I've Been Engaged Too Long

I know I've been engaged for too long when another couple gets engaged and announces that they're getting married in two months, and my first thought is, "Dang! I'm so jealous!" If Andrew and I had done a two-month engagement, we would have been married for nearly two months by now. Which would be so nice.

But at the same time, I know that we did what worked best for us. Everything has fallen pretty perfectly into place so far, so I can't complain too much. And besides, it's only six weeks away! In 43 days I will be a married woman. And I seriously cannot wait.

Thanksgiving Day Twelve

Tonight we had FHE at my apartment. We played Rock Band, and since the game is mine, it made sense for me to be there to set everything up. My roommate bought some pizza and we were set to have a grand ol' time.

And then people showed up. There were a couple of people who were fine and just had fun, but there was an entire apartment of giggly, air-headed girls that were flirting with an apartment of tools. I don't mean to be mean or horribly judgmental. I'm sure these people are perfectly fine people. But the combination of personalities there made for an . . . interesting evening, to say the least. Everyone was really loud, and there was one guy who was particularly douchebaggish. I'm sure he thought he was something else, but anyone who calls me "girly" is automatically put on my douchebag list.

Believe it or not, this is leading to something that I am thankful for. Which is the fact that I am leaving student housing and singles' wards forever in a little over three months. I am so thankful that I don't have to deal with the dating game anymore and that soon I won't have to deal with the drama of other people who are dealing with it. I no longer have to worry about who's dating who and who likes who and who has a history with who and who hates who, and I can't tell you just how happy that makes me.

Also, as much as I love my roommates (they're some of the best girls I know), I am so thankful that soon I will have my own place where everything will be mine and Andrew's and we won't have to label food or clean up other people's messes. I can't express just how wonderful that thought is after having spent seven and a half years living in student housing.

Dear Cold,

You have been pestering me for nearly a week now. I would very much like to once again be able to breathe through my nose, and this cough that you have so graciously given me is very much unwelcome. I'm tired of popping pills and being reminded of just how much snot my sinuses are capable of producing. Things are getting ridiculous. You need to let me get back to my normal life.

Love,

A very tired, frustrated, and stuffy Lindy

Newfound Annoyance

Before I was dating someone, my least favorite questions were, "Are you dating someone?" and "Why not?"

Now that I am dating someone, my least favorite questions are, "Are you engaged yet?" and "When are you getting married?"

It hasn't even been three months, folks. For the love of Pete, let us take things at our own pace.

I'm Going Crazy

There are 16 days until my family and I leave for California. As exciting as that is, I feel like I'm going out of my mind in preparation for it. Work is especially stressful right now. Here is a list of some of the things that I have done or still have to get done before I leave:

• end-of-the-month editing rush
• researcher grades (I have to get them done early, during [or before] the aforementioned rush)
• train on and start tracking researcher grades
• promptly ask a coworker to track some of the grades because I will be gone when they are due
• plan an editing training session so I don't have to do it the day I get back
• get my absence from the all-hands meeting approved
• report grades (this is more something I want to get done because they've been sitting in my inbox for over a month)

I know most of that doesn't make sense to anyone else. But it basically means that I have a whole lot of shiz to get done the next couple of weeks. And this is all on top of some new responsibilities that I've been getting used to the past little while (like one-on-one follow-up sessions and even a presentation for another team).

I have also found myself with something to do every single night this week. I have had almost no time to just relax and chill. Granted, most of what is keeping me busy has been fun, and I love hanging out with my friends. But I also need some downtime. Especially so I can finish this book I'm reading that's really super exciting. I need me time.

I'm also waiting for this weekend when I get paid and when my credit card turns over so that I can finally go and buy some things that I need for the trip, like new shorts and a new swimsuit and some little odds and ends. After putting over $1,000 on my credit card in two weeks (hooray for car repairs), I basically had no money left for anything else. A pay day is much needed.

I've been keeping a running list of things that I need to remember to take with me on the trip, and it's surprisingly long. So many gadgets and their chargers. I'm terrified that I'm going to forget something that I really need.

But I guess I shouldn't complain. All of this prep work will be 100% worth it when I finally find myself in Disneyland, playing with my nieces and nephew and laughing with my parents and siblings. Not to mention that squeezed in the middle of the madness is the Civil Wars concert next week (is it really just next week? Holy cow . . . the three months since I bought my tickets have flown by).

Basically, I'm super ready for all the prep part to be done and to be on my way to 10 days of sun and fun and no work and maybe a little bit of magic.

Life's Changes (or lack thereof)

As of a week ago, this was my plan:

I was moving out of Carriage Cove in August (hooray!). I had three friends to move with, and we were going to find a condo or a house somewhere, preferably south Provo. I had signed a spring/summer extension for CC, which meant I would have awesomely cheap rent for four months. And since I had just paid off my car, I would have loads of extra cash I could use for playing. And saving. I would have four months of summer, during which I could keep myself from caring about the new boys, because I would soon be leaving. I could simply enjoy myself and not worry about whether there was any interest there. I would be moving soon to a new ward full of new guys and new girls and new social circles and new everything. Change would be abundant, and I was thrilled about that.

It's amazing how much can change in a mere week. Here are my current plans:

I am staying in CC through next April. That's eight months longer than I anticipated, giving me another solid year in this place (sigh). By the time this new contract is up, I will have lived at CC for three years and eight months. Since my contract is now April to April, the price of my summer rent went up. It's the price I'm used to paying, but not the price I was expecting to pay. I will still have plenty of cash for playing, but not quite as much as I was hoping to have. This does mean that I get to continue to be Cora and Brittany's roommate (minus the summer, since Cora is leaving me to live with her aunt. She somehow thinks free rent, utilities, and groceries is cooler than paying rent for the summer. Something about how saving money is important. Rubbish, in my opinion).

