It's a C Life

Recently, I read To Heaven and Back by Dr. Mary Neal. Per Amazon, “To Heaven and Back is Mary’s remarkable story of her life’s spiritual journey and what happened as she moved from life to death to eternal life, and back again. Detailing her feelings and surroundings in heaven, her communication with angels, and her deep sense of sadness when she realized it wasn’t her time, Mary shares the captivating experience of her modern-day miracle.” Before I delve into this, let me give you some of my personal back story.

I was raised in the church and many many many of my early childhood memories are either within the church itself or surrounded by our church family. It truly wasn’t until my teens that I stopped going to church and even then, I didn’t question my faith; that was in my 20′s. I’ve been fairly vocal about my thoughts on religion, particularly organized religion. Beyond that, though, I just have so so many questions about the ideal of Christianity itself. I find a lot to be contradictory. For example, I’ve heard many a’Christian say God made us to be just the way we are. I am of the belief that people are BORN gay, they do not actively decide to be that way. Christians believe that being gay is a CHOICE, and more so, being gay is a sin; but who woke up and decided that they wanted to be straight? Why is being straight, which doesn’t seem to me to be a choice, it is just who I am, not a sin? Point being, I find things that just don’t seem logical to me with the teachings I grew up with and, I decided, if I can’t fully believe in these teachings, then I’m not going to believe at all.

Years back, I met a wonderful, wonderful woman who viewed religion in a similar manner as me. She became terminally sick and I had the opportunity to go see her one final time before she passed away. While visiting her in the hospital, though she was unconscious, I told her that, if she finds out God is real, she better let me know. That evening, she was gone. A few days later, while at a store, I saw this little plaque that said, “If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I’d walk right up to Heaven, and bring you home again.” This instantly made me teary eyed and then I saw, laying next to the plaque My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult. This book is my favorite book, but beyond that, my friend who passed... we called each other soul sisters. Was that my sign? At the time, I certainly took it as such. After the couple years I’ve had to reflect on that moment and how I was feeling at the time, I realize taking that as a sign had less to do with any confirmation of a Heaven, and therefore a God, and more to do with someone who is physically not with us anymore being able to see us and still communicate with us.

So, I reached a point in my life where I decided I needed to at least open myself back up to the idea of a God. While I haven’t done much by way of truly exploring God again, I have picked up the Bible on occasion. There are some of you I have had numerous religious conversations with. Sometimes I go deep. Sometimes the answers I’m given or the scripture I’m referred to still don’t make sense to me. I still have a million questions. I’ve learned, though, that sometimes, there just aren’t answers; you just have to believe. I think I’m to the point where I can believe in a higher power. The God I want to believe in may not be the God YOU want to believe in, though, and I think that’s alright since so much about Christianity is subject to 900 different interpretations. I choose to believe in a God that isn’t so Old Testament. I want my God to not think I need to go to church and tithe. I want to believe in a God that accepts all people for who they are, despite their race, creed, orientation, political views, and whether or not they can run a mile in under an hour. I want to believe in a God that sees me as his child and understands I’m going to make millions of mistakes, and he’s not going to be happy with me every single day, but he still loves me. I want my God to be happy when I come back to him, and to not be surprised when I might stray and focus on other things in my life.

In my quest to continue to garner knowledge about the almighty powers above, I purchased and read this book. Here are my thoughts. Please be warned there are spoilers ahead:

This woman, a doctor, made it very obvious from the beginning that she is strong in her faith and has always been a believer, which is interesting coming from someone in the medical field. Interesting but inspiring. She has had a number of life experiences that have continued to prove to her there is a God. On an international trip, she goes on a kayaking excursion and her boat becomes lodged in a waterfall. The team that she is with cannot locate her right away and she basically drowns. She describes being aware that she was dying, but believing that Jesus was with her and holding her during this time. She felt at peace and was not scared. Once her kayak was located and she was pulled from the water, CPR was started immediately. During this time, she describes meeting these beings, what I’m lead to believe were angels, but also being able to see her body and the efforts being taken to revive her. She details how she would be with the angels, then be pulled back to her body to take a breath, then she would go back to the angels, which she found frustrating because she just wanted to move on. Away from her body and with the angels, she makes it to this room and is then told it is not her time. She then goes back to her body for good. By this description alone, I don’t believe she made it to Heaven at all. Maybe she saw angels, that I can believe. She describes nothing about Heaven, though, outside of making it to this room only to be immediately turned around. This whole “recounting” of her time in Heaven is told in a matter of a few pages. Her story goes on and you learn about her recovery, where she describes a few separate times while in the hospital of having conversations with Jesus, where all her questions were answered. Conveniently, she was probably on a lot of pain medication at the time, like morphine, which can cause hallucinations, and she also doesn’t go into ANY DETAIL whatsoever about the questions that were answered. She does say that she was told she needs to be there for her family, that her husband was going to need her, and she needed to help her family get past what happens with their son.  This book was a good book about having a positive spirit and dealing with life as it comes. Dr. Neal has lived through some very trying things and it makes for a good story; she just didn’t go to Heaven. I can’t tell you if she came up with the title of this book or not; maybe it’s a marketing ploy, but I can only believe as the writer, it was her title to come up with. This title is a blatant lie. I realize that might come off harsh... but I’m not even sorry.  I would still recommend reading the book, just know if you’re really looking to read someone’s experience in Heaven, you aren’t going to get it here.

Reading this book also brought up a few questions for me. I have heard that drowning is a very peaceful way to die. Now, I could research this further if I wanted to and I’m sure I could find that there are some kind of endorphins released when your body is starved for oxygen that are released which bring about a sense of euphoria, peace, whatever. So, could that be why she felt so at peace when she realized she was dying? Also, if you aren’t truly dead, can you even get into Heaven? Isn’t that like a requirement at the pearly gates to begin with? On the other hand, I can see God being the kind of person to allow a few people who are near death to view what they have to look forward to - but not yet. I can see God being the kind of person to turn those people around and hope they spread the word that Heaven is for Real. (That is also a book, a much better book than this one was as far as stories about Heaven go). If the latter is the case, how does God pick and chose who gets a VIP pass to Heaven? Is it favoritism? Is it to give people who may not believe a chance to change their minds before it’s too late? And if THAT is the case, shouldn’t that same opportunity be afforded to all people? And if it IS afforded to all people, what’s the point of walking in faith every day of your life? Wouldn’t it be more fun to live your life exactly how you want to live without fear of spending eternity in the fiery pits of Hell because you’ll be given a chance to turn it all around before you’re REALLY dead? But what about the people who DON’T have near death experiences? Now I’m rambling... 

