Mars/Venus: Decorating

Before you start worrying that my husband has turned into a total chick since we started sharing a house, I had to share these stories and photos so there are no doubts that his testosterone levels are just fine.

I'll start by showing you a Before picture of our living room. Isn't it pretty?

Trouble is (though you can't quite tell it from this picture), it's pretty long and thin. We entered this house with two couches: my khaki micro-suede couch, and the green micro-suede sectional (and ottoman!) that K bought from Heather and B after they moved into their new house.

My couch wouldn't be enough seating for the room, meaning we'd have to buy something(s) to go along with it (another couch? a loveseat? armchairs?). But the sectional might be too overwhelming for such a narrow space.

What to do, what to do ...

K really wanted to hang on to the sectional, so we put it in the living room in the best position we could find for the space. I don't know that any designers would be in love with what we've done, but it works for us. It's functional, and there's plenty of nice, comfy seating. It was the best solution we could find to utilize the back door and avoid blocking the (ginormous) TV or fireplace.

As you look at these pictures, please keep in mind that we are SO still unpacking! The items on the mantle are just there so they don't get broken or chipped before we find a better place for them. The second photo here gives you the best idea of how the room looks from the front door, but it doesn't tell you how wide the room is(n't). The third photo accomplishes that a little too well. I promise it's not a tight squeeze to get around the couch, even though that photo makes it look like it is.

The tables behind the couch are going away, too. I plan on making a nice seating area on that side of the couch with a small armchair or rocking chair, along with a nice little table. That way, you're not entering our home to see the back of the couch.

The other decorations we will bring into the room (including a painting we can't hang until we find the perfect cabinet for it to hang above) will be bright and colorful to (hopefully) make up for the neutral walls and couch color. I promise also, though, that it doesn't look as dreadfully neutral in person as it does in these photos.

And last but not least, no, we did NOT do that faux marble treatment to the fireplace. We would love more than anything to paint over it (as well as the faux marble treatment on the entry door frame), but it's actually in our lease that we can't. That's right, the owners of the home actually paid someone to do that. (I KNOW!!!)

OK, now that I've given you all the disclaimers, you can look at the photos.

That left us with my khaki couch, which K didn't want to get rid of. We decided to put it in our 3rd bedroom, which we're using as an office. Only we couldn't get it inside -- it's too wide for the doorframe, even after the movers removed the door itself. (Boo!)

I told K we'd just have to sell the couch. For some reason, K really hated that idea. I explained to him that we had nowhere for it downstairs. It wouldn't fit through any doors upstairs. "The only way we can keep it is if we store it in the garage, covered." Of course, K didn't want that either.

"How about this?" he said to me, pausing before hitting me with what he was sure would be the solution to all our problems. "Stadium seating." I waited for him to start laughing, but instead, he started trying to show me how we could put the khaki couch directly behind the sectional.

I really almost started crying immediately.

Wow.

And then there are the two bedrooms -- the master and the guest room. Both of them are good-sized rooms. This means we have a few options for the placement of the beds.

For our bedroom, I was trying to decide which placement would offer the best utilization of space. Which would make it feel less cramped?

(My fabulous rendering of the layout of our room.)

K suggested we put the bed on the right wall of the room. He moved to that area, and he hit me upside the head with another blast of male "reasoning": "That way, if you have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, all you do is walk forward to get to the door. If we put it on the other wall, the person on the far side has to make their way around the bed in the dark." As he spoke, he was illustrating his point by climbing off an invisible bed, with quite a bit of fumbling around for the person on the right side of the bed.

Hmm. Interesting. Hadn't thought about it that way. Not that I get up often in the middle of the night to use the restroom, but whatever.

Then it came time to lay out our guest bedroom. I was trying to figure out if turning the bed sideways would make the room seem more spacious.

Yet again, K used the bathroom trip scenario to show how vertical placement of the bed would be easier. I laughed out loud that the design of our home in his head revolves around getting to the toilet.

Speaking of the guest room, we took all the tape down on Sunday, and we moved the furniture back into place. We still haven't hung anything on the wall just yet. K is happy with the color, but the jury may still be out for me. Hopefully once we get more furniture and decorations, the green will balance out a little. We'll see.

But I can take comfort in the fact that even if our guests are horrified by the shocking color of the walls, at least they'll have no problem getting to the bathroom in the middle of the night!

Mars/Venus: Household roles

After living by myself the last four years, I wondered what it would be like to finally have a roommate again -- especially since that roommate would be a man. The only males I've ever lived with were my dad and my brother. Not quite the same thing.

The biggest surprise in living with K is how sentimental he has been about everything. I've always been a sentimental person, but for some reason, I've been more anxious to get things done before I take a break.

After we finished unloading everything from our cars into the house the day we got our keys, I was anxious to get inside and start unpacking the few things we had with us. When I got to the door, though, K stopped me. "What? What is it?" I said. He picked me up and carried me over the threshold. Then, he wanted to hug, give me a kiss, and really take in the moment that we were in our first house together.

It was a sweet moment and everything, but after days of traveling, going from place to place, and living out of suitcases, I was anxious to finally start getting settled in.

The same thing happened the first time we used our new dishes. And the pots and pans. And the first time K cut the grass. And when we finished painting the guest bedroom.

After each "first" marker we reach, K wants to stop, take it in, hug, and give me a kiss. I want to photograph it, then clean up whatever we've messed up (whether it's cleaning dirty dishes, rinsing paintbrushes, or putting away the lawnmower). I know you're supposed to stop and smell the roses, but I'd much rather smell them AFTER we've completely finished the task, when I can really relax.

And remember how clueless I am when it comes to cooking? Well, now that I have a boy roommate who* I happened to have married, I'm supposed to know how to cook. He doesn't expect it of me, but somehow, I all of a sudden expect it myself. I want to be able to cook for him.

Trouble is, we registered for some nice stuff -- stainless steel pots and pans, really nice knives, a pretty and expensive wooden cutting board ... All of these things have to be handwashed to keep them looking nice, which means I spend a lot of time handwashing dishes, which means I have become ridiculous about keeping the kitchen clean and pretty. (Also? Those really nice knives are really sharp, which means I have used a lot of Band-Aids lately.)

Along with K's sentimentality comes his eagerness to use our shiny new kitchen gadgets. "Is it lame that I want to use our new pasta pentola, even though this is a small amount of pasta?" he asked one night when we were making a quick boxed dinner because dinnertime snuck up on us with all the unpacking.

"Yes! I don't want to have to wash them just for that amount. We'll make spaghetti tomorrow. How's that?"

