2000 Page Views!

Well hello there. After weeks of learning how to juggle life (and dropping things many times), I have some (at least to me) exciting news. My blog has had 2000 page views... as of today! It's also been somewhere around a year now since I started this blog. How lucky was I to log on and see this perfect number.

In celebration, I will go out to dinner this weekend.

Actually, I was already going to do that. This weekend is in fact Mr. Wonderful's birthday. Really, I'm so excited I could poo. (Name that quote in the comments below! Feel awesome for a day.)

I am finally getting into a rhythm being back in school, and thank the good Lord above, because I really felt like I was sinking. Drowning, actually, in paperback textbooks and guided reading assignments. Oh, and the poetry, Lord help me with the poetry!

I used to love writing poems. Really, I did. Until I found out that I suck at it. Does it matter how the "conventions" are if people legitimately like it already? Seriously... my self confidence has really taken a hit in my poetry class. And to be honest, I don't even like some of the "professional writer" poems that we read in class. They're dry. They're boring. They don't mean anything more to me than the stuff I write matters to my professor.

There are some really good poets, with poems so cleverly designed I can probably only dream of ever writing like them. When I try, oh boy... let's just say when a wanna-be poet sees a "C" on her first poem for poetry class, the emotion that gushes forth isn't pretty. I mean, come on, think poet here. Emotion... yeah. You'd think a good poem would come of that, but no, just goober and snot, and angry words on a page. Nobody wants to read your anger. Frustration, maybe, injustice, for sure. Angry words written to a college professor, nope!

Not to make you think poetry class is my life or anything. Poetry doesn't even take up a corner of my life, it's like 10%. Probably less, even. It's just the one that has broken me the most, maybe. The other classes are much more time-consuming and technical, and I won't burden you with the load of information I cram into my poor brain's throat every day. (Brains don't eat, I know this, but I'm a writing major, not biology, and just take in that visual, okay? Now you're getting it.)


I'm hoping sometime soon, I'll be able to clean my apartment and invite some friends over. Seriously, I haven't cleaned at all since we moved in (not that we've been home to make a mess), and I also haven't spent time with any of my dear ladies in over a month!

Oh, except for my dear German who was visiting last month! I'm so glad I could have her stay with me the last week. It was so much fun comparing how the school systems here and in Germany are so different. I so wish I would have had less work to do while she was staying with me.

Something must change about that. Soon. Very soon, things will be different. My apartment will be clean and the laughter of beautiful women and the smell of cheesy garlic bread and spaghetti will fill it.

So, as I have a battle of wills with God and my husband, who both tell me to do things contrary to what I would like to be doing (i.e. not suffering through schoolwork), I wish you all the best in your many endeavors. May you feel perfectly and pleasantly whelmed, nothing more, nothing less.

Here's to the next year of blogging.

So Much Life, So Little Time

After so many weeks of quiet from my end of the internet, I finally have a moment to write (and not for a class). Yes, I chose to do it here.

The beginning of school came too early for me this year, honestly. I was working every night at the MN State Fair, and the day after class started Mr. Wonderful and I had to move. We both started the semester really strong... behind in every class. We are actually caught up by now, but other areas of life have suffered. For instance, most of our belongings are still in boxes (especially kitchen things), and I haven't cooked a single meal in over two weeks (you're killing me, smalls!). The area of life that has suffered the most, though, is my time with my dear husband.

I know, wa, wa, wa, cry me a river, right? Well, not for me. I need that time; I crave it! My love language is quality time, and without it, there is little thought or feeling of love received from my end. I feel so alone. If life had a pause button, I would certainly be pushing it the next time my spouse and I are home together.

So, as I look at what comes up on the horizon, all I see are piles of homework and work shifts that begin after (or during) dinner and drag on until midnight. Maybe someday we'll have the chance to sit at home together and enjoy our new place, unpack boxes, and feel relaxed and at home. Not this week, though.

Okay, so there's my outlet for complaining. I'm having a hard time seeing the upside to life right now. Pray for me?

On the other hand, Mr. Wonderful and I are both gainfully employed, and I am back in school (even if it might be the death of me). Also, our new apartment is more affordable, and somehow we have more space! It's quite wonderful. I'm excited to make it home.