If you’re from Indiana and you’re my age, you may have heard the name Ryan White, but you can’t place where you heard it from. If you’re older, you may remember he was in the news a lot. If you’re older than that, you know exactly who I’m talking about. If you’re younger, and have no clue who Ryan White is, you need to take a field trip to the Indianapolis Children’s Museum and educate yourself.

Earlier this year, I took my tots to the Children’s Museum and had a jolly holiday. I didn’t really expect to gain much from that day, other than just having a good time with my favorite little humans, but I came away with a story that kind of changed my life. At the museum, there is an exhibit called The Power of Children Making a Difference. This exhibit houses the stories of 3 children throughout history: Anne Frank, Ruby Bridges, and Ryan White. Ryan White was born and raised in Kokomo, Indiana. He was born a severe hemophiliac. To treat this, he was given Factor 8, or Factor as it is often referred to. Factor 8 is a blood product administered to hemophiliacs to help their blood clot. Back in the 80s, the blood supply was tainted and thousands of hemophiliacs were diagnosed with AIDS, among those, Ryan White, who, at the age of 13, was the first teenager to be diagnosed. At that time, AIDS was a new disease and very little was known about it. Once the community Ryan grew up in found out about the disease, he was unable to go back to school. This is how Ryan became famous - he entered into a one-year court battle with the school system to earn back his right to attend school and continue his education. Ryan fought the disease for 5 and a half years before passing away in April of 1990 at the age of eighteen. Along his journey, he came in contact with many famous people, allowing him to reach out to a wide audience and educate our country as well as other countries (his family was able to take a trip to Italy to educate the Italians about AIDS, who knew that they would have hemophiliacs diagnosed with AIDS and didn’t want to treat their people as Ryan had been treated at home). Today, his mom still travels across the country speaking about her son and continuing to promote education about the disease that took her son. Sometimes, her daughter, Andrea, joins her. 

After seeing this exhibit, learning a little about a boy who was so close to home, who experienced such discrimination, prejudice, and harsh judgement, I needed to know more. Ryan wrote a book called: Ryan White My Own Story. If you haven’t read it, you should. The book was originally published in 1991; Ryan passed before he ever got to see the number of people his story truly touched. A movie was also filmed about Ryan’s initial diagnosis of AIDS and the battle he fought to go back to school. That film is called The Ryan White Story and it’s available on Netflix. If you haven’t seen it, you should watch it. Even then, even after reading his book and watching the movie, I didn’t feel like I knew enough. More than that, I felt like I was in mourning for someone I didn’t even know, and months later, I still feel that way.

I follow the Children’s Museum page on Facebook and saw that Ryan’s mom and sister would be at the Children’s Museum around the 4th of July. I messaged my mom and asked if she wanted to go, she agreed, and off we went. Seeing Ryan’s exhibit takes on a whole new meaning when you experience it with his mom and sister. First, I thought a majority of the things inside the exhibit were just replicas. Wrong. Everything down to the bed, the slippers, the backpack, and the GI Joe’s belonged to Ryan. The “house” that his bedroom is in is modeled after the house in Cicero, Indiana, where the Whites later moved to after leaving Kokomo, right down to the slanted ceilings and the window with Ryan’s name in it. (I later read an article that said his family put up red letters spelling out “Ryan” in his bedroom window after he passed so that people driving by would know exactly where his bedroom was). I was amazed to hear Jeanne, Ryan’s mom, say that, 27 years later, it hasn’t gotten any better, and she still misses her son every day. It didn’t necessarily surprise me, but people always say time heals all wounds; sometimes that just isn’t true. Jeanne gave a short and simple speech, going through the timeline of Ryan’s birth to his death, and then did a short Q&A session. I had one simple question: How did she pick the pallbearers. If you don’t know, you can google images of Ryan’s funeral, and the majority of his pallbearers were celebrities - Elton John, Howie Long, Phil Donahue. However, I could not, for the life of me, muster up the nerve to speak even one word to Jeanne or Andrea. They dismissed the room, and all the guests could come up and get a red wristband that said “Remembering Ryan White” as they filtered out. (Which I’ve worn every day since then). My mom went up to Andrea, said a few words to her, and then moved to Jeanne, where she introduced herself and spoke about how she grew up very close to Kokomo and couldn’t believe the reaction of that community and what their family went through. Jeanne and my mom, as true Hoosiers, talked as if they were buddies from day one, which I’m forever grateful for because I was allowed to hear more of the story than any guests that day; I got more of an insight into a life I’m so fascinated by. Still, I couldn’t speak. To this day, I KICK myself for not saying anything. Now, I have a TON of questions: How were the pallbearers picked? Did Ryan have any idea that he was going to be put into a coma and never wake up again? (In his final days, Ryan was so sick. His doctors thought, if they put his body in a coma, it would slow things down and allow the medicine they were giving him to work better. It didn’t). How did Andrea deal with their family being thrust into the limelight? Did she get jealous of Ryan? When Ryan passed, did she feel guilty for ever being jealous? When he was originally diagnosed with AIDS, they believed Ryan would only live 3-6 months so, once he lived past that, did they think he would live forever? With each passing year Ryan was alive and continuing to fight, did they think he would “beat” the disease? Did Ryan ever talk about wanting a family of his own or did he know that would never happen? A MILLION QUESTIONS. I may never ever ever get to ask those but Ryan’s story means even more to me after that day than it did before whether I know every iota of his story or not. (But still, if you know those answers, email me!)

This is why Ryan’s story is important: While it’s important that we continue to educate ourselves when it comes to various diseases and it’s important to strive for cures across the board, Ryan’s story speaks to me on a level almost completely separate from his disease. This was a kid who went through bullying, discrimination from peers AND THEIR PARENTS, who should have KNOWN better, and had the majority of the community he had known since he was born turn their backs on him. This is a story, I’m positive, MANY people have suffered through without having a terminal disease to battle. Ryan didn’t get mad though and he didn’t seek revenge; he knew people were scared and they were acting out of fear. He, at such a young age, understood how they felt, even if he didn’t agree with how they reacted. THAT’S what I took from his story. He wasn’t going to try to FORCE someone to like him or to be around him; if you were scared, then you were scared. Sure, you were ignorant, but you didn’t know any better. What he would try to do is educate those who were willing to listen, not for the benefit of himself, but so that others wouldn’t have to experience what he had to go through. WHO DOES THAT?? He was a hemophiliac his whole life and already had to live by a different set of standards: not being able to participate in sports (though his mom did say he played baseball for one year and was terrible at it), always having to be careful so he didn’t get a bleed, and then he gets AIDS on top of that, which literally destroyed his body, and all he wanted to do was educate people. (Well that and go to school). How simply amazing and compassionate was he? 

What I learned from Ryan is that, for all the physical and mental pain he suffered, he continued to push through with a smile. He continued to advocate for those who didn’t have a voice and because of that, medicine has made so many significant advances when it comes to AIDS. He understood that holding on to anger wouldn’t do himself any good and he forgave those who didn’t ask for it nor did they really deserve it. He handled his illness with dignity and grace beyond his years. While those years may have been cut incredibly short, his example lives on. 

