Pasts, Futures, and Presents...

I have been a serious blog slacker. You can obviously tell that by reading my blog. What you don't know, what you don't see is that I'm also slacking at reading other peoples blogs. I'm slacking at learning new music. I'm slacking at trying new recipes. I'm slacking at living. I could blame it on my ankle. scratch that. Let's blame it on my ankle. I am in so much pain by the end of the night that beyond making bland dinners and cuddling with my love, I honestly have nothing left. It's not that I've given up on the blog idea. Or that I've slightly fallen out of love. I'm just ex-haus-ted. Plain and simple, tired. I'm going to try to commit myself to writing once a week, even if it's just nonsense. After-all, as much as I love you, this blog is really for my own future family :)

Our own sort of Thanksgiving...

I may sometimes overestimate my abilities. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. Unless you are my family and I find this amazing recipe for fried mac and cheese balls online and even though (1.) I'm no culinary expert, (2.) I have never successfully (well to be honest, never at all) fried ANY food, and and (3.) I decide that since I found the recipe last minute, I can easily shorten the 4 frozen mac and cheese hours into 40 minutes.

I am a great cheerleader and I can easily convince Brad that I know exactly what I'm doing. It's not really fair to him, since he is now slightly responsible for the final product. Needless to say, a couple hours later (and no closer to eating) we know that our runny, white, oily pasta will never (and really, should never) see the the table. ((The entire time Brad does continue to encourage me, clearly to a fault)).

I've never been big on the holidays (personal, slightly OCD/Crazy reasons). I'm also a lifelong vegetarian and get sick upon merely smelling a roasting turkey (long story I'll save for my loved ones). This year we are having Thanksgiving at our house for the VERY first time!!!!!

I've planned a menu I think any Bostonian (and really that's who the Pilgrims were) would be proud of: New England Seafood Chowder, Shrimp Cocktail, Coconut Shrimp, Broiled Haddock (for Brad's most-recent wife....a story within itself), Steamed Lobster, Coleslaw, Potato Salad, Cauliflower/Broccoli mix, and Pumpkin Pie.

I know the only traditional item is the Pie (and maybe the veggies), but I'm okay with that. The problem is that I'm convinced I need to make everything from scratch and I've never made most of the items before. As much as I second guess myself; however, I am going to practice until then, do my research, and I KNOW I will pull off the most memorable Thanksgiving of my life.

The food may not be expected and it probably won't be the best, but I couldn't ask for anything better than sharing it with my soulmate and best friend.

My glass is still half-full.

I absolutely love autumn. I love the colors on the leaves. I love the gray clouds in the sky. I love the chill in the air when the wind gets going. I love bonfires with friends and family. And I love off-road golf carting...even still....

2 weeks ago, I embarked with a friend on one of these nighttime trailing adventures. We had detoured from a neighborhood get-together and found ourselves driving around an empty field of grass. It was one of those moments that I will never forget. Especially since I managed to roll out onto the ground during one circle around. I looked down at my right foot and it struck me that my sneaker was facing the wrong way. I am an optimist, so I decided that the problem was obviously with the shoe, and not with me. I took it off, had my friend drive me home, and crawled to Brad's side.

I told him I had hurt myself by falling, asked him to wrap it and took 4 Advil. When I woke up the next morning, I was in pain, so I suggested that we go to the Urgent Care. I insisted I didn't need to go to the ER, because, being an optimist, I was convinced that the pain I felt was a mere dislocation and that wonderful nurses at the offsite location would be able to fix me up like new.

That hope left me when the first nurse unwrapped the ankle and got a panicked look on her face. Brad and I both new we were in serious trouble from that moment forward. They took me to get an X-ray, where I was unable to lay and screamed so loud that Brad heard me down the hall. When I got back to my room, the Doctor on duty told me the Ortho-specialist on-call would meet me at the ER, and "would [I] like an ambulance?"

