I’ve known it was coming for months.

In fact, this all started back in late August when Jared blurted “I can’t hold it in anymore”.  (That’s what HE said) Not wanting to be a moment-ruiner, I kept that little bit inside, not knowing what he was going to say.

“I want to marry you.”

I squealed and got excited as we talked logistics (because we fancy ourselves fairly practical), given the amount of seminary Jared has left (a lot).  We settled on August of next year as the earliest this shindig could go down.

The next few months consisted of a variety of emotions for me.  Excitement.  Impatience.  Extreme joy.  More impatience (the man’s a saint for me mentioning the impending engagement every 3.2 days).  In October Jared flew down for lunch to visit my Dad to ask him for permission.  This did not help my impatience because my Dad blurted the whole thing over a phone conversation.

Now I was really expecting it.  All the while, thanks to The Office, Jared was dropping fake proposals all the time, thinking in his mind that it would in fact help the surprise of when he actually did propose, I would be that much more surprised.  By the fifth time I told him that he was going to become “the boy who cried proposal” and that I would just look at him like an idiot when the day finally came.  From then on he promised never to fake me out again, and that the next time he got down on one knee, it would be legit.  

The Saturday before Thanksgiving I was edging on hostile as I was explaining my impatience to SarahII, who had a similar situation and completely empathized.  (Internet, I realize I sound completely selfish, but given that I’ve been withholding information for so long, and that I love this man, please be gracious.)

On Wednesday we had early Thanksgiving at the Jared’s because Zack had to work the next day.  (Re: glass bottom boats in the sky).  In my college years I had heard from Zack the wonderful bedtimes stories of their family’s magical Thanksgivings.  Cannons.  Fried turkey.  Guns.  This was my first.  And it was truly magical.  It was getting late and I was not ready to go home yet (even though I had already fallen asleep on the couch) and Jared, for the first time ever, was trying to kick me out.  By this time it was about 1:30 in the morning, and half-asleep, I am a difficult person to convince to wake up.  Finally getting me home, turns out Jared had to run one last errand up to Dallas.  I just thought it was because he was getting up early to run the Turkey Trot, as was tradition every year.

I wake up the next morning to make the five hour trek to my parents for our Thanksgiving.  A comparable extravaganza, it was not going to be as fun because Jared wasn’t there.  At 8:45 am my Dad calls, acting stranger than usual trying to gauge when exactly I’m going to arrive in Boerne.  I start to suspect something weird, but not really sure what.  Last Thanksgiving had been equally as surprising (my Dad came home early from Iraq), so I was no stranger to Thanksgiving surprises.  At 11:30 am my Dad calls again, which is out of character, given that he only calls a second time when I’m already running late.  I usually underestimate the trip, but this time, I was about an hour and a half off.  I tell him that it’s going to be more like 1:00 that I’m going to get there.

I arrived at home and greeted the family and sat down in the living room. Then, a knock at the door and my Dad answered and told me it was for me. I opened the door and there was Jared, holding a ring box.  It was the real one, and I said yes.

So, internet, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it may be one explanation as to why my blogs have been bland and sparing.

I have been working on some of the portfolio, so please take a gander at it.

So I am very big into to DIY projects and as I’ve been thinking about Christmas gifts I happened upon this website. I was looking for “how to print on fabric” and google sent me this little morsel of awesomeness.

Ch-ch-check it out.

A little over a week ago I moved. And SarahI moved. And SarahII moved.

There was a lot of moving to be had. A lot of changes to.

SarahI moved because her beautiful house was finally finished. SarahII moved because she got tired of slanting dangerous staircases. I moved to be closer to the students, my job, and a hooligan boy that I love. He’s not actually a hooligan, I just like that word. Say it with me. Hooligan.

I have been neglecting my poor dwindling blog because there is still some tweaking going on in my life. Tweaking that has been promised not to wait until February.

Hang on dear readers. Until then, I will continue to unpack in the new little place I call home, with the sweet family who so generously allows me to stay there.

oh this is just fantastic.

henceforth, i refuse to cook dinner on the first thursday of november.