We've had similar conversations a few times. Like tonight, when it came time to use lettuce as a garnish (a garnish!!!) on the chicken enchiladas I'd awkwardly, frustratedly, and painfully (literally -- I cut my finger slicing onions!) managed to put together for dinner. K actually wanted to use our food processor to slice the lettuce. Instead, I asked him to use the cutting board and chef's knife. Even though I'd just washed them from preparing dinner, doing it again would be easier than dragging out, figuring out, and cleaning out our unused food processor.

It's cute that K has been so sentimental about things. I'm usually a really sentimental person, so I certainly never thought I'd find a guy who would be more mushy about all these little firsts than me. Then again, maybe it's just my way of balancing us out. At least this way, I make sure K gets to the next sentimental marker that much faster.

*(Sorry, I hate the word "whom.")

All good in the 'hood

Last night I texted Kris an apology. I thought about mentioning college football or something along those lines, but I thought it might seem more like an excuse than an apology. It also wasn't quite true. Any animosity I have toward Georgia (and its football team) is entirely due to my immature animosity with K's ex. I've never met the girl. She hasn't given ME a reason to dislike her. I just don't do well with mysteries. I really think I'd be better with it all if I'd just met her at some point.

Anyway, Kris texted me back this morning thanking me for the apology. She said she knew I was just being silly, but that it's hard for her because she's friends with K's ex and her entire family on facebook. Kris said she just gets sensitive and overprotective sometimes. Understandable. I still felt pretty crappy about the whole thing, but it's done. No sense dwelling on it.

In other news, K and I got our wedding video today! We watched it this afternoon, and it's really good. There are parts of it -- particularly the part where we tell "our story" -- that are pretty dang funny. I'm glad we got that video. We'll have fun watching it over the years.

We also painted the second coat on our guest bedroom today. I had wanted a nice, calming green, but when our green paint went up over the terra cotta-colored walls, it looked more like a very energizing neon green instead. Yikes! There was also the fact that it made the terra cotta look pink. We'd basically made our room look like a watermelon. K suggested leaving a wall or two terra cotta, then painting black spots on it to complete the look.

After we got the second coat on today, I was so relieved to see the color looked much better than with the first coat. It still may be a bit more on the energizing side, but that's OK. At least it's not neon green. And once we put the bed back with its white bedskirt and comforter, along with the dark curtains to keep the sun from overheating the room, it just might be the perfect color to balance everything out. We'll find out tomorrow, I guess.

In a little over an hour, we'll head over to the neighbors' for the wine party. Hopefully we meet some nice people there.

And tomorrow, I want to go to a church I found nearby. If I like it half as much as I loved my church in Dallas, I'll be very happy.

I guess K and I have a pretty exciting 24 hours ahead of us!

Wine + Facebook = bad idea

We (finally) got home from PA on Sunday night. On Monday, we immediately got back to making our house look like the home it already feels like. We got cable (woohoo!), unpacked a bit more, and spent a lot of the week finding things for the house.

Aside from one short dinnertime trip a few weeks ago, K and I haven't been to the beach. We decided to take Wednesday afternoon off from unpacking so we could go. Being the middle of a non-holiday week, we knew it would be the best time to check out VA Beach.

There was a ton of traffic on the way there, so what should have been a fairly quick trip took well over an hour. By the time we reached VA Beach, so had the front of a thunderstorm.

The mass exodus away from the beach meant another fun trip in traffic. We took a back route to avoid the major traffic, and we found a nice neighborhood beach along the way. We pulled over to get a better look. The dark sky made for some cool photos.

Thursday, we worked to paint our guest bedroom, which is kind of a terra cotta. As a loyal Sooner, any shade that even remotely resembles orange is absolutely unacceptable in my home, so K and I worked to remedy that situation. (I'll post pictures once I'm sure I like the color we've chosen. Painting is scary! Also, having a large guest bedroom is really great until you decide to repaint it!)

We had already decided yesterday that we'd take this morning off to really go to the beach, so we did just that (after checking the weather!). We picked one a little closer to us this time. We laid out for an hour and a half, then headed to a beachside deli for a burger and then some ice cream.

We had planned on painting the second coat in the guest room, but I just wasn't feeling it. I took a nice little nap instead. After that, I joined K to go through the boxes that were left in our bedroom. As we were finishing, one of our neighbors stopped by to invite us to a wine & hors d'oeuvres party they're hosting tomorrow night. After he left, I was so excited I was jumping up & down. Aside from our senior citizen neighbors (on both sides), K is the only person in this town I know, so it'll be great to meet more people.

K and I made a homemade pizza together for dinner. I poured myself a nice glass of wine, and we watched the X Games on TV while we ate. It was chalking up to be a great end to a great day.

And then I logged onto Facebook. I have become pretty good friends with a girl I met through K. It was actually at her wedding that K met his ex-fiance. Well, she put "Georgia or bust" for her Facebook status several days ago, which meant she was going to visit K's ex. When I first saw the status, I had wanted to write "Bust!" ... but I decided against it.

Well, after one measly glass of wine, I tossed that judgment out the window. I posted "Bust! Haha, just kidding!" quickly, so I knew I couldn't undo it. I showed it to K, laughing. (Evidently one glass of wine turns me from a normal, functioning, almost 26-year-old, into an immature 14-year-old with really bad judgment.) I thought about deleting it, but there was no "Delete" option. It was done.

Minutes later, my friend had updated her status: "Didn't realize I'd ever have to delete a friend's comment on my wall." My little joke was gone. I instantly felt terrible.

Shit. There went my buzz, there went my good day. And the ironic part? I did it all myself.

Don't get me wrong, it's a nice suitcase

Before we headed up to Virginia, K talked about visiting his family in Pennsylvania. He wanted to spend a week here. "A week?" I asked incredulously. There was no way either of us would make it through that sane. We're always ready to leave PA by day 4. K's dad & brother are sweet, and I really do love them, but I can only handle them in small doses.

K told me he wanted to travel around PA. We'd visit his friend first in one part of the state, then his dad & brother, and then his aunts & uncles. I told him a week tops. We had too much to do to spend more than a week in PA, especially if it would make us both crazy. After all, we only spent two days with my dad! And since we live so much closer to PA now, we can drive there to visit whenever.

We left for PA last Thursday afternoon so we could catch K's best friend while he was in town. That night, when FIL was asking how long we'd be here, K told him until the next Sunday. SERIOUSLY? That's 9 fucking days! Why didn't I know this?!

Today, we're on day 7 of this trip. It hasn't been bad, really. There have been times I've been frustrated or annoyed, of course. Take yesterday, when K's dad whipped into a handicapped space yesterday at lunch. I said to him, "All of us in this car are able-bodied." He placed his blue decal on the dash and got out of the car. (Grr!)

K and I are leaving his dad's house tomorrow to go to southern PA to visit some of K's aunts, uncles, & cousins. I'm looking forward to seeing them, but at the same time, I WANT TO GO HOME!