It’s been a long long time since I’ve written anything. There are reasons for that: I’ve been busy, I’ve been lazy, mostly I’ve been going through a lot emotionally and mentally when it comes to a lot of different aspects of my life. When I was younger, that used to be the fuel I needed to pour everything out on paper. Now, I’m a little more cautious. I can’t decide if that’s a blessing or a curse. What I do know is that, throughout everything, the recurring theme that seems to come to the light is forgiveness.

I had a best friend. I lost a best friend. It was like going through a divorce, I would imagine. You go from this person knowing every little nuance about you, being the person you turn to in joy and in sorrow, and then suddenly, they’re gone. I went years carrying around anger and resentment. Instead of working through it, I didn’t really accept responsibility in how things transpired, and cut that person out of my life. I’m really super good at that. I don’t often give people second chances. I operated under the motto, “Fool me once and I’ll never give you the chance to do it a second time.” Self-defense has always been my m.o.. Recently, after torturing myself for so long missing this person and wishing it would just magically get better, I reached out. I apologized. She messaged back and said there was no reason to apologize, that I was long forgiven. Now we’re catching up and it feels so so good. Where this will lead, I’m not sure, but I’m certainly glad I took that step, and I’m just happy to know I can message her at any time and we can talk almost as if no time has passed. We forgave each other.

I’ve been married a smidgen over two years now. I always heard the first year of marriage is hard but I’d like to know when it stops being hard. We’ll have been together for a total of 4 years in June and we’re still learning things about each other constantly and we’ve still got a lot to figure out. Our most recent issue was publicized for anyone to judge and comment on. I suppose that’s one of the perks of living in an era where everything is blasted on social media, whether it should be or not.I was so mad he went to the “public” to try to figure out who was right, instead of trying to figure out how to work with ME on OUR marriage and not expecting that what might work for EVERYONE ELSE will be the solution for US. (While I realize there may be some irony here, making that statement when I was mad at him for his post, but I’m a writer and he’s a gamer so I feel like I have more liberties. And if you don’t know me or know my sense of humor, then you won’t understand the sarcastic nature of that statement, and I won’t care; you’ll just have to get over it). That’s one instance of one time in the 4 years I’ve been with this man that I’ve had to practice forgiveness, if for no other reason than to keep myself from strangling him. (Please see above reference to sarcastic sense of humor). However, I’m not completely innocent in this marriage, I am flawed myself, and if I expect to be forgiven when I know I’m wrong, I certainly have to be willing to give forgiveness when I know he is wrong, even when he thinks he’s right and doesn’t ask for forgiveness. So, a few days ago, I forgave him for the Facebook fiasco and we’ve come together stronger, with a better understanding of one another. I know, when something happens in the future, because it will, I’ll forgive him for that too, and hope he can do the same in return.

I’ve had issues with family but I don’t know that I can name one person who hasn’t. There have been insults hurled, there’s been name calling, and there’s been flat out refusal to see people on my part. I told you I was super good at cutting people out. At the time, I felt like I had to do that to protect myself, and I can’t say that, after having lived through it, I wouldn’t do it again in the future if it came down to it, but I can say it wasn’t the cure-all to the situation. It caused me pain on a daily basis, it caused my husband pain, and I’m sure it caused the other parties pain as well. I may not have been directly asked for forgiveness, but I didn’t need to be, I was just as guilty and I sure as heck wasn’t going to give up my pride to ask for forgiveness, so why would I expect it to be done in return? (That’s an issue I can probably work on as well, but one thing at a time). I forgave anyway, I said I was sorry, and I actively chose to move on. There are times I can’t help but think back on the past and wonder if history will repeat itself. I can say, however, that my life is significantly better and the baggage I carry is a lot less lighter just allowing myself to continue to move on, to build trust again, and to enjoy time spent with good people. 

In all the above situations, I’ve had to not only forgive other people, but I’ve had to forgive myself. I’ve been a crappy friend, I’m not always the best wife, and I’m not the best at knowing how to handle being within a family. I’ve had to accept that I’m only human, that I’m going to make mistakes - some mistakes bigger than others. I've had to give myself time to process everything and I’ve had to come to the understanding that, yes, there were times where I was wronged, but I also played a part in wronging someone else. Sure, I can say screw them and cut them out, but I still carry around the pain and the guilt by doing so. I had to look at these situations and allow myself to learn from it and to grow. I had to come to the understanding that Emily is not always right and I HATED coming to that conclusion. I used to be SO sure of myself; even when I was flat out wrong, my belief in myself and my reactions and my responses NEVER wavered. Sometimes I miss that... but NOW I know to take a step back, and maybe I don’t step back until after most of the chips have fallen, but I still know to take a step back and ask myself, “What did I do or say there that I could have avoided to make this outcome different?” I may still be quick tempered, I may snap back way too quickly, I may still use my words to cut people, but I TRY to really think before I bare my fangs, I try to remain calm, and I try to find the least offensive way to express myself. I forgave myself and, knowing I’m still a work in progress, I continue forgiving myself.

The election is FINALLY over and we can all breathe a sigh of relief. Just kidding! With Facebook these days, there’s no relief to be found. We, instead, get the pleasure of scrolling through 800,000,000,000,000 posts of disdain or pleasure, arguments and disagreements, God bless Americas and this country is doomed. I’ve seen a lot of things out there but I haven’t seen anything which reflects my thought on this whole thing; who would I be not to share? 

As a child, individuality, especially these days, is encouraged. We teach our children you’re allowed to grow up and be anything you want to be. You’re allowed to have thoughts and opinions about things, and those thoughts and opinions don’t have to be the same as EVERYBODY else. That doesn’t make those that disagree with you wrong, that makes them different. If we learn this when we’re young, why do we forget it when we’re grown?

Here in the United States of America, we have the right to vote and chose our leader. I think some people forget how amazing that opportunity is. I think some of people neglect to remember that there are numerous countries in this world where they are NOT provided that freedom. To exercise your right to vote, and to then be upset when the vote doesn’t go your way and to make sure everyone around you knows it, to me is just wrong. Do you want that right stripped away from you? Should those who ONLY vow to vote the same way as you be given the right to vote and if you think the answer to that is yes, do you comprehend that’s not the way democracy works? Why, now, are people NOT allowed to have a different opinion than you? To me, the constant complaining and the constant negativity reflects that sentiment. How about remembering another lesson we were taught when we were young; you win some, you lose some. How about saying, “Well that’s not what I wanted,” shrugging your shoulders, and letting it go? 