Also, it's 9/11 today, so I don't plan to only focus on myself. I never write too much about this day, because honestly, it's overdone. I don't feel that I was close enough to the incident to really make any calls on it. I have no gushing poem, no emotional essay, no exhaustive account of "where I was that day." Just this:

I am so grateful to those who were willing to risk their lives to save others. I am thankful to live in a nation that can be shaken to its core and still rise from the ashes fighting. I am proud to live in a country blessed by people who continue to try, even when it seems everything has been taken away from them; and for people who help heal and protect those who have lost everything. Thank you to our soldiers, the firefighters, cops, and police enforcement officers who train hard and risk their lives on a daily basis, and who are willing to risk their lives in a tragedy like the one that took place eleven years ago. You are uncommon people to come by. May God bless you and your families, and also those who were close to the tragedy that day.

Note to self: School will make me a better, more prepared writer for life's future endeavors. Be thankful for life's opportunities, others are frequently robbed of them.

Note to readers: Thanks for reading. Those tiny little spikes on my reader stats poll keep me going some days. It's nice to see that somehow, this might all be worth it someday.

Grown-up Raspberry Lemonade

If you know me well, you know I love making up on-the-spot recipes with whatever I have laying around. I love it with the intensity of one thousand burning suns.

Okay, maybe not that much. But who doesn't enjoy the feeling of creating? Making new things, broadening horizons, expanding the palette?

Well, this one doesn't exactly "expand the palette", but it did have me beaming. It also turned my husband into a drink-stealing ninja.

Grown-up Raspberry Lemonade

Hubs really wanted pop yesterday (Minnesotans say, "pop"), so we went and got some 25 cent drink at Rainbow. Oh, cheap but close-to-the-real-thing sodas, how I equally love and loath your existence! 

Being not much of a pop drinker, I was grateful for his buying me one, but also had to figure out what to do with it to make it, well, something I actually wanted to consume. This, this lovely, delicious, sweet, mouth-watering treat of a drink, was the result.

Surely this will be in heaven. Minus the cheapie soda.

Friends, I tell you. If you're an enjoyer of the occasional alcoholic beverage, you must try this drink. Especially if you like lemonades! You owe yourself this favor. And this lemonade... it's all grown up.

And the recipe is:

Grown-up Raspberry Lemonade

1 can of carbonated lemon-lime drink (sprite, 7-up, Sierra Mist, what have you)

1/2 packet Crystal Light raspberry lemonade

1/2 tbsp rum

Combine and stir.

Add a slice of lemon and you've got yourself your own little party for one!

I'll be honest, here. I didn't use the whole can of pop. The whole contents wouldn't fit in the glass, and I just couldn't leave one sip in there all by its lonesome. It probably wouldn't make a difference to add the rest, though.

Happy weekend! Please drink responsibly.

Real Conversations I've had with My Husband 8/11/12

 Ok, friends, I know you love these, so here you go. It's hard to keep track of our ridiculous conversations word-for-word, but when I get the chance I put them down as quickly as I can so I don't forget them. So here are more "Real Conversations I've had with My Husband". I hope you have a good laugh -- we sure did.

Mr. "Wonderful' wasn't listening while I was talking one night, so when he tried to reiterate what I had said he got it totally wrong, and realized he was caught. He made a face, so I laughed and asked him, "Why are you so weird?" as I crawled into his chair to cuddle with him while picking on him.

"Because I'm weird," was his reply.

"You're weird because you're weird?" I asked.

"Yup!" he yelled and hugged me closer, nuzzling the side of my face.

I made some happy gurgle-type noises, and he said, "Oh good, happy gibberish!" and snuggled me again.

I know I just don't say this enough, but this is what I live with, people! We really do have fun.

I'm not the only one fluent in gibberish, though. Another day, after watching a favorite television show, I turned to him, snuggled up close, and gave him a loving smile. It was a pretty sappy moment, and he started dramatically exclaiming, "Oh, Bre. Oh, Bre. Oh, Bre, oh Bre!" and then he made a noise that was sort of like, "RoaaAaaaugh!"

I looked at him, laughing, and asked, "What?!" to which his reply was, "Gremlin."

Then he said, "For my next impression: pterodactyl." And putting his hand in his mouth, made a noise close to "Roararargh!" Which made us both laugh.

"And for my next," he said, trying not to laugh, "Jaguar velociraptor! Aaaaar *gag*" And we laughed even harder.

And lastly, he ended with one more noise, which sounded very much like all the others, "aaaaaauraugh!" When I asked him what that one was, he added very simply, "Baby." We laughed our hardest after this one in particular.