Here we are with this great house, and we've hardly been in it! We were in Dallas for not even 4 days for ER's wedding, and we were ready to go home. We'll have been gone for 9 days before we get home again this time.

We're supposed to get home Sunday night. There's a technician coming to the house on Monday morning. Sometime after that (not sure if it'll be Monday or Tuesday), we're supposed to leave for the honeymoon we've never had. We talked about going either to Chincoteague, VA, or Outer Banks, NC. We don't need anything fancy -- just a nice, relaxing getaway for the two of us.

However, I feel like we've had enough of a getaway, even if it hasn't been completely relaxing or just the two of us. I told K today that I really don't care to go somewhere next week -- that I just want to be home. He looked at me like I'd hurt his feelings and said we'd talk about it later. I'm just ready to be settled!

On June 14, K and his buddies left my apartment with my bed, my furniture, and most of my belongings. I slept on an air mattress in an empty apartment for 10 days. Then, once we headed to VA, we slept in a hotel room cluttered with the things that had been in my car, K's car, and a small U-Haul (all the things we needed or didn't want to trust movers with). On July 5, we got our house. On July 13, we got our stuff. Yet I'm still living out of a suitcase.

I want to be in OUR home surrounded by OUR things on OUR bed ... not living out of a suitcase!!!

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

Man, things have been hectic since I last posted! At the time of my last entry, my time as a Dallas resident was coming to a close (cue angels singing). There were lunches and dinners and happy hours with friends I wanted to see before I headed off. There was final packing, and getting my apartment ready to leave.

On June 23, I had my last day of work. On June 24, I headed to Louisiana to help K pack up his apartment. On June 26, we headed to Dallas for the night. The next morning, we left my apartment for the last time, turned in the keys, and headed to Oklahoma. On the 27th, we had my family reunion in northeastern Oklahoma. On the 28th, we left to head to Virginia. We drove for two days, and we arrived at our destination just before midnight on June 30.

But life didn't exactly slow down once we made it to VA:

• July 1 & 2: House hunting
• July 3 - 5: D.C. for the Fourth of July with friends
• July 6 - 8: Moving what we had with us into our new home; shopping for furniture & necessities
• July 9 - 12: Back to Dallas for ER's wedding
• July 13 - 16: Our furniture & household goods arrive at our house; unpacking process begins
• July 16: Hosting our first houseguest!
• July 17 - present: Visiting K's family & friends in PA

In these weeks, there have been some realizations and frustrations. Because I want to end on a good note, I'll list them in reverse order:

The Ugly

Life has been ridiculously hectic since ... oh ... January, pretty much. Last year, I was in kick-ass shape, constantly training for my next athletic event. This year has been so hectic, what with K coming home from Iraq, the Dallas wedding, the move ...

I posted several weeks ago about how my self-image has a lot to do with how often I've been working out, so it's not good right now. My arms, which I used to be proud of and get a lot of compliments on, are not at all what they used to be. I've lost a lot of strength in a lot of places, and it's frustrating. I'm ready to tone up again.

K and I joined a gym near our house, but we're out of town for the next two weeks. I brought my running shoes with me. I WILL use them.

The Bad

I lived by myself for 4 years before K & I headed to Virginia. That's a long time -- especially for a stubborn OCD girl. I knew it would be a challenge adjusting to living with someone again. I knew it would be even more of a challenge adjusting to living with a boy for the first time.

There have been times I've felt like I'm being a huge bitch, like I'm just picking at him all the time, and there have been many times I've worried that I'm going to become my mother. It hasn't helped that things have been really hectic, and it definitely didn't help that my period was last week. All things considered, though, it's been OK, and I think it's getting better.

What I don't understand, though, is how on earth a person can have so much gas! I have a digestive system, so yes, I get gas from time to time. It's part of life. But the sheer amount of gas that K (and, as a result, I) deal with is ridiculous -- and stinky. Seriously, one night I couldn't sleep for the longest time because K kept farting. He was lucky; he slept through it.

Oh! And when he eats food that has some sort of seasoning (salt, garlic, etc) on it, he will rub his fingers together over his food as he chews so that the seasoning that sticks to his fingers winds up on the food still on his plate rather than being "wasted" by wiping it on his napkin. Eeeeew!!! I finally had to say something when he was doing this over a basket of chips we were sharing.

Also, we have quite a few little things we have always done in our relationship. They were fine and cute when we saw each other two days a week, but too much of a good thing really isn't a good thing. Like when he winks at me and expects me to immediately wink back at him every time. Or when he holds his pointer finger right in front of my face and expects me to kiss it so he can triumphantly punch his fist in the air. They're the little things that make us "us," so I haven't said anything. Plus, I don't want to say something and hurt his feelings.

SPEAKING of hurting his feelings!!! He gets so sensitive sometimes! If I say anything that expresses something other than complete satisfaction, he gets all bent out of shape and says he just wants to make me happy all the time. That's sweet and all, but it's not possible! I don't make MYSELF happy all the time!

He seems really hesitant to tell me anything that could hurt my feelings. The other day, we were talking about what pharmacy I should go to for my birth control pills. I mentioned getting them on post, and it took a good two minutes for him to finally spit out that I should just go somewhere closer to home. Seriously, dude, just tell me that! It's not going to hurt my feelings!

I've asked K once or twice if he's having any issues with adjusting, if I'm driving him crazy from time to time. He just shook his head and looked at me with the same googly eyes he's always given me. I'm pretty sure I married a saint (twice). I just hope he's looking at me like that 50 years from now.

The Good

All silly Mars/Venus things aside, it's awesome finally living together. We found a great house (pictures to come!) in an area that we love. We have a nice back yard that Piper is loving playing in. There's so much to do nearby, and friends are already planning their visits to see us. We really feel like we hit the jackpot. So many times, we've said to each other, "I feel like I'm on vacation! I can't believe we LIVE here!"

It's been awesome getting to choose bedroom furniture and talk about our plans for the house. We've officially broken our previous record of consecutive days spent together (record was 20, which was reached during his R&R last September). It's been nice not having a constant inner clock counting down the time we have left until one of us has to leave.

After almost two years of marriage, we're finally feeling like a real married couple.

Bet HR's never seen one like this before!

Dear [Boss]:

Sadly, I would like to submit my resignation from [Wouldn't You Like to Know]. I have enjoyed my almost two and a half years here, but I’ve decided to make a brave move and finally live with my husband when he moves to Virginia Beach at the end of this month. I will miss the people and the environment at WYLK, but it’ll be nice to finally be able to spend weeknights with my husband doing exciting things like grocery shopping and folding laundry.

My last day at WYLK will be Tuesday, June 23, 2009. I will spend a large part of the month of July finding and settling into our home, but beginning Monday, July 27, I should be available for contract work if editing help is needed.