I’m going to be honest, I’ve restarted this blog about seventeen times. I don’t know how to write about 2015 without being negative, I just don’t, and it’s a little sad considering I got married last year and that should be the sparkle I need to have made the year an amazing one. Unfortunately, one day in an ivory dress does not make for the most phenomenal year in the history of ever.

If I can give anyone out there contemplating a wedding any advice, it would be this: DO. NOT. DO. IT. Save your money on the glitz and glamour, go to the courthouse, and use your well saved money to go on a fabulous honeymoon far far away from where you live. Do NOT give up what you want on your special day, do not sacrifice your ultimate happiness, do not bend to someone else’s will just to keep the peace. While I enjoyed the day just fine, I could’ve done without it, could’ve been okay seeing a few less faces, and been a lot happier. I love all of you who support me, love me, and have been a part of my life for years, but wouldn’t you have preferred we just have a cook out and play games instead of having to be all fancy? I vote yes. That aside, I am so happy to be married to Dan. He is the constant light I need in this dark dark world. Marriage certainly isn’t easy, but when you’re with a good person, you handle the ups and downs as a team and let each experience make you stronger. I wouldn’t change my decision to marry Dan, I would just change everything else about how it happened.

I lost one of my best friends this year in one of the worst ways possible. Social media is bittersweet when you’ve lost a friend. On one hand, there’s comfort in being able to go to their page and look back at pictures and funny things posted and remember how amazing that person was. On the other hand, it sucks when someone likes a post you made to that person and it shows up in your newsfeed today and you instantly start bawling in the Walmart parking lot because you really really really miss your friend and it’s the new year and they aren’t here and life is NOT fair. I have to think my dear ladybug was able to see some humor in the situation, being that Walmart is cry-worthy all on its own anyway. But there’s a tiny void there that no one or nothing will ever be able to fill and I ache over it sometimes.

Drama surrounded me this year no matter what I did. I admit that I may have brought some of it on myself, but even after apologies, it just would not go away. I’ve discovered that it just doesn’t matter what you do, sit silently or stand up for yourself, it will never be right to some people and I’ve just bowed out of trying anymore. I’ve also learned that, in doing so, it’s okay to chose peace over trying to force something that will never work. It’s okay to go on living life without the same supporting cast. Grey’s Anatomy does it, so Emily can too.

The last of the year ended on a high note. I hosted Thanksgiving at my house for the first time with my dad, made a turkey for the first time, and it came out DELICIOUS, which is good because turkey making is nerve wracking. Whew. We also hosted Christmas at my house and it was a great day. Good food, great presents, and we had such a good time talking and playing games. I was fortunate enough to see my dad for both holidays this year. That rarely ever happens because of his work schedule. Even better were ALL the siblings were present on Thanksgiving and that makes my heart happy.

I’m blessed to have a great husband, Dan, who has stood by me through all the joys and sorrows this year has brought. I’ve got amazingly supportive friends who were there to celebrate and comfort when I needed them the most; Amber, Josh, Alyssa (sisters can be friends) Nick, Kelly, Carly, Joe, Mark, Tracy, Lynnea, my mom (mom’s can be friends, too!) and RJ just to name a few. I’ve got some solid family who never wavered in their love of me. So regardless of my overall review of last year, I made it out alive with amazing people in my corner and I couldn’t ask for more...

I haven’t blogged in a reallllllly long time. I also haven’t read the Bible in a realllllly long time sooo there’s my explanation for that. Never fear! Someone kicked my butt in gear. (That rhymed for those of you who missed my awesomeness).

So, we started with Genesis and then we went ahead and skipped all the way to Peter because yolo. Also because I was directed in that direction. (Was that redundant or what?)

First, allow me to divulge the details of events that led up to me cracking open this heavy book to Peter. I was reading an article about how California had passed a law allowing Death by Dignity. (Support, btw.) In the article, it stated one side of the opposition stated this was wrong, that only God can decide when someone dies. I asked a friend, who also happens to be strong in faith, that if God has a plan for everyone’s life, and ultimately knows how each person passes, would that not be his will? I was just taught that basically God is the puppet master of everything and so, essentially, everything that happens to a person is at the hand of God. My friend didn’t really have a good answer for me, but encouraged me to get back to reading the Bible because it has all the answers.

I took this discussion home to the hubby and he told me that God created everyone to have free will. So, in this case, where someone may essentially commit suicide to avoid enduring a short time of living in pain, it isn’t necessarily God’s will, but God will do nothing to intervene. Yet, a woman has a baby that is stillborn, the infant didn’t have any time to do any sort of sin, and that is God’s will? REAL TALK. I did NOT like that answer at all. 1) Because I just hate when someone has a counterargument for my argument. 2) It just doesn’t make sense to me. Even REALER talk, I don’t necessarily like having religious discussions with my husband. He doesn’t read the Bible, he doesn’t go to church, but he tries to explain to me how God, Jesus, Mary, the Holy Ghost, and holy water works and THAT just doesn’t work for me. That point aside, I keep going back to the Lord’s prayer, the line “Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.” I just don’t understand how SOME things that happen, by Dan’s argument, can be classified as God’s will but OTHER things aren’t. Bad things happen to good people all the time and it’s often heard, “That’s God’s will.” But WHY?? Dan said that ever since Eve ate the apple and introduced sin into this world, it is said that bad things happen, sometimes to undeserving people, to pay for the world’s sin. Ooookkkkkayyyyy.... but who is “they?” Of course, that question was answered with, “I don’t know.”

Instead of continuing to go back and forth with him, I jumped right into the B-I-B-L-E and what do you know? I found some answers! I was instructed to read Peter and John. I don’t know my way around a bible so I just flipped through the pages until I found one of those names. As it turns out, Peter comes before John, just in case you want to know, so all’s well that ends well. This is what I found out. God sent Jesus. Jesus suffered like A TON. He was a good man, he didn’t say one bad word about anyone, he didn’t retaliate in any way, he just suffered because of all the sin and evil in the world that he had come to... avenge, kind of, something like that. Then he died. When he died, he was resurrected and taken back home, where all was right. We will suffer. We will suffer even if all we ever do in this life is good (however, let he who is without sin cast the first stone, mmkay. So, I accept a little bit of suffering). We are to suffer graciously, and if we can do so, we will be rewarded with the gift of eternal life... and hopefully Mexican food because that makes almost anything worth it. That, at least for me, answers why bad things happen to good people. Does it make sense? Eh, I guess. I mean it’s not fair, and that’s what I really struggle with. Life isn’t fair though, and according to the good word, we just have to maintain hope and faith that if we persevere and live a good life honoring God, we will be blessed in the end.

Very recently I stumbled upon a writer on CNN. She’s a Catholic and has never read the Bible cover to cover. In fact, she’s never really read the Bible at all; she’s just heard scripture during Mass. She decided to tackle the challenge and is documenting her progress in a weekly update.