Fear set in. I had never been in an ambulance (I still haven't - Brad drove me). I had never been to the ER or been admitted to a hospital or had any form of surgery, not even dental. I put on my brave, optimistic face and met with this specialist.

I had not only dislocated the ankle, I had damaged all of my tendons and ligaments and managed to fracture the bones in 3 distinct places. Owww. Perhaps, I should have been more of a pessimist, because by waiting the night to come in, I caused more damage to the nerves, than if I had gotten there within 6 hours of the incident.

I was admitted to the hospital while I awaited emergency surgery. I had arrived at the ER at about 10am and was finally brought to the OR at around 8pm. When I woke up, I was the proud new owner of 7 pieces of fancy new surgical steel. I will actually be getting a couple more pieces in a follow-up surgery tomorrow.

I have not, however, lost my optimisim.

A cheesy kind of love.

He tells me that everything is better with cheese. I can't really say I disagree. There is almost nothing in the world that is better than cheese. I love cheese. Like really love.

This post is not about cheese. Though that would, someday when I have writers block, be a great idea. This post is about love, because one of the only things in the world that I love more than cheese is love.

Let me just tell you....I love, love, loooooove being in love. Don't let my over-excitement fool you. I resisted. When Brad first said those 3 little words I panicked. I became close-throated and short of breath. And then instantly decided to pretend it never happened. He didn't mention it, so I figured I was in the clear. Then he said it again....

And I was still like a deer in headlights, but this time I had had time to prepare. So I said it back. It wasn't that it wasn't true, it's just that I wasn't ready for him to know. How could I really believe that he loved me, just because he said it a couple of times? How could I be sure that if I gave him my heart that he wouldn't carelessy toss it aside? I didn't know how any of it was going to turn out, but I was ready to take that risk.

It was the best decision I've ever made. When I told myself to stop thinking, stop resisting, stop worrying and just feel I discovered my best friend. I discovered the one person who I can spend every single waking moment with, repeat all of our stories, and (yes) even argue with and still not get bored. I discovered the man that not only do I want to grow old with but the man I see myself growing old with. Every night when I arrive home to find him waiting for me by the door ready for a "hello" kiss, I think to myself how lucky I really am.

I over-think things.

Sometimes, okay most of the time, I over-think my over thinking.

Fortunately, my husband-to-be has mostly accepted my idiosyncrasies.

I do, on occasion, catch his gaze wandering or a blank stare occupying his face.

I chalk that up to the fact that I tend to repeat and over-analyze almost everything I come into contact with.

I refuse to believe he either finds me boring or, worse yet, does not understand the way my mind works.

I sit there some times over over-analyzing the thirty second conversation we just had about the weather girl's summer vacation and realize that I am insane.

I am out-of-control insane.

When they warn you about the girl with the crazy-eyes, they are talking about me.

I don't mean that in a "hide your loved ones" kind of way.

I mean that in an "I'm so in love, nothing in the world can stop me" kind of way.

If I have to trade being a neurotic member of society for being happy and in love, guess which one I'm going to choose...

EVERY TIME.

Introduction

Less than a year from now I am going to marry my best friend.

Less than a year from now I am going to commit my life and my heart to the only person who's ever really understood me.

Less than a year from now I am going to vow to honor, cherish, obey, and love the only man I've ever given my entire heart to.

I am not perfect, he is not perfect - we are, however, perfect for each other.

I never thought I'd meet a man who would bring me pizza instead of flowers. I never thought I'd fall for someone who'd already been married 3 (yes THREE!!!!) times.

I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago. I stopped believing in soul mates a while after that. I stopped believing in true love about 8 years ago. I stopped believing in love altogether shortly after.

He has shown me that love is real - sometimes you just have to look in unexpected places to find it. He has shown me that true love is absolutely possible, if you let your guards and your walls down. He has shown me what a real soul mate and a real best friend is - we are without a doubt two halves of a larger whole. He has shown me that even though fairy tales are just stories, I am worthy of feeling like a princess.

And at the end of the day, what girl doesn't want to be treated like a princess?