I wish many happy dog days, successful launches, and happy hour celebrations to you, WYLK health and wellness, and the company as a whole. I will forever be grateful for my time at WYLK and the friendships that have come out of it.

Sincerely,
my life is brilliant
Medical Editor

I'm living like a college freshman

After two days of work, my apartment is nearly empty. For the next 13 days, I will be living out of a suitcase in my own apartment, sleeping on an air mattress, and sitting on the floor to watch my TV, which is also sitting on the floor, since I no longer have furniture.

It'll be interesting, since I'm a girl who loves my house to look like a home. But the fact that after these 13 days of bareness are over, I'll finally finally FINALLY be living with my husband? I think that thought can get me through it.

I'd want you to tell me!

I got a gift from God in the mail yesterday.

It's amazing. And it's on sale now.

Girls, buy it for your girls. Boys, buy it for your girl.

Trust me.

Now my feet won't touch the ground

I went to see Coldplay for the first time last November. It was an amazing show, and I told K that if they came through again after he got home, we were so going. And we were getting floor seats.

Months ago, I found out about the dates the band had added to the end of their tour. K and I were able to go to the show in New Orleans on Tuesday night, and it did not disappoint.

Since the concert ended, I've been on a Coldplay high. I just want to keep looking at the photos and watching the videos I took (I got some good ones!). I've read a lot about Coldplay over the last couple of days. I can't seem to get enough.

This really isn't a good thing for my productivity at work, but seeing how I have only 8 working days left anyway, I'm kind of suffering from editoritis as it is. Maybe it'll help me to know that if I'm not looking at them, someone else is. So here you go.

(In case you're wondering, the picture taken during "Yellow" [I'll give you one guess which photo that is!] is from our seats with no zoom. We were much closer to the stage than that picture makes it seem. The 1st picture was from our seats with the zoom, and for the others, I snuck through the aisle to the front to capture those. For the 3rd & 4th photos, yes, I was really that close.)

Part 3: He redeems himself

Leave it to K. When he messes up, he sure can fix it.






















Until last Friday night, my diploma had been in a crappy frame barely larger than the diploma itself. I wanted to buy a nice frame for it when I graduated, but they were so expensive. I just couldn't justify spending so much money on a frame.

I had mentioned to K once a long time ago that I wanted to get a nice frame. I spent dozens and dozens of hours and a few thousand dollars earning that diploma, so it was ridiculous to have it in a $4 Wal-Mart frame. I needed something worthy of the diploma itself.

When K decided on my gift, he remembered that comment. I was so surprised and excited when I opened the frame. I stared at it for several minutes, studying it and the picture. He did a great job.

So in typical guy fashion, K forgot he was supposed to get me a gift ... But in typical K fashion, at the end of the day, he totally delivered.

It's never too late

Yesterday, for the second time in less than a month, I stood at the front of my church and, with K and ER beside me, made a promise in front of the pastor, God and everyone at the church.

This time, though, the promise was to God. I was baptized.

It was something I had thought about for a long time, and it was a decision I did not take lightly. I started talking to my pastor about it close to a year ago. I talked to my grandparents, ER, my dad, K, Jeremy, and a few others about it.

I grew up Baptist. In the Baptist church -- at least how it was always explained to me -- getting baptized is a way of telling the church and the world that you were "saved."

I was 9 when I was saved. I was at summer church camp, which I loved. I spent an afternoon on the porch of our cabin talking with Beverly, one of the adults at our church. I had questions about things I had learned at the camp, and we talked for quite a while. That day, on the porch with Beverly, I became a Christian.

I remember how overwhelmingly amazing it felt. I couldn't wait to tell my grandparents about it when I got home. They were so excited! My mom wasn't religious, so I was worried that she would roll her eyes or quickly change the subject, dismissing the huge, life-changing realization I had had. My mom surprised me, though. She was happy for me. But I didn't really think about getting baptized.

For the first 20 years of my life, I was surrounded by so many examples of what it meant to be a Christian. There was my cousin (the preacher's daughter), who told my brother and me that we were going to hell because we didn't go to church.

There were my aunt and uncle (the preacher), who had their children living such sheltered lives that they forced the same rules on the other children who were around them, confiscating peace sign jewelry ("It's an upside-down, broken cross!") and outlawing things like PG-13 movies and Paula Abdul ("They're bad."). Sundays were spent doing absolutely nothing but going to church, and the TV was not allowed to be on the whole day. (It's no coincidence that my brother and I only spent one Sunday at their house when we were little!)

There were the people from the largest Baptist church in town, who were very pushy and judgmental in their attempts to guilt people into religion.

There were those people who, when I did go to Bible studies, demanded to know where I had been the previous Sunday morning or during the previous week's Bible study.

There was the roommate in college who was so religious that she refused to date, and she was actually even hard to carry on a conversation with (She often interrupted at random times with things like, "Jesus loves you." What is the proper response: "Thank you"? "I know"? "He loves you too"? "Does that mean you do want me to get you more milk at the grocery store?"?).

For the first 20 years of my life, there were a lot of extreme examples of Super Religious People that I didn't know if I could live up to. And to be honest, I didn't want to. Surely God didn't put me on this earth to be a zombie who was incapable of doing nothing but talking about Jesus and the Bible and God and the Holy Spirit (not to call anyone I've mentioned zombies ...). Did that mean I was a bad Christian?

When I started going to ER's church with her, I was relieved at how at home I felt. Everyone was so friendly, and I started going regularly. Even after ER moved, I went by myself. I started going to outings with the 20/30 something group, where I met plenty of people like me, including our associate pastor and his wife. These were religious people who were welcoming. They weren't judging me, they weren't pressuring me, and they weren't talking nonstop about religion. They were like me. They were good people who led good lives both inside and outside the church.

When I first started thinking about getting baptized, I thought long and hard about it. I wanted to be sure I understood the differences in the meanings of the ritual in the Lutheran church from the church I grew up in. I wanted to be sure I completely understood the promise I wanted to make. I wanted to be sure I was doing it for the right reasons, rather than because it's what you're supposed to do.

I talked with our associate pastor about baptism one final time last week. I told him about all the extremes and conflicting messages I had gotten growing up, and how it had confused me about baptism and the details of holding up our end of that promise.

When I left from our meeting, I felt so much better, so much clearer. I no longer felt like I was making a promise to God that would be impossible for me to live up to.

So on a sunny Sunday morning at the age of 25, I was finally baptized.






































ER's sister put it well: "Our church had a great day: three babies and two adults baptized!" Amen!

I feel excited about the promise I made. I feel glad that I took the time to learn more about it before I dove in. I am grateful for the blessings in my life, and I'm excited for the growth that lies ahead.

Part 2: My gift -- it really is the thought that counts

Ladies, if you're engaged, share this story with your fiance!!!