Let’s just say I was inspired. As those of you who follow me know, I’ve announced my feelings on this subject before. I was raised in church, but as I’ve gotten older, have felt a lot of inconsistencies in what is taught and how I saw people of the church act, including those who preach every Sunday. The older I got, the less sense things made. I’ve had a lot of experiences that have turned me away from what I was taught and away from the belief that there is a God, just one, and that all the other religions who believe otherwise are just wrong. However, why not read the Bible myself? I don’t know that I expect it to change anything, but I have nothing to lose. If anything, I’ll be educating myself and probably doing something very few Christians themselves have done. (So haha).

Originally, I wasn’t going to blog about it because I don’t want this to end up being a war like my other religious blog was. However, I would like to discuss this journey with my friends who may have similar views as I and the ones who have opposing views. I want to learn and grow and be able to discuss how certain passages make me feel, how I interpret things, and be able to share that with others in the hopes of having a CONSTRUCTIVE discussion. (Besides, certain “friends” have been unfriended so my page is now a safe zone. :)  )

So... in the beginning, Emily read the book of Genesis. Before I really get into that, I just want to say that my biggest complaint about the Bible is the fact that it’s been translated and interpreted sooo many times, who knows if the words I’m reading today have been written as they were really meant to be read. Know what I mean? For instance, abomination today is generally used to say that something goes against God and is a sin. Abomination back in biblical times really just meant something that goes against the norm. Hyperhydrosis is not the norm, so therefore, I am an abomination....?? Just saying.

We all know that God created the heavens and Earth, animals, oceans, blah blah blah. He made Adam, then created Eve. Adam and Eve become a couple because “A man will leave his father and mother and be united with his wife. And the two people will become one.” Perhaps I am being way too literal here but... Adam didn’t really have a father, right? He FOR SURE didn’t have a mother. He was created from dust. ANYWAY, God makes this beautiful, luscious garden of Eden, with a fruit tree (apple, fig, who really cares) in the middle that you absolutely, under no circumstances, shall eat the fruit from. If you eat the fruit, God will kill you. Legit, that’s what my Bible says, death. So Eve eats the fruit, then Adam eats the fruit. They realize they’re naked and have to make clothing out of leaves but... God doesn’t kill them. Liar, liar pants on fire. Adam and Eve make babies, Cain, Abel, Seth (who no one talks about because he never offed his brother) yada yada.

Moving on, we get to the Noah section of the Bible, and for some reason, whatever new character is introduced, we have to go into their entire family tree, which is really annoying because I just don’t care. Noah had a son who had a son who had a son. Every first born child is ALWAYS a boy, which is really really really improbable. Again, just saying. We all know Noah, right? He built the ark, put every kind of animal on there, two by two by two. When you’re little, it’s a cute story. In reality, God was a very vengeful being who destroyed ALL of humanity, all species, minus those who were on the ark, because they didn’t act right. Don’t forget, though, that he created us to have freewill. (That’s why Eve was allowed to eat the apple/fig/who cares). In my Bible, it says that he destroyed the evil animals as well, which I got a kick out of because... lions are kings of the jungle (which is a weird saying because I think lions really live on the plains of Africa... tigers are more jungle creatures) and kill other animals but I’ve never once thought “Wow, that lion is just so evil.” After the majillion days of rain and then the majillion more days it takes for the land to dry out, Noah’s descendants settle in Babylonia. When they settled, they all spoke one language. God came to visit, saw the people were united, and said, “Come, let us go down and confuse their language. Then they will not be able to understand each other.” WHY? I just don’t get it. I can only imagine the chaos caused by separating people by putting up language barriers. I mean, it drives me nuts when someone calls me at work and I can’t understand them.

After Noah, you read about Abraham, who was originally called Abram, who was married to Sarai, who later became Sarah. I don’t 100% understand why names have to be changed but God is God, I suppose. Abraham’s story was pretty boring. At some point, Abraham told people in some city he was living in that his wife was his sister because he was afraid he would be killed so other guys could sleep with Sarai/Sarah if he told the truth. Other than that, he just traveled a lot... had a million sons, buried his wife in a cave of wonders. (Wait... that’s Aladdin. She WAS buried in a cave, though). 

After Noah is Issac, who had the Lord appear to him and say “Don’t go down to Egypt. Live in the land where I tell you to live.” Once again, I know I gave you free will but do as I say or else. Pretty sure, at one point, Issac said the same thing about his wife being his sister because HE was afraid HE would die so people could sleep with HIS wife. (Thou shalt not lie clearly hasn’t been established yet, however, people get mad when they find out these sisters are actually wives because they could’ve committed a major sin. So....minor confusion.)

After Issac is Jacob - who had the pleasure of marrying TWO of his cousins. Incest is okay in the Old Testament apparently. Leah and Rachel are real doozies. Basically, Jacob favored Rachel, so God wouldn’t allow Rachel to have kids. So, Leah births three sons for Jacob. Then, Rachel gets all mad and since she can’t have kids, she offers up her personal slave to make a baby with Jacob. The slave has a son, of course, and then another one. Then, Leah gets mad but she can’t get pregnant, so she offers up HER slave to make a baby with Jacob. Then, Rachel ends up being able to get pregnant and has some sons. Then, Leah is able to get pregnant again. Basically, all Jacob really did with his life is sleep around with as many women as his wives would allow, make babies, and then get his name changed to Isreal. However, unlike Abraham, when Jacob’s name changes, he’s still referred to as Jacob in the Bible. Again, minor confusion.

Genesis ends with the story of Joseph. Joseph is the favored child of Jacob. His brothers envy him so much they plot to kill him. One of the brothers just can’t follow through with it though, so they end up throwing him into an empty well and then sitting down for a nice picnic. As they’re eating, these people come and they sell Joseph into slavery. They take his robes, pour blood over them, take the robes to Jacob and claim Joseph was attacked and eaten by a wild animal. (Obviously, the flood didn’t cure evil?) In the meantime, Joseph ends up in Egypt, gets thrown in prison, starts interpreting dreams, and ends up becoming the king’s right-hand man. For 7 years,  Egypt prospers with crops galore. Then, there are 7 years of famine basically, but no worries, Joseph started collecting grain to feed the masses during the good 7 years just for this event. Joseph’s brothers end up traveling to Egypt to get food and don’t recognize Joseph, but he recognizes them. Stuff happens and long story short, he ends up being reunited with his family. Jacob dies, he’s buried in the cave of wonders with his ancestors.

