restaurant. At the end of dinner, Ben admitted to stalking me on Google+ and asked if my birthday was really June 15. Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we found out we had the same birthday.

From there, everything just kind of happened.

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Person of Interest

Last summer I watched a TV show called "Person of Interest."

The opening of each episode starts out with this voice-over:
 "You are being watched. The government has a secret system: a machine that spies on you every hour of every day. I know because I built it. I designed the machine to detect acts of terror, but it sees everything. Violent crimes involving ordinary people, people like you. Crimes the government considered irrelevant.......You'll never find us, but victim or perpetrator, if your number's up... we'll find you".

I loved this show. Super cool, these guys fighting off the bad guys.

Why am I bringing this up? It probably has to do with the whole someone leaked confidential information
about how our government has been accessing our phone records and internet use without our knowledge. A little bit of an invasion of privacy. It's a little bit like that TV show, right?!? So why did I have absolutely no problem with the TV show? Because they weren't corrupt. They were using this knowledge for good. Because it wasn't real. However, we all know that absolute power leads to absolute corruption. I'm afraid that the more power we give to the government, the more they'll think it's okay to control things that are currently our choices.

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The Story of How I Got Engaged

Once Upon A Time...
Okay, I'm going to skip part about how our first date was on Valentine's Day...and how he was perfect for me...and all those others things. Skipping.

As a foreword, I suck at surprises. I absolutely love them, but if I get wind of them, imma try my absolute hardest to figure out. I'm relentless. (You can talk to me about my patience issues later.)

Monday. Mistake #1: Ben was telling me that he had yet to do his homework like he said he was going to do. He let it slip out, "If it makes you feel any better, I was doing something important!" This meant one of two things. He either A) paid for the ring or B) picked up the ring. Mistake #2: He informed me that he went ring shopping without me after we went. I obviously assumed that this meant he was picking up the ring. (I was wrong.) Mistake #3: I couldn't find my phone, so I used Ben's phone to call it. And look at that, he'd talked to my dad that day (AKA he had already asked permission).

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VACTERL Association

I hate talking about my birth defects. I like to pretend it doesn't affect me. I like to pretend there's nothing wrong with me. But let's be real, there's a ton wrong with me. My biggest fear is everyone figuring out that I have all these things wrong with me and judging me. So what am I going to do? Post it on the internet for everyone and their mother to see. Obviously.

VACTERL association. Basically, here's an introduction: Once upon a time, there were a bunch of non-random birth defects that were caused by something doctors don't know. Each letter in "VACTERL" association stands for a different thing wrong with you. If you have 3+ then congratulations, you have it.

V-Vertebral Anomalies
A-Anal Atresia
C-Cardiac
T-Trachea
E-Esophogus
R-Renal
L-Limb Anomalies

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Why Disney Princesses Got Jipped

I get it, the Disney Princesses are meant to be the protagonists of the stories, but does that really mean the guys they married have to be...well...losers? Thank you, Disney, for lowering girls' expectations since 1923.

A friend of mine recently asked me which Disney Prince I'd prefer. Out of all of them, I picked Aladdin. Here's a run down of all the princes to help you all understand how I came to this conclusion.

Beast. 
Let's take into account why he's a beast in the first place. Oh yah, he's selfish and prideful; prob one of those guys who would go around shirtless when it's 60 degrees outside because they like the attention. Then of course he treats his princess exceptionally well by holding her captive. How did Belle fall in love with him again? To quote Perks of Being a Wallflower, I'd say it's because, "We accept the love we think we deserve." So probably because Belle was a social outcast, she fell in love with a guy who treated her like crap. Perfect guys, perfect.

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VALENTINE'S

I Love Valentine's Day.

No, I'm not crazy.

Actually, I've never even dated anyone during Valentine's Day.

To be exact, last year I actually broke up with my boyfriend at the time the night before Valentine's Day.

SO WHY DO I LIKE IT SO MUCH???

I love cuteness. I love happiness. I love expressions of admiration and love. Growing up, my favorite part of Valentine's was seeing what my dad would get me. Usually he would bring home roses or chocolate. I also loved helping my twin brother get together things for whomever he was dating. I liked the creativity involved. The feeling I get when I see people doing really cute things for other people is about what you feel when you see the pictures below:

Overwhelming joy.

That.

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ADDICTION

Sometimes, I just need a change.

Most people do it the normal way.

Myself--I take it out on my hair.

I decided I no longer wanted bright red hair.

So first, it looked like this.

That's right. Orange. Why it won't go the right side up, heaven only knows.

But it currently looks like this:

So there you have it, my friends. AAAaaaaand in case you want a side by side comparison:

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I'm Not Psychic

I'm not.


I'm not sure what you would call it. Gut instinct? God telling me things through thoughts? A combination of the two? Who really knows. But I can't really explain how I know things sometimes.

One time, as I was walking, I began to talk to this boy. Finally I realized that I should probably ask his name. Moments before, images and emotions of a boy named David that I had dated my freshman year of college flooded into my heart and mind. Instinctively I knew that this must be the name of this boy. And so it was.

When I was a missionary, I could only receive letters. Often I would think about certain people--randomly--that I hadn't heard from in a while. The difference, however, was that I knew that because I was thinking about them, I would soon get a letter from them.

This past week, I kept getting thoughts that I had been free sailing for too long. Everything had been too good for too long. I've had this feeling before--it meant something bad was going to happen. My world would be shaken up. Ironically, I was even having these thoughts this morning.

So it shouldn't have been a shock to me to find out tonight that this boy I irrationally still had feelings for, whom was quite in love with another girl, was moving back to Utah to be with her. But not just back to Utah. Back to my apartment complex. But not just my apartment complex. Back in my ward. But not just back in my ward. He was moving into the apt of the guy I just had been dating...an apt which is in MY "family home evening" group. Which, wouldn't be so bad if I weren't FHE mom.

Haven't I shed enough tears over this guy? I had just gotten comfortable with everything. Not having to worry about seeing him at church, or when I went to church functions (minus when I got the shock of the year so far when I randomly saw him two Sundays ago. Not cool).

In other news, my leg is still healing from being run over by a car. The doctor said it would take 8-9 weeks to heal. Well, friend, it's been 8 and it's still bruised, still hurts, and still has some nice purple stripes and pink markings. Whatever.

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