In general, K is light years ahead of other men when it comes to thoughtfulness and consideration. So it shocks me when we have those times that smack me upside the head and remind me that even though he's a really really good one, when it comes down to it, K is still a man.

When I decided on K's gift last October, I was so excited that I told him I had made my decision. I asked if he had thought about what he was getting me. Of course, he hadn't. No big deal; he had time.

Each time there would be a development with K's gift, I'd ask him if he knew yet what my gift would be. Each time, he still didn't know. I had given hints -- peridot jewelry (it's both our birthstones!), a silver necklace (he gave me a gold heart necklace for our first Christmas), a really cute yellow linen cabinet ... K also knows that I've wanted a really nice digital camera for a long time. That would be a huge gift, but it's an idea. I didn't know how K couldn't figure something out.

It was about two weeks before the ceremony when K's answer finally changed. Suddenly, he knew what he was going to get me, so I didn't question him again. He's an awesome gift-giver, so I was excited about what he could have thought of. (The spa gift certificate he gave me the Christmas before he left for Iraq was the best, most thoughtful gift ever. When I opened it up, he said something along the lines of "I won't be here to do it, but I want to make sure you're still pampered.") His gift to me didn't have to be big or extravagant, but I knew it would be something special.

The day before the wedding, I was talking to ER about the jerseys. She asked if I had any idea what K could get me. I told her I had a few: (1) Diamond studs. I wear my $2 fake ones almost every day, so I could see him buying me real ones. (2) The peridot jewelry or silver necklace. (3) The nice digital camera. (4) Or a trip. We hadn't gone on a honeymoon after the Florida wedding (we had half a day to ourselves after the ceremony before we drove back with K's dad & brother). People had been asking us both quite a bit if we were going anywhere for a honeymoon, and we had even talked about a few places -- Hawaii, Costa Rica, Cozumel, Key West -- but we'd made no plans. I could see K having something planned all along.

"Oh my gosh, those are all such awesome gifts! I can't wait to find out what it is!" ER said. I was excited too.

On the day of "I Do, Part 2," as I waited in the church choir room for the ceremony to begin, I handed K's gift and card to my bridesmaids to deliver it to him. (No, I didn't see these pictures until after the wedding.) I anxiously waited for them to come back. I couldn't wait to hear K's reaction.






































When the girls got back, they were empty-handed. "He didn't send anything with you?"

"No," they said.

I figured K wanted to give me his gift in person. Or maybe, like if it was the honeymoon thing, he would tell me at the reception. That would be a K thing to do.

But the ceremony came and went, and the reception came and went, and the wedding night came and went, and there was no surprise from K. It had slipped my mind, so I didn't think of it until the next day, when we were talking about the jersey. I gave him a chance to mention it, but he didn't. I said nothing.

Later that afternoon (still the day after the wedding), K and I were headed home from ER's house, where we picked up the gifts and things left from the ceremony. We were talking about the gifts, so I brought it up to K. I mentioned how he had finally said he knew what he was getting me, and I asked when I would get to find out what it was.

K sighed. He took a deep breath and told me that he had forgotten to get me a wedding gift.

Wow. I hadn't expected that, but I didn't really care. "It's no big deal," I said. "It's not like I married you to get a gift."

"I know," he answered, "but how hard would it have been to just have a card? That would have taken five minutes. But I had nothing." He went on. He said he had felt like an a**hole.

As I listened to him, my feelings started to change. "OK, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm starting to get mad. I spent a lot of time working on those jerseys! And for the Florida wedding, I easily put 24 hours into that scrapbook." I explained to him that the Florida wedding was different, since the Dallas ceremony was always going to be the "real" wedding, but still. I put a lot of time and thought into both those, and he couldn't even remember to get me a card.

K said to me, "You're making me feel worse."

I explained to him I wasn't telling him any of this to make him feel better or worse. I just needed him to know how I felt. "Besides, it's not like you forgot to reserve a limo and make dinner reservations for your bachelor party."

I told him that it didn't matter what the gift was, but it was the sentimental value. I love things with sentimental value (who doesn't?). I told K that that was the whole point -- that I could someday say to our kids, "Your dad gave me these earrings on our wedding day," or "K got me this camera as a wedding gift because he knew how much I love photography."

Anyway, on Memorial Day (observed), we were laying around the pool with one of K's friends when something came up that made K tell his friend about his goof-up. K admitted to us that he had ordered his gift for me on the wedding day, while I was getting my hair done. I don't know why he hadn't told me about that the day before, but he explained that he thought it should still count as a wedding gift since he'd ordered it on the day of the wedding.

We'll see. But whatever it is, evidently K got it in the mail on Monday. And finally, tonight -- almost two weeks after the wedding -- I'll get to see what it is.

Part 1: K's gift

I decided what I was getting K as a wedding gift on October 4 of last year. I was with Jeremy at the OU-Baylor game. Jeremy was wearing his custom-made OU jersey, which has his last name on the back and the number he wore when he played high school football.

Since K is a real Sooner fan now, I decided he needed a jersey. And if he gets a jersey, why not have it personalized?!!! And if K gets a personalized jersey, how awesome would it be if I got one too, complete with my new last name?! The numbers would be 9 and 22, for our Florida anniversary, since that's the day we were legally married. Perfect!

I immediately started searching for plain jerseys. Turns out they are NOT easy to find! N!ke owns the rights to Sooner apparel, but they don't sell plain jerseys (hello, gigantic marketing opportunity!). If I managed to find a solid, could-be-the-right-shade jersey, I then had to find a smaller version that would work for my jersey. Not an easy feat.

Back in December, when I was in Oklahoma for Danielle's wedding (sorry, I never posted about that), I went to the store in Oklahoma City where Jeremy's jersey was made. Once again, the smaller jersey was creating a problem.

I finally found a company online that sold plain jerseys in adult and kids' sizes (evidently women don't wear jerseys), so I ordered them. A month and a half later, when I still hadn't received the jerseys, I learned mine had been sent elsewhere by accident. I got them a week or two later, and they were the perfect shade of Aggie maroon. Yikes!

I called the jersey company and spoke to a few different people before I was connected with someone in the warehouse, who actually looked at the different jerseys to tell me which color would be the perfect shade of Sooner crimson. I returned the Aggie jerseys, and a couple of weeks later, I got two beautiful new crimson jerseys in the mail.

I immediately shipped them up to a store in Norman (the one that does the REAL players' jerseys!!!) to be personalized. They were finally ready just five days before the wedding, so Danielle picked them up and brought them with her to Dallas the week of the wedding so K wouldn't see the box and be tipped off by a Norman label.

As you can tell, these jerseys took months of work and effort, but they were worth it. They looked gorgeous!

I had ordered some cutesy cards off etsy months ago, so I used one that said "you're better than chocolate" (if anyone ever questions something I'm saying, I tell them that I swear on chocolate and Sooner football -- two things most people know I'd never joke about) to write him a note to read before he opened his gift.