When this was all done, I opened up the computer, and he knew without asking that all this ridiculousness was going on my blog, so he left the room in a huff. But in a kind of humorous huff. He's not mad, though maybe a tad embarrassed. As he should be.

He is so goofy and I love him for it. So much.

Our Story: A Ring and a Dream

Two days ago my husband and I completely neglected to acknowledge the anniversary of a pretty important day in our life history - our engagement. We're married now, so who really cares anyway, but still. I have to admit I felt like a bum of a wife, but what about that husband of mine? It's not like he remembered to bring it up, either. In fact, he worked until midnight that day. Yeah, that's right. Hardly even saw him. Just proving once again that we're not the types to use any excuse to celebrate. But we do celebrate when we feel the occasion. Mostly, we like it when it's just us, together.

It's okay, though. I got to hang out with a pretty cool former roommate of mine after she got off work at the STATE CAPITOL! That's right, we're growing up. I have a friend who works for the Republican party of the state of Minnesota. Okay, she doesn't get paid, but she's a recent grad and politicians don't technically have to pay their help. It's called an internship. But she does get to go to ritzy parties and schmooze with the higher-ups. Pretty cool.

Point is, I wasn't lonely, it was still a good time. However, I did miss the opportunity to update this on time to keep current events, well, *current*. To push it even further back, the next day, Mr. Wonderful and I said, "to heck with the world and responsibility!" and spent a day hanging out together, just being friends. So we did technically celebrate the day he gave me a pretty ring that he actually shouldn't have been able to afford.

Enough presentation. Here's the story you've all been waiting for:

Next week Garth and I are going to family camp with his family. We seriously gave up our date for the month, and our trip north to go to Sonshine Festival just so we could go. I know, most people don't give up their romantic dates for time with their in-laws; but this place is really important to him, and in turn, has become quite important to me.

The first year Garth's family went to Camp Okoboji, Garth was an infant. So, his second year there he was only one year old, and so on and so forth. He and his family have been going there every summer for his entire life. It's not a part of the summer he's willing to give up. I have been going with them since year two of our relationship, because we met in high school, and the first summer we were dating my dad said there was "absolutely no way" I would be going camping with my boyfriend. So, this will be my fourth year going to camp.

The second year I went to camp with Garth and his family, Garth had a surprise for me.

This is hard to admit, but the first year we were dating, Garth took a very strong position on his desire to marry me. I didn't want to talk about it for fear of being foolish and naive, so it hardly ever came up; but eventually we did start to discuss the possibility. As we got to know each other more, we talked about what we wanted to do when we grew up; what kind of house we each wanted to live in, number of future kids we expected to have, when we wanted to get married, and how we'd take it all in stride in God's timing. Except for my condition that I needed at least six months to plan a wedding, which I guess would have been negotiable, because things always are with God, but I was pretty stubborn about it. When he discovered that I wanted a winter wedding, he thought it was a cool idea, and I suppose he kind of just kept that in mind.

A few days before camp I had made plans to hang out with Garth after I got done babysitting. He told me he had to work during the time I would be babysitting, and that he would call me when he got done. I was oh so unsuspecting.

Here's what I didn't know: Garth did not have to work. In fact, that morning, he called his dad and found that he was not seeing patients, picked up his father, and took him out of town. They went to a local jewelery store in Rochester, MN, and bought a ring.

I should mention something here. Wait, swallow whatever you're drinking. This one's a doozy... Garth was still eighteen. He had just about two months earlier graduated from high school. Don't ask me what we were thinking. That we could love each other forever, I suppose. So far, we haven't been wrong.

Back to the story. You want me to finish this one, trust me.

So we hung out that night. He had the ring in his pocket, "just in case." I never even knew. So there we were, sitting on the couch of friends whose house I was staying in while they were on vacation - him buzzing with an excitement, a secret, that I wasn't even aware of.

"I'm excited for camp." He announced, then added, decisively, "We're going to go on lots of walks."

"Oh are we?" I looked at him, wondering where he was coming from. It was going to be my second year there, I knew the grounds.

"Yup. I want to take you on the trails."

I didn't remember any trails, but not knowing him to be a liar, I figured I just missed out the year before. "Okay, so should I bring my camera? Oh! And a dress, so we can take cool pictures? I need some new, good pictures of me."

"Yeah, oh yes, bring a camera, and a dress." His face just shined.

A few days later, when we got to camp and got our schedules, he sat me down and wanted to decide when we would go on our walk. We decided to go the next morning, as it was supposed to rain later in the week. He acted a lot like it was a very big decision, but I thought maybe he was just happy to be at camp. I also still thought there must be some pretty cool trails that he was excited to finally show me.