Joseph’s story was probably my favorite thus far. The other part I’ve enjoyed about Genesis is that God is more relatable. He’s mean, he’s bossy, he wants his way, and when he doesn’t get it, he just destroys everything. He is far more different than the all loving, all forgiving God you’re taught about in church. Me personally, I can’t relate to someone who is just so darn perfect and who has never erred. I guess since he’s God, his Old Testament behavior probably isn’t considered sin; he is the creator, after all, so he can do what he wants to do. However, when you’re instructed to live your life following the 10 Commandments, love thy neighbor, and all that other jazz, it’s nice to see that, at one point, God certainly wasn’t doing that himself.

Tonight, I’m going to take you on a journey. We’re going to go back almost 20 years, to the start of it all.

Remember those mailers you got back in the day where you could buy like... 10 cds for $1.99 or something stupid like that? That is where this story begins. If memory serves, my sister and I were allowed to split up the picks. I picked N Sync and the rest is pretty much history.

Once I listened to their debut cd, N Sync, life was never quite the same. Time was spent learning all kinds of N Sync tidbits. (JC’s real name is Joshua, which he actually went by until he auditioned and was cast on the Mickey Mouse Club, where a Josh was already on the cast.) I was always looking for unreleased tracks. (With the exception of their Christmas cd, I can name all of the album released songs, in order, cuz I’m #awesome.) My room was PLASTERED with N Sync pictures and posters. I would follow tv listings and tape every single appearance they made on television. I had tapes upon tapes that I would watch every single day. I loved N Sync sooooo much, for punishment, I would be grounded from anything N Sync. (A girl always keeps a secret stash though. Muahahahaha.) I went to see N Sync during their No Strings Attached tour and that was the best night of my life, bar none. I know for a fact I drove my family absolutely insane with my obsession BUT N Sync has greatly contributed to so many great things in my life.

N Sync has provided me a wealth of knowledge. For instance, did you know that Lance wasn’t even an original member of the group? A guy named Jason was, but he ended up dropping out because that wasn’t the career path he wanted to take. THEN Lance was recruited. You may think this useless, but someday I know I will be rewarded because of my giant wealth of N Sync knowledge. Another fun fact! The only reason BSB had an issue with N Sync is because N Sync came onto the scene and did a better job than BSB could ever do. (Backstreet’s whack, alright?) N Sync gave me aspirations. I was 100% convinced I was going to be a singer when I was in 5th - 6th grade because of N Sync, so much so that I took voice lessons to better my craft. (That didn’t last long but still.... I had dreams!) N Sync gave me goals. Goal number one: go to an N Sync concert. Goal number two: meet Justin Timberlake and make him fall in love with me. Goal number three: marry Justin and make lots of babies. I’ll let you figure out how many goals I accomplished. (And for the record, there’s still time!) N Sync gave me peace. This is probably the most important of all. I cannot tell you how many times listening to their music was like putting a salve on my soul. Whether I was really happy or incredibly depressed, whether I was 10 or 24 and still to this day, their music heals me. 

The Emily of today would not exist were it not for N Sync. I will love them forever, I’ll like them for always, as long as I’m living, my boy band they’ll be. It is a love that is deeply ingrained in me and it will never let go.

I will leave with this final thought.

I spent the majority of this day in my bed, sick to my stomach, sad, and angry at the universe because it doesn't make much sense to me why such horrible things have to happen to amazing people. Thus is life though and like a good friend told me, “Everybody is dying, not everybody gets the courtesy of a warning.” And so it goes... 

I have heard more times than I want to in the past few months that life is too short, meaning life is too short to hold grudges and blah blah blah, so let’s all make up and be one big happy, if not fake, world. I agree. Life IS short. How about, instead of faking it our whole entire lives, though, we cut out the bad and live in genuine happiness? Does that not sound like a much better alternative? I sure think so. And for the record, I don’t think that makes me selfish; I think it makes me smarter than you. :P

I’ve GOT to live life for me and MY happiness. I can’t worry about anyone else anymore and I won’t. I’m not going to allow people to force me to do things to satisfy the “needs” of others while compromising my comfort and my happiness. I’m not going to spend my time with people too consumed with trying to force feed their opinions down others’ throats that just having a good time with friends gets put on the back burner. I’m not going to do something that I instinctively know will only cause more stress just because someone else says I should. I choose to surround myself with good, solid people, tolerant people, who can look past differences, who just love. I will live with no regrets. I will live enjoying my limited time with the people who truly support me, who respect me, and who love me wholeheartedly, no matter who I am or what I believe.

I’m getting married tomorrow. I’ll be the first to say that typing that sentence, for me, is so weird. Once upon a time, I thought marriage was a given. I thought I had found that someone. I was very wrong. After that, I was absolutely not interested in marriage, not even interested in love really.  When I had set my mind against marriage and accepted I could be blissfully happy as a single person, I fell in love. Now I’m getting married.

There has been an awful lot that has lead up to this day. There’s been a lot of laughter and probably equally as many tears. We’ve had explosive fights and we’ve had happy days. Somedays, it felt like we went to hell and back, but we did it together. No matter what we were put through, either by others or at our own hands, we fought for our relationship every single moment, and we’ve only grown stronger together. Now we’re getting married.

To my soon-to-be-husband,

You are not marrying your run of the mill girl. You are marrying someone who would rather take care of herself than have anyone else take care of her. You are marrying someone who is very strong-willed, stubborn, extremely opinionated, and often times speaks without a filter. You are marrying someone who is temperamental, who refuses to put up with anyone’s bullshit, and who has no problems being a complete loner if it means no one is given the opportunity to disrespect her. You are marrying someone extremely difficult, of this I know. You are also marrying someone who knows something good when she’s sees it. You are marrying someone who will take care of you every day for the rest of your life, who will love you before all others, who will support you at all times. You are marrying someone who probably doesn’t deserve such a good person in her life but that will forever cherish you. You’re everything I never knew I wanted and you are also the only man I have ever trusted and felt at ease with right from the beginning. I cannot wait to become your wife tomorrow.

As in the past majillion months of my life, we continue to chug on down the tracks towards married-ville. We sent the invitations out yesterday and I've already heard from a couple of my loves that they got them in the mail today. I suppose I'm officially stuck now. 

Can I be the honest bride? I am so not looking forward to this day at all. There, I said it. It is out in the universe. I've said as much to a few of you but I want to make it clear to everyone that not all females can't wait to be the blushing bride. This is very much NOT my cup of tea and, not that I feel anxiety about this day, but I feel a certain disdain for whomever decided that two people getting married should be made into the biggest deal ever. I also am a little miffed with my fiance who feels marriage must be celebrated in the traditional sense, possibly even feeling a big of frustration with myself for not being able to manipulate him enough to get my own way if I'm being honest., and I am, if nothing else, honest. 