Friends call friends when monumental things happen in their life – milestones like buying a house, go on a date, taking over a small country, etc., etc….

A friend and I went to dinner and played air hockey last Monday night. At dinner we played catch-up as it has been quite the hiatus since our last adventure. She was telling me the latest and then her eyes get really big as she realized she had forgotten to tell me something rather important. She paused and then followed with the preface of “you can hit me because I didn’t tell you this on Friday when it happened”. She had had a monumental occasion, BUT nary a mention of it in the voicemail she left me the Friday night AFTER it had already happened.

So of course, I was somewhat bitter (bitter in the sense that I just openly mock her about it, this being one such time. NOT bitter in the sense of brooding in my basement bitter).

The next day I too had one such occasion (at least one worth mentioning in my book), and so I shot her a small note: got some flowers today. see. that’s me letting you know monumental things that happen in my life. not three days later. yes, still a little bitter.

Her reply: whatever. i don’t care that you’re bitter. as far as i’m concerned, we squared that up with air hockey. umm happy flowers.

On a completely unrelated note: I currently have “Merry Happy” by Kate Nash on repeat. Makes me type to the beat.

]]> http://mixtapejane.com/2008/09/15/an-addendum-to-the-flowers-or-commentary-on-the-rules-of-telling-your-friends-about-monumental-occasions-in-your-life/feed/ jm http://mixtapejane.com/2008/09/09/smilings-my-favorite/ http://mixtapejane.com/2008/09/09/smilings-my-favorite/#comments Tue, 09 Sep 2008 20:54:37 +0000 mixtapejane http://mixtapejane.wordpress.com/?p=137

these certainly brightened my day. thanks duh-li-cious.

Every time I sit down to write a new post I rack my brain for things to write about.

Here’s what I know.

I know that lots of things in the past few weeks have been memorable (a milestone or two even) that I want to write about. BUT I get stuck because these things reside in certain categories. Categories like the ‘I don’t write about it because it has to do with work even though it was ridiculously funny’ or ‘this news is super duper exciting but it needs tweaking’ . Most of the things that happened and I deem blog-worthy are under one of those two category umbrellas. No dice man.

I then resort to making lists. Because I forget all the time. I have a running queue. For example, yesterday Sarahthe was telling me about two important things to tell Jared. I had to write it on a post-it and stick it to my phone because I was so afraid I’d forget. AND she told me twice, so I knew it was imperative to be sure to pass it on. I’m almost 25 years old and I feel like the 7 +/- 2 things we’re supposed to remember as adults (according to George Miller, thank you child development) is more like 1 +/- 1 for me. Strike 2.

I’ll try to be more observant, but until I have more tangible evidence for the ‘tweaking’ category, or find something funny, it might be a while.

“To me, making a tape is like writing a letter — there’s a lot of erasing and rethinking and starting again. A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do. You’ve got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention…and you can’t have two tracks by the same artist side by side, unless you’ve done the whole thing in pairs and…oh, there are loads of rules.”

- Nick Hornsby, High Fidelity

Well thanks to unforeseen circumstances, I am postponing my future for another semester. I am slightly frustrated by this, but in the mean time project IwanttobeateachersobadIcanhardlystandit’s deadline has been moved. I suppose that’s a little less pressure on me, but I work well under said pressure - it usually gives me that extra kick I need to get my butt in gear.

I finally got over to the library last night to get that coveted library card. What, you don’t get excited about things like that? I walked in the house satisfied by my great bounty of free books and movies nearly tumbling out of my arms. Free is always welcome after a day that excessively long and nearly caused me to throw my office phone out the window.

Did you notice that the air outside smells like school? Makes me want to buy school supplies. I miss the days when I held that crinkled list in my clammy little hands, hoping that my mom would finally let me get that Lisa Frank trapper keeper I’d been eying all summer.

I’m ready.

Ready for fall clothes and college football (and great piles of leaves to play in).