The next morning I put on my dress, grabbed my camera, and we headed toward the door. I stopped, realizing I forgot something, "I forgot to put on my rings!" I said, feeling a little bare without the two rings my mom had given me as gifts. My sisters both had rings that matched. "You don't need them right now," was Garth's reply. Then he grabbed my hand and said, "let's go to the beach!"

Yeah, I should have seen it there, but I still wasn't getting it.

When we got to the beach, we went straight to the shore, at the base of the cross that stands there. I took a few pictures, because it was a bright, beautiful morning and the sun was just perfection on the beachy scene. I wanted to go out to the dock, but there were people there, so I started walking back in the direction of camp.

Garth gave my hand a squeeze, then bumped me onto a bench. We had our backs to the beach at this point, but he was being snugly, so I didn't mind. He put his arm around me and told me that he loved me. I put my head on his shoulder and said that I loved him, too.

"I brought you something." He said, looking a little smug, and a little nervous. I watched him reach into his pocket.

"You brought me something?" I mimicked.

He got down on one knee, and I saw a little white box in his hand. He looked up and nervously licked his lips as he opened the box. "Bre, will you marry me?"

And that was it. No speech, no confession of his undying love. Only an eighteen year old boy with a ring and a dream; and a big heart for following God. I knew that if he was asking me this question now, he had been praying hard about it for some time.

The little diamond ring was far more than I expected. Tears came to my eyes as I thought of this tender vision before me, a side of him that had been hinted to but never seen. "Yeah." I replied. Then, feeling a bit foolish, I said, "I mean, 'yes'. Yes!"

We both sat there for a moment. Me staring at the ring, him watching me. "Take it." he said, bringing the box a little closer to me.

I just stared at it, bewildered. I put out my hand, then stopped. "I can't!" I laughed a little. He took it out of the box and put it on my finger, then came to sit beside me again.

After I was almost over the shock, I took out my camera and snapped a few pictures of the two of us, and of the ring. (One of those pictures is the one you find at the top of my blog page.)

We enjoyed the time together, being the only ones who knew, before going back to make calls, change our Facebook relationship status to make it "Facebook official", and announce our engagement to his astonished family.

Thanks to Facebook, by the way, when we got home from camp at the end of the week there was scarcely a soul who had to be told of our engagement. Everyone knew. Everyone was so excited. But no one rejoiced more than Garth and I.

Why the Bride Wears White

One year and a half ago, at the age of twenty, I walked down the aisle in the most beautiful dress to ever adorn my body, ready to commit myself to one man for the rest of my life. I wore white.

It wasn't about the white dress, the flowers, the music, the food. It wasn't about family or friends. It was hardly even about the two of us, though our wedding was the occasion for celebration. To my husband and I, it was all about God, forgiveness, and what was done for us, not by us.

The dress was a special blessing, though, as it had itself just months before seen its fiftieth year; and for me it was free. The dress was Garth's grandmother's. After looking at her wedding album on her's and her husband's fiftieth wedding anniversary, she heard that I had swooned over the dress and suggested that it could be made to look modern with a few tweaks. A month later, when her grandson proposed to me, she stopped by unexpectedly and dropped it off. A beautiful lace dress the likes of which I had never even dreamed of, preserved perfectly after fifty years, was put on my body lovingly by my now sister-in-law. It fit perfectly.

After quite a few moderations in under six months' time, it was quite uniquely beautiful, certainly one-of-a-kind, and I felt terribly undeserving of it.

During our engagement, my husband and I were both attending the same college. In my British literature class we discussed Queen Victoria I for a few days. I learned at this time the real reason the bride wears white, or how it started as a trend, anyway, which had less to do with chastity than sheer virtue. Women back in Queen Victoria I's time would wear elaborately beautiful dresses filled with color to show their social/economic status. Queen Victoria, as a bride, wore white to show she was frugal, as England was in the midst of economic crisis. Talk about irony! Today, that famed white dress is the most expensive dress most women will ever wear. This knowledge really changed my perspective.

So why then is this dress perceived today as a vision of purity? Well, it is not completely off-base, though maybe twisted a bit by our society. Actually, it may just be a tradition that the bride be perceived as pure, emphasized in weddings today by the unblemished white of a wedding dress.