I don't know if I even necessarily believe in the sanctity of marriage. I feel I'm predispositioned to believe that all marriages will end in divorce, that no one is meant to spend a lifetime with just one person. Eventually, we grow up, find out that we have nothing in common, are bored with each other, the grass is always greener... Now that being said, I wouldn't be marrying Dan if I thought we couldn't make it last, but I know it's probably going to be more difficult at times than easy. I know there will be times when I throw my hands in the air and curse the day I ever said I do. (Hell, I ALREADY do that and we're not even married yet!) Point being, there is forever a part of me, way back in the darkest corner of my mind, in the blackest part of my soul that says I'm spending too much money on this, inviting people to spend a day with me, making this into a huge production, to have it possibly end somewhere down the road. It will all be for nothing.

Once upon a time I was really really stupid and I moved across the country to live my life with someone I ultimately didn't even know. I wouldn't trade that experience for anything in the world because I grew so much from it but boy, sometimes I look back and go, "That was the biggest mistake of my life." The end result of that move broke me pretty badly. By that, I mean, I shut down totally and completely. To this day, I don't let anyone too close. But then I met this one guy...

I was on this online dating website not even wanting to find anyone serious because all I wanted to do was prove to myself I could dip my toes back into the dating world and be okay. I was talking to a guy whom I had a pretty significant crush on but it was strictly superficial and 100% shallow. I didn't care, I was just having fun. Then Dan messaged me. Here's this nerdy, white guy who admits in his profile he likes Taylor Swift and I'm thinking, "Pfft. Yeah right." But girls just wanna have fun so I messaged him back. We probably text for a little over a week before he asked me out to a movie. I like movies. What did I have to lose? So, I agreed. 

We met at the theater, but he was already inside by the time I got there and I had to pay for my own ticket. Strike one. Also, turns out Dan is like the same height as me. I know he can't help that but I've always dated taller guys. Strike two. Our conversation before the movie started was light and easy, and there was something about Dan that put me instantly at ease, which was nice. Then he ruined it 20 minutes in by saying, "You know I'm going to kiss you right?" Ummm.. I'm sorry but you don't even know me. Strike three. But then.... after the movie he walked me to my car, he wrapped his arms around me, and he danced with me in the parking lot for like fifteen minutes. Game, set, match.

Now here we are, two months away from getting married. Planning a wedding is incredibly stressful, especially having to plan a wedding that you don't even want. Don't get me wrong, I very much want to marry Dan. I do NOT very much want a whole freakin production, however; take me to Vegas, let's elope, and then party hard. So with that said, I know I haven't always handled the stress in the best of ways. I've thrown fits, said I don't want to waste all my time and money for one stupid day, I don't even want to see all these stupid people on said day. Give me my wedding band, let me eat my cupcake, and then take me home. I've been a brat throughout this process sometimes. 

Dan has proven to be the best person for me though because, in all things, he is calm and rational. He still wraps his arms around me, dances with me in the middle of the kitchen and tells me it'll all be okay. He may not always agree with everything that comes out of my mouth, but he supports me far more than anyone else in my life ever has. He's got my back. He makes me laugh all the time, he cooks me dinner, he rubs my feet every single night. He comes to bed way earlier than he wants to most nights because I'm tired and hate sleeping alone. He watches more reality shows than he was ever before subjected to because I only like trash tv. He listens to me complain about work every single day and he buys me chocolate to make it better. He drives me absolutely insane frequently,  but more importantly, he encourages me, he takes care of me, he loves me. 

I was encouraged to write this blog to give my friends and family an idea of what the "other side" looks like when it comes to religion. So hi. My name is Emily and I don't believe in God.

I was raised in the church. My mom worked as the church secretary for many years and the greatest majority of my early childhood memories involve being in church. We were there all the time, even if it wasn't a Sunday. My parents were youth leaders for a while, my family was best friends with the pastor's family. We were always spending weekends at someone's house, our big church family. Believing in a higher power was easy for me because I knew no better. The older I get, though, the more difficult it is for me to believe all the things I was taught at a young age and I find myself questioning: Do I believe in God because I truly believe in God or do I believe in God because I was programmed to do so? I feel like if I have to ask myself that question, then I don't believe in God. I've very recently discovered this about myself - I am an atheist.

Growing up in church, you're made to believe that atheists are devil worshipers because... if you don't believe in God, that's the only alternative right? Faced with that alternative, of course you learn the 10 Commandments and books of the Bible by memory. Of course you allow yourself to be forced to recite bible verses every other week and sing hymns. When someone tells you that woman was created by taking a rib from Adam, you just believe that as truth. Jonah got swallowed by a whale and lived to tell about it? Amazing. Moses parted the Red Sea? Woah. Some woman gets pregnant without having sex and births a baby who grows up to save human kind? Amen! You're legitimately force fed these ideas week after week after week, without any choice in the matter, and you're impressionable enough to believe everything that is said.

Then you grow up. You learn. You see. You question. Why, if God is a loving being, is being gay a sin and Christians must vocalize how people of this persuasion will undoubtedly go to hell? If the Ten Commandments are the rules we should live by, why are people allowed to murder, lie, cheat, and steal and then say a quick prayer asking for forgiveness and it's all good? We should go forth and multiple but if you can't conceive naturally and you elect to have IVF, the Catholic church says you have morally sinned. How does that make sense? The earth is proven to be thousands upon thousands of years old and yet there are thousands of Christians who claim the earth is only a few thousand years old. Ummm, what? Lastly, my own personal opinion, those good ol Christian church goers are some of the most hypocritical people I have ever known and think going to church every Sunday is all that's required in order to keep on being the most ugly people walking planet Earth.

So, it's been pretty much forever and a lifetime since I've blogged, this I understand. I'm sure you've all missed my absence. Fear not, I can't stay away forever. In my defense, I have been quite the busy lady as of recent, what with MOVING INTO A HOUSE and all that!

Yes, yes, the Danger (pronounced Dan - like his name - jer) and I are officially homeowners. Might I say it is quite the jolly holiday. No more do I have to listen to Dan throw a fit because he's playing a game in which he knows there's a high percentage of him losing but he still does it anyway and then cries about it. I can just go downstairs to our fantastically awesome family room and tune him out! It's simply splendid, splendid. We've been here a month and I just love it.

Last weekend we had our housewarming party and I had such an amazing time. Yes, you read me right folks; Emily, of the grumpy cat attitude, had an amazing time. The wine consumed had nothing to do with it either, it only enhanced the experience. I'm truly grateful for the wonderful friends and family that I have who came to support and celebrate with Dan and I in moving on up in life. (Do we live on the east side of Fort Wayne? Does anyone reading this get that reference? Angie, I have faith in you!)

My one and only complaint about this darling home... is the mouse in the house. Everyone gather around for story time.