I took a picture of the back my jersey, and I placed it in the box on top of his jersey so he would get the significance of the numbers I'd chosen.

I put so much time and effort into it, but come football season, it'll be totally worth it!

I Do, Part 2: Pictures

I obviously don't have the professionals yet, but here are some that friends have posted on facebook or passed along to me so far.


Me with my bridesmaids.

Right before I walked down the aisle.

The groomsmen.

The kiss.




















We're married (again)!





















Entering the saber arch.














Right before our friend WHACKED me on the butt with his sword!

Our sign-in table. Check out the awesome ceramic boot that held the sparklers for our exit!










Our cake with the awesome, specially made topper! We went with French vanilla with strawberry filling. Mmm!

K's groom's cake. It was red velvet, and it was delicious! I learned that groom's cakes are a Southern tradition. K's Yankee friends hadn't heard of them before.

Cutting the cake. K was pretty nice. He only got it on part of my face. I was going to be nice, but he gave me the go-ahead. I smashed some in as nicely a way as I could, but evidently it still went up his nose.















Showing the Yankees how we Southerners do it!

Heather, me & Elle.

Our fake exit at 10:00 p.m. Our photographer got to go home, we got pretty pictures ... and we got to go back in and party some more!

What the hell were we thinking?

Who plans a wedding when they're already married?!

I'll tell you who: CELEBRITIES.

They plan a second ceremony because they're rich and have nothing better to do with their time. And they love attention. And they have someone else to plan the wedding.

Never mind that we had perfectly legitimate reasons for planning this "I Do, Part 2" ceremony. Never mind that we based every decision for the Florida wedding off the fact we'd have this ceremony.

We are stupid, stupid people. We should be commited.

If the fact we're having a second wedding doesn't make us crazy enough for such drastic intervention, I assure you this week has gotten me to that point.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Communicating with clients! Imagine that!

The new hair & makeup lady texted me this afternoon to confirm our trial appointment tomorrow.

I'm likin' this lady already!

I just fired my hair/makeup person

I had three vendors I was trying to get in touch with yesterday. I got ahold of two of them. The third, my hair & makeup person, was still MIA.

I hadn't heard from her since last Tuesday (5/5). And that email had taken multiple emails on my part. She had asked if I'd be available for a trial on Thursday, May 14 (which is now tomorrow). I immediately emailed her back saying that should work, but asking for a specific time. I didn't hear from her.

I tried her again on Friday, when I sent her an email telling her I'd heard from all of my bridesmaids, and they would be doing their own hair and makeup. Still no answer.

I gave her the weekend, and Monday I was too swamped and forgot to email her. So I emailed her yesterday morning. Still no answer.

I called her late yesterday afternoon. You guessed it: No answer.

I texted AJ: "She better give you commission for my business, because if you hadn't recommended her, I'd have given up on her 2 wks ago."

AJ couldn't believe I still hadn't heard from her. She told me she had a great backup, and she gave me her information. I called the new hair & makeup lady, but I got her voicemail. I left her a message. She returned my call 30 minutes later!!! [cue angels singing]

I finally got an email from the first girl at 11:15 last night. By that point, it was too late. I had to email her this morning to fire her. I did it politely and very nicely (and no, I did not use the word "fired").

I've never had to fire anyone before, so it sucked that I had to do it. But I have enough to worry about without adding the fear that my hair & makeup girl won't show up on the day of the ceremony.

When did I become a babysitter?

Dear Cake Lady,

You told me on May 4 that you'd be calling me the next day to discuss our wedding cake and groom's cake. I still haven't heard from you.

Considering that my wedding is 11 days away, I thought maybe it would be a good idea if we could get this shit planned already.

Sincerely,
Girl Who Would Find a New Baker If She Had More Than 11 Days to Go

_______________________

Dear Hair & Makeup Lady,

After several attempts to get in touch with you the previous couple of weeks, I finally heard from you late last week. You never told me for sure that you'd be available to do my hair and makeup for the ceremony, but since you said you wanted to do a trial this Thursday, I'm taking that as an all-clear.

And since Thursday is two days away, if you could answer my third email attempt to find out a specific time for said trial appointment, I'd appreciate it. I'd also really like it if you'd answer me about where your office is.

Thanks for sucking at communication,
Girl Who Would Totally Use Someone Else If AJ Hadn't Spoken So Highly of You

_______________________

Dear Hotel Coordinator Lady,

Thank you for your offer to do two shuttle runs from the hotel to our reception site for our guests. I really appreciate it, and if you're still able to do it, that'll save us a little bit of money since we'll just have to pay for a shuttle at the end of the night.

However, I'd really appreciate it if you would answer me on whether that offer still stands and if we can work it out for just the beginning of the night. I understand I can't be too upset with you since I'm not paying you for this service, but at the same time, yours is our primary hotel, so we've brought you a good amount of business for next week -- and you did offer this service to us.

Please answer my dang email so I can book the shuttle for the end of the night.

Thanks,
Frustrated Chick Who Is SO Never Getting Married Again! (twice is plenty, thank you)

What a creep!

Today is a warm, muggy day, and it's the first day we haven't had rain in the forecast in weeks. I wanted to wear something cute and girly to celebrate, and I had a new, short-sleeved knit shrug that made me feel confident I could wear a summery dress to work without freezing to death. I paired it with some brown Old Navy flip-flops and was good to go.

Until my right flip-flop decided to break late this morning. For some reason, the bottom of the toe strap just popped off, so I had to get extra creative with my fix. When shoving a pushpin into the end of the strap didn't hold, I bent up a paper clip, which I was able to work farther into the strap. It seemed to hold better. I was determined to not have to go home because of a flip-flop malfunction. I'm not wasting this cute outfit, dang it!

Around lunch, it was time to take Piper outside (I can take her to work, remember?). It's a pretty decent haul down several flights of stairs and through a couple hallways to take her out, but I tried my best to walk gently to avoid messing up my quick fix.

I guess I wasn't gentle enough, because my flip-flop was definitely looser. I lifted my foot and could see that the paper clip was starting to follow the strap through the bottom of my shoe and out the top of the flip-flop. I hobbled over to a curb and sat down to fix it. I pointed myself at the parking garage, rather than toward the outside parking lot or the road. I figured it was the best direction to go to avoid flashing anyone (just in case). Besides, there was a huge white truck parked in the spot closest to me. It would block the rest of the garage from seeing anything so I could focus on fixing my flip-flop.

After doing the best I could to fix my shoe, I put it back on and stood up. Then, I heard the truck start in the garage.

"Awesome."

I hadn't been sprawled all over the curb, but if I'd known I had a possible audience, I'd have stretched my legs out in front of me more. I had been sitting low to the ground, so my knees were high in front of me. My dress is about knee-length, so no one could have seen down it, but they could have seen underneath it, since I hadn't tucked the back/bottom of my skirt between my knees. (I thought the truck was guarding me!)