We've all heard the jokes when certain "undeserving" women wear white on their wedding day. We may laugh, but there is a different way we could look at it. A way that shows us far deeper and broader the implications of marriage, and a demonstration of God's love and forgiveness.

This revelation came over me one day when I was reading Ephesians 5. Starting at verse 25, Paul is admonishing men to love their wives "as Christ loved the church" so that, "he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish." Ephesians 5:26-27 (ESV, emphasis added).

Now, I had read this passage plenty of times before, but on that particular day, I teared up. It dawned on me that the purity of the bride is not dependent on the color of the wedding dress, but the concept of the convent act of marriage that is significant. At the moment of the covenant it does not matter what has happened in the woman's past, who she was before, or what sins she has committed. What matters is the act of committing herself to one man for the rest of her life, and his intent toward her. That sanctifies her. She becomes a radiant example of what we are to Christ, and in that moment, she is pure.

Men, I would admonish you to treat your wives (present, future, or unknown) in a way that makes her a respectable person, so that no one can say a bad word about her. This is how Christ demonstrates His love for the church, and our human act of marriage is a significant demonstration of that covenant; that love. A woman forgiven of her past wrongs by a man who chooses to love her unconditionally is a woman worthy of being presented in splendor; holy and without blemish.

Finding the Treasure Trove

So, I normally try not to say this but, "it's been awhile." I know, I know, don't worry I'm not going to whine about how awful I am at keeping up with this blog, and I'm not going to apologize. Nope, no apologies here. 

Really, I have been busy and lethargic at the same time. We have been facing big changes here along with a lot of uncertainty, and when I get around to writing it seems everything comes out at once, with no rhyme or reason. I think that means I've been suppressing my thoughts for too long, but thoughts eventually sort themselves out over time. I have also been focusing on my novels more, so when the mood to write strikes, I'm more likely to go to that. Which is going quite well, thanks for asking. This, paired with my obsession with Pinterest (curse you, evil, time-consuming site of wonders!) has kept me from doing many of my normal activities.

As I said, recently Mr. Wonderful and I have been facing some uncertainty, which made his at-home nick-name even more fitting (he is quite wonderful, no matter how much I cry over our worries). But we're finally coming out of that. He was having a devastatingly hard time finding a job, and I was wondering if it was going to be possible for me to go back to school this fall. Just over a week ago, we finally had a windfall; right as everything seemed to be going down the drain, it all came bubbling back up at once. Blessing after blessing.

First, Garth was called for a job interview at Chipotle. It wasn't his number one choice for work as far as hours and pay goes, but as far as a work-place (and restaurant to eat at), it far surpassed all others. He was stoked to have something to write on our calendar, and I can only imagine that his good attitude and excitement showed in his interview. They interview three times there, and after his second interview they gave him a t-shirt; they seemed ready to hire him. After over a week of scheduling and re-scheduling to meet with his final interviewer, he finally went in yesterday, and filled out the paperwork last night! For a married, working college student, this job is probably going to be a very good thing. God knows what He's doing, and His plan is the best. I can only assume it will be just the right amount of pay for now, and that we will still have plenty of time to spend together.

In the midst of the job conundrum, I was given some very exciting news of my own. The college called and let me know that they're deferring my payments on my unpaid balance from my first semester there! We don't have a lot left, but it's more than can be paid right now, so this is huge! Garth has two years of undergrad left, and then he'll be off to grad school, which means I have limited time to finish my degree before I'm whisked away to our new life! I am now officially re-enrolled in school and taking steps to go back this fall. I don't know if you're feeling this on your end, whoever you are, but I'm so incredibly excited!!!

What we learned in our rough time of uncertainty was that we had, without realizing, tried taking on everything ourselves. Preaching a bit here, I know, but before all these blessings we had been praying for fell into our laps so effortlessly, we started reading the Bible together every day. This was something we had done when we first got married, up until about January. We got a nightly devotional for Christmas, and started it on the new year. Yes, there are Bible verses at the beginning of each devo, but it's a marriage devotional, not a daily time with God. 

The effects of recommitting to a (for us nightly) time in God's word, learning, communing, feeding our souls, were immediate. We felt general comfort and peace to begin with, and Garth was asked to a job interview the next day. Just a day later, I received news that it was entirely possible for me to go back to school. A week later I received an email stating my official enrollment. So now, above every other thing we do each day we make time to be in God's word together.

Want to know how to achieve happiness and assurance of your future? Always remember this: reading the Bible daily, and praying constantly bring many blessings.