Once upon a time, Emily was being a good little wifey and making dinner for her husband-to-be. On the menu was tomato soup and cheese toasties. I had the soup warming on the stove and opened up the cabinet where we keep the bread. Upon inspection of the bread bag, I found a lovely little hole and there was a tunnel that went through approximately half of our bread. For those of you who don't know me all that well, if there's one thing I can't stand in this life, it is mice! (Though, in being completely honest, as all good bloggers should be, there is a list miles long of things I can't stand in life. Mice tops the list though!) I yelled, "Daniel Wayne, come here right now!" He comes into the kitchen, and I just lose my shit - I'm talking full-blown, can't breathe, tears streaming down my face panic attack here. I just keep saying over and over "I want my dad, I want my dad, I want my dad." Daniel, being the night in shining armor he is, said it was okay, that he would fix it. So off we went to Wally World to pick up traps. Now, I learned a very valuable mouse catching trick from my friend, Grace, and I am going to pass the wisdom on to you lovely folks. If you need to catch a mouse, get a traditional trap, twistie tie a lifesaver to it, and success! What kind of traps do we get? The cute little ones where the mouse goes inside and doesn't get the chance to come out. Even better, you don't have to see the mouse, the trap will indicate when it is inside the trap. -_- WHATEVER. Peanut butter was inserted into the traps, traps were set up in the cabinet. Good to go. Ya know, except for the fact that by fixing it, we apparently mean we're gonna set up traps and job's done. So I have to remind Dan to check them. And then I have to remind Dan to check them. And then remind him again. It's been a week and we've caught nothing. Tonight, Dan is at a movie and so, for dinner, I went to make myself a sandwich. Wouldn't ya know it, I grab the bread bag and what do I discover but another nice little mouse tunnel. Oh, if only you could have seen the joy on my face. Needless to say, Dan heard about, boy did he hear about, and he's going back to Wally World to get the RIGHT kind of trapage this time. Just in case, I text my dad and let him know I fully expect he's going to have to come save me.

You can only survive in an apartment so long before your soul starts to shatter little by little. Dan and I are to the point now where, even though it's just the two of us, we don't have enough space in this itty bitty one bedroom place. Our lease is up in February so we figured we might as well start the process. In true Dan and Emily fashion, the process ended up going fast and furious.

We did a preapproval, got a realtor, and browsed the interwebs for hours looking for houses we had an interest in seeing. Ultimately, we found 6 homes on our realtor's website that we wanted to start off with. We met up with him one evening and off we went. Our wishlist was small and consisted of: at least 3 bedrooms, 1 and a half baths, a basement, a garage, appliances included.

The first house we looked at was a 2 story home. It had 2 full baths, a basement, 3 bedrooms and a detached garage. The first floor was a little small but the basement was nice. The detached garage was HUGE and had overhead storage space. The kitchen was also a good size if not a little outdated. So far, not too bad, but the second I walked up the stairs, I immediately hated the place. It may have had 3 bedrooms, but they were indescribably small with the dinkiest closets I have ever seen. There was nothing further I needed to see, this house was NOT the one.

The second home was gorgeous. It was a one story but I loved the layout. The living room was really large and they had it split into two sections; the actual living area and then they had like a sitting area in front of a fire place that was sandwiched between built in bookshelves. OMG. Any bookie will tell you built in bookshelves are a done deal. It also had a playroom attached that had french doors to close it off. The kitchen was nice and updated. It had a good sized basement. Only two bedrooms though and a really small bathroom. I really liked the house. It was cute, quaint, and extremely homey but Dan wasn't thrilled by it. So on to the next one.

The third house we saw was a 2 story... ish. There was a full basement. I'm talking HUGE. They had it separated into two areas. On one side was the laundry portion of the room and behind that they had a good sized work out area. On the other side was couches, chairs, a bar, a television. The basement was amazing. The first floor had a sunroom. Absolutely gorgeous. The living room was smallish but it had a fire place. The kitchen was a good size and they had a very nice sized dining room. The 2 bedrooms it had were on the main floor as well. Upstairs was the attic area. Off of the actual attic space, there was kind of like a loft layout which could be made into a third bedroom. It had a detached garage. Dan and I both really liked that house. The basement was a huge plus for us and it was a nice sized home. There was one more home to view though.

The fourth home we saw was the house I had wanted to see the whole night. The second the door was opened and we took our first steps in, I was sold. It is a tri-level home. There are two entrances; the one we walked into leads to what used to be the garage, but has been converted into a second living space. It is big and homey and I love it. It also has a utility room with a washer and dryer that has extra storage space. You can walk downstairs from that room and there's a finished, partial basement. Upstairs leads to the main living room. It, too, is a large space with hardwood floors. The kitchen is big, even without the extra space it includes for the dining area. The main floor also has a half bath. Upstairs are the 3 bedrooms with a full bathroom. The upstairs also has hardwood floors. We went outside and oh my goodness. The yard is HUGE. Right off the house is a patio area with an awning, there's a work shed, and then the yard goes on and on for days. Okay, maybe not days but it was the best yard we had seen. I love everything about this house... everything. Oh, and all appliances were included. I'm not sure what clinched it for Dan but we put an offer in and our offer has been ACCEPTED!!

I have been struggling with something lately. It's really difficult working in a call center, where I am forced to talk to umpteen million dumb dumbs a day, and then come home to a man who decides to shut down his brain the second he clocks out. We've had a discussion about this, and it is something he and I are both working on. I need to be less critical, he needs to be less stupid. So, I struggle.

I love my fiance to death and am so glad to have him in my life. Can I tell you though that he came home tonight, unbuttoned his pants, let them fall to his knees, and then decided he would go ahead and empty his pockets. I'm sitting there watching him bend down, practically doing a toe touch, pull a coin out of his pocket, put it on the coffee table, bend down, pull his wallet out, put it on the coffee table, bend down... well you get the picture. WHY?!? Wouldn't it have been SO MUCH EASIER to empty your pockets and THEN unbutton your pants. 1) You save energy this way. 2) The woman you're going to marry won't blog about it later.

He made dinner tonight and that was super sweet of him, until I heard a crash, turned around, and he was picking up a broken bowl. I understand dishes break, it's a part of life. What I DON'T understand is when I asked him what happened, he had no clue. Excuse me, but how do you NOT know how you broke a bowl??? I would imagine the answer would go something like, "I left the bowl a little too close to the edge of the counter, I wasn't paying attention and accidentally hit it with my arm and it broke." Also, I get it comes off a little psychotic that I expect an explanation but the truth is, I don't need to know every detail of the bowl breaking, I just want something more than, "I don't know."

It's things like this that happen on a daily basis and sometimes, I can't help but think I don't deserve to have to deal with this much stupidity on a daily basis. It's not all Dan's fault; most of my frustration stems from talking to all the idiots I have to talk to on the phone, so no matter what Dan does, sometimes it just sets me off. Still, I expect more of him because I would never settle for the every day, common dumb dumb and yet sometimes... I can't help but think Good Lord, this is what I have to live with the rest of my life.