Still, I wasn't sure the driver had seen anything. I headed to the grass and leaned over to pick up after Piper. When I stood up, the light caught something shiny and silver from within the cab of the truck.

It was either a digital camera or a mini-video camera. And it was pointed right at me.

My jaw dropped to the ground. I'd seen this truck in the garage for weeks! He was always in the same spot. As a matter of fact, I'd parked right by him this morning. But I had no idea who the driver was. I couldn't see him clearly enough to tell if I even recognized him, but I could tell it was a man.

I made sure that the rest of the time I was out there, I was glaring at him, just in case he looked at me again (I still couldn't really see him).

I'm not sure if he videotaped me or took a picture. And I'm not sure if he did the same while I was sitting on the curb. I'm not sure if the angle he got was down the front of my dress, or if I had turned my back to him and he'd managed to pick up the outline of my no-panty-lines-please underwear that only shows when you stretch the dress to try to test the panty lines (meaning the underwear outline also may show if I do bend over). Either way, I'm not cool with the fact this guy was recording ANY of this.

I'm seriously contemplating leaving a bitchy note on his windshield.

How are we supposed to play this game if we don't know the rules?!

As if wedding planning wasn't doing a fabulous job of filling my spare time (and downtime at work -- shh!), now that we know when and where we're going next, I've found a new hobby: house hunting.

I found two homes that I absolutely love. K loves them too. I got excited about the possibility of living in one of them (or a house like them) in less than three months.

And then I read that you shouldn't buy a house if you're going to live in it less than three years. Shit.

K is assigned to this base for only two years. After that, he'll be sent halfway across the country for a training course.

But ...

The housing market is crap right now. It's a great time to buy. And since things are looking like they're headed up, it seems logical that the housing market will improve over the next couple of years as well.

Plus, this home (whether we rent or buy) will be in the Virginia Beach area. There are several military bases there, and evidently the area is a pretty nice tourist destination (according to the Internet, anyway -- K and I have ever been).

I spent some time yesterday looking through rental houses in Virginia Beach. I found a few I liked, and K liked them too. The ones we loved were in the neighborhood of $2,000 a month.
That seems like a lot of money to just be giving away to someone each month. And multiplying that sum for the course of 24 months?! Wow ...

Now, we're stuck on what to do. Does the situation and location make it OK to throw the three years rule out the window?

19

We just have 19 days to go until I Do, Part 2. Nineteen days to keep trying to get ahold of our baker and my hair person (they suck at communicating).

Nineteen days to design & print programs and table numbers. And thank you cards. (Worst decision ever. I've told everyone I know who's planning a wedding that it's totally worth it to have someone else do them for you.)

Nineteen days left of stressing: What if no one else comes? What if the ceremony is just us and dates of the people in the wedding party? Why have so many people not RSVP'd yet? Is this all going to be worth it?

Nineteen days until I can get my life back. Oh, please let it be worth it!

I guess I can start going through my wardrobe now

My apartment office requires 60 days' written notice before you move out -- even if your lease is up. My lease ends at the end of June. With a giant question mark STILL looming over my entire summer, I was getting a little anxious. Sure, I'd have the whole military orders clause on my side if I needed it, but I didn't want to have to deal with it.

The Army had kept us waiting on the details of the impending move for months and months and months, and for some reason, yesterday I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I don't think a couple months' notice of the concrete details of how drastically my life is about to change is too much to ask. I talked to K about it and begged him to stay on the people in whatever office it is that could tell us his next career move.

This morning, when I called K as I left for work, he told me he finally had information about our next assignment. Good thing: I had my vacating notice in hand and was about to deliver it to the leasing office.

When I handed it over to one of the ladies there, she asked, "Do you have a forwarding address yet?"

I thought to myself, Woman, I didn't even know where I was going until this morning!

But I smiled and shrugged.

"Virginia."

Realization

It's easier (even if it's slightly more stressful) to have K half a world away in Iraq than to have him five hours in Louisiana.

At least when he's in Iraq, I know I can't be with him on a daily basis. Here, as the days go by, the reasons for my staying in Dallas make less and less sense.

If K winds up staying in Louisiana, I just may move as soon as we know. Why drag it out?

OH. MY. GOSH.

This totally changes my answer to the whole, "What's the first thing you would do if you were a man?" question.

I'm makin' an entrance!

Miss Amy tagged me for this meme two months and one day ago, and for some reason as I laid in bed this morning trying to catch another 45 minutes of sleep after my workout and before getting ready for work, I remembered I still haven't done it.

Oops.

So here it is, fashionably late. I'm supposed to reveal 10 things about myself, and then tag 7 other people. Well, since it's so late, you've probably all done this thing, so I'm tagging no one. If you want to do it, feel free, but I won't hate you if you don't.

1) I suck at parking. I'm so bad that a lot of times, I'll straight up open my door, peek at the parking line and then readjust. It's a rare occurrence when I manage to park in a straight line, and it kind of makes me want to do a happy dance.

If I ever manage to park in a straight line and be perfectly centered in my parking spot, it won't do me good for long because I'll immediately climb back in my car and floor it to the closest gas station so I can buy a Lotto ticket.

2) I recently realized that if I gain any weight at all, the place it becomes most obvious, unfortunately, is my face. A 5-lb weight gain can evidently make the difference between me having cheekbones or a round, fuller face. (Which evidently leads to my FIL calling me fat.)

3) I am not inviting my mom to the Dallas wedding. I made this decision several times, which means I faltered on it several times. But every single time I started doubting not inviting her, something would happen to remind me why I had decided to exclude her to begin with. This time, I'm sticking to my guns.

4) I am one of those people who works really hard to stay in touch with friends. Which is funny, since several of my good friends, including K, are terrible at staying in touch. I used to wonder if maybe these friends were better about keeping in touch with other friends, but they just didn't think I was worth trying to keep up with. Or I'd wonder if they were leading such amazing lives that they didn't have time to answer the phone or return calls. Now, although I still don't quite understand why, I know keeping in touch is just not everyone's forte.

5) I really, really want to go on Wheel of Fortune. I would rock at that game.

6) I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. I have a good job with some awesome perks and a pretty decent salary, but I'm ready for a change. I just don't know that this economy and the potential move location (whichever it may be) will make this the best time for a change.

7) K is the most amazing person I've ever met. He makes me feel so lucky, and sometimes the part of me that worries I'm like my mom feels like I don't deserve him.

8) I have a closet full of solid-colored shirts of various styles (3/4 sleeve, short sleeve, long sleeve, knit, cotton, cable-knit, etc) and a drawer full of tank tops of various styles (lots with lacy trim, a few patterned, and a lot of solids) for layering. This is because if I see a cute patterned shirt, I worry that it'll be too obvious where it's from or that everyone else will have the skirt, shirt or dress in the same fabric, so I usually don't buy it (especially if it's in the store's ads a lot). And I don't want to buy a shirt with a company's logo on it because if I'm going to advertise for them, they should just give me the shirt! So it's solids and layering for me ... unless I find a cute striped shirt or polka-dotted tank. (Exciting, huh?)

9) When I booked our reception venue two years ago, the reception coordinator asked me my favorite wedding-related thing I'd ever seen. She said it could be anything -- color mix, flowers, ceremony idea, picture ... whatever -- and it could be something I'd seen in real life or a movie. I immediately knew exactly what my answer was: a scene from Love Actually, my favorite movie ever. It's the part right after Keira Knightley gets married. Just as she and her new husband turn to walk down the aisle and exit the church, a small choir appears in the loft and starts singing "All You Need Is Love." An amazing soloist comes out and picks up the melody, and small groups of musicians stand up and play from within the congregation. That scene makes me so happy, and it makes me cry every time. Ever since I answered that question with the coordinator, I've secretly hoped that K arranges something like that at the end of our wedding. (Lots of band people will be there!) I'm pretty sure I would just die of happiness right then if he did. (Readers I know outside the blogosphere, feel free to drop that bird in K's ear -- but don't tell me if you do!)

10) I hate card games.

We're like the Sonic couple, only cooler

K (who's half-Italian): "They have this sandwich called the Italian."
Me (being a ball-buster): "Sounds disgusting."
K: "It has pepperoni on it."
Me: "Did you not hear me?"
K: "Babe, part of marriage is blowing the other person off."

Bringing the fight back home

I've blogged about how K's homecoming was a little more of an adjustment than I thought it would be. I guess we weren't the only ones having that problem.

I always thought the hard part of all of this would be the deployment -- that if you can make it through those long months of separation, you're in the clear. Sure, it would take time and some getting used to as far as having the soldier home again, but it's all an adjustment that surely families and spouses would be glad to make. Evidently that's not really the case.

I just learned last night that a couple we're friends with (the fiance I went to visit in Daytona last summer) has broken off their engagement. Another couple we're close to is fighting nonstop (Yet they're still ring shopping, for some reason. They've been together almost as long as K and I.). It seems every week I hear of more couples fresh off of the deployment who are getting a divorce for whatever reason (sometimes due to things they learned their spouse did during the deployment) .

Thankfully, K and I are doing just fine. While his return was an adjustment, it was never anything to make me worry that we wouldn't make it. Change is just something you have to deal with in any long-term relationship; it's just part of life.

Obviously I don't know all the details that led up to the problems our friends and others are having after this deployment. It breaks my heart that several of them have gone through such a challenging time, only to fall apart when they should be getting to celebrate being together again.

I don't know if this epidemic is common after a deployment of this length, but the whole thing has definitely been a learning experience for me. I've heard K's friends mention a few times how deployments can make or break a relationship (I can't even tell you how many couples got engaged or married before the tour or during R&R), but I always thought that was really more true for couples who are just dating.

K and I have both been surprised by the number of couples calling it quits. But it's a good reminder to be a little more patient as K continues to settle in back home, to be even more grateful for having him here, and most of all, to be sure I don't take K or any part of our relationship for granted.

Why does the military hate me?

Remember how absolutely, ridiculously anxious I was to get engaged to K? I thought once we got engaged, we would soon be married, and that would mean that we'd get to live in the same place. I was definitely ready for that.

So we got engaged, and we wound up getting married quite a bit quicker than we'd thought -- because K deployed. Not only did getting married not lead us to living in the same place, but it left us living on different continents, on different sides of the world, with a 9-hour time difference. Boy, was the joke on me!

But, as you know, after 14 months away, K came home. And we were anxiously awaiting the list that would tell us where we'd get to live together (FINALLY) for the first time in our four-year relationship.

Our top three preferences -- Colorado, Seattle, Hawaii -- are among the most popular choices of places to be stationed, so we really didn't expect all of them to be on our list. K's branch manager -- the powerful wizard who compiles this list based off of all the needs and openings in the entire U.S. Army -- had told K that with the rough few years he's had (three deployments in addition to spending a year in Korea, and being stationed in two of the most undesirable posts in all of the Army), they'd try their best to get us in one of those places.

We were pretty excited for this list, since it would tell us where we'd spend our first three years living in the same state, city and home. I couldn't wait to know our choices so I could daydream about our combined lives in whatever charming cities the list held.

We waited and waited. Well, we finally got the list a couple weeks ago. And we've hardly shared it with anyone.

Frankly, we're a little annoyed by it. This is the not-so-fabulous compilation of choices K and I were given for where we will spend the next three years together:

• Korea
• the California desert (right between Death Valley & the Mohave Desert)
• Boise, ID
• Virginia
• Louisiana (where K is currently stationed)
• (potential option) ROTC position in Kansas

As for Korea, K has been there, done that. Not to mention the fact that I'm not quite ready for a move of that scale.

The Cali desert? I'm not living anywhere near a place with "Death" in its name.

Boise? The job is actually one K has no interest in whatsoever. In fact, he once told me if he had to do this type of job, he'd want to shoot himself. That would not be good for our marriage.

Virginia? We love the state, and we'd both love to live there someday. The trouble is -- once again -- the job. K would be in an office all day, and he really wants to have more interaction with soldiers. So would loving the area make up for being in a job you hate?

Two places on the list offer jobs right up K's alley: Louisiana and Kansas.

Teeny, tiny, nothing-around-for-miles, Louisiana. In a town where they call Wal-Mart "the mall." Where your only options to eat (besides fast-food chains) are a hibachi grill, a Mexican restaurant, and one of those steakhouses where you throw peanut shells on the ground.

Where we could afford a really nice house, since no one wants to live there. Where no one would ever want to visit us (not that I'd blame them). Where we'd be a decently short drive away from Florida for beach vacations, and Oklahoma to see my family and go to football games.

Where K would be very well taken care of, since the colonel (who, in K's review, called him "the best Captain in this battalion" and said of K's recent time in Iraq, "He played the biggest role in the unit's stunning success in quelling the insurgency") has already told us he'd have K work for him again.

Where I'd have no idea what to do job-wise.

Where we've been anxious to leave for the last few years ...

Which leaves us with Kansas. Which may not even become available.

The only pros about all the items on this list are that K is guaranteed to NOT deploy in the next three years. Considering he's been gone 18 of the last 36 months, we're OK with that. (But you better believe I was 100% freakin' serious when I asked K if we could get that "guarantee" in writing!)

So it looks like we've got some thinking to do. And it would also seem that, once again with the U.S. Army, the joke's on me. Awesome.