I'm very conflicted about this decision. I will have you know that staying in CC is the absolute right decision for me right now. The Lord kind of walloped me upside the head by making my original plans fall to pieces. Here's the problem: I don't want to stay. At all. I've loved most of my time at CC, and I have met some incredible people here. The apartments are nice enough, I have my own room, and the pool/hot tub setup is pretty sweet. But I've been here for nearly three years, and another year feels like an eternity. I graduated from BYU in 2008, and I am ready to be out of student housing. The boys don't date. Well, not me, anyway. And they're young. Lots of people here are young. I'm now one of those older people that people reference when they say, "Yeah, there are a few older people in my ward."

The bottom line is that I am craving change. I need it so bad right now. I thought my life was going to take a major turn for the better, and I was so looking forward to it. But now my life has course corrected to the exact same route I was hoping to leave. Why does the Lord insist upon keeping me at CC? What is it that I am supposed to learn from this place?

I have so many thoughts and feelings bobbing around my head:

• When signing my new contract, I felt the need to choose the one that would be the easiest to sell if that became necessary. 
• I feel like CC and my current job are inseparably connected. 
• I refuse to allow myself to think that the reason I'm still here is because of a boy. 
• Part of me is hoping that Der Junge is the kind of guy who refuses to date in his own ward, so now that he's moving out, he'll realize he misses me and make a move. 
• I have this nagging suspicion that come next April, my life will be exactly the same as it is now.
• Our current relief society president is moving out in August. I don't want to think about what that could mean for me.

I don't know if any of these thoughts actually mean something or if I'm trying to impose my own meaning on this incongruous decision I have made. Whatever the case, I'm simply hoping that there will come a time when I understand why I had to do this. I am going to do my best not to complain. Complaining doesn't leave much room for faith, and I refuse to resent the Lord for guiding me in the direction that's best for me. Because this will be best for me. I don't know how or why, but the Lord does, and I have to believe that.

I don't know that I want to get into this.

Day Thirty-Six: Something you can't seem to get over.

Uh oh . . . this question could open quite the can of worms. We'll see how deeply I decide to actually delve into this subject. I warn you now: this could become very much a woe-is-me post if I'm not careful, which is part of the reason I don't particularly want to get into a lot of detail. But this is the blog challenge I chose for myself, and I've been pretty honest in all of my other posts, so I guess I'll continue that trend.

The one thing that I just can't seem to get over is that I haven't been in a real, honest-to-goodness relationship in nearly five years. You read that right—FIVE YEARS. And if you think that's a long time (which you might not, I don't know), you can imagine how I feel having lived through it.

I know that some of that time is due to my disastrous first relationship. It has taken me a really long time to get over things, and I know that spills over into how people perceive me. People are usually more perceptive than I give them credit for, so I'm sure there were guys that avoided me because I seemed emotionally unavailable. And I was. I don't think I would have been a good partner for anybody—I'm pretty sure I would have been a jealous witch, and nobody wants that.

But I'm to a point in my life where I am ready to move on. I want to try my hand at being in a relationship that isn't dysfunctional. I want to see what it's like to be with someone who actually tries to make things work, and if they don't end up working, is man enough to talk to me about it if I haven't picked up on it already. Basically, I want a normal relationship. One that might end, which is okay, or that might not end, which is better.

Here's the issue: No one seems to be interested in me. At least not interested enough to pursue me. The only guy that seemed pretty serious about dating me was over two years ago, but I wasn't interested. That is the only case I can think of in the last five years when I have had a legitimate shot with someone, and I chose not to take it. There was another guy a little while after that who seemed interested, until he dropped off the face of the planet. That is two guys in five years that have taken real interest. Two. And neither of them actually turned into anything. It doesn't matter how hard I work to get the point across that I'm interested in someone—they never seem to take the hint. Or the nudge. Or the shove. It doesn't matter how obvious I am; I never get what I want. It doesn't matter how much I flirt; no one ever asks for my number.

While I know that it is ridiculous, I can't help but wonder if there's something wrong with me. Am I broken somehow? Is my emotional baggage so apparent that no one wants to touch this mess? Is there something about me that is abhorrent to guys? Am I ugly? (I hate it when that question pops into my mind, because I do know that I am not ugly. I'm not drop-dead gorgeous, but I'm not hideous either. But the question still nags.) Or am I simply too strong? too independent? too intelligent? If that's the case, then boys are stupid. Oh, wait. I already knew that.

So that's what I can't get over. I can't get over the fact that there have been so many guys in my life that have passed me by without a second glance. And I'm going to stop with the self-pity, because you know what? I'm awesome. I really am. I've got talents and hobbies and passions and dreams. I'm a good person. I'm a fun person. I'm a college graduate with a full-time job who is supporting herself. I've got everything going for me. People obviously like hanging out with me, so why the hell don't the guys just man up and ask me out? It's not that difficult!

Always the Same Thing

Day Twenty-Seven: Something you're currently worrying about.

I'm worrying about what I always seem to be worrying about: boys. If I don't have a guy, I worry about why I don't have a guy. If I have a crush, I worry about why he's not doing what I think he should be doing. If I have a legitimate prospect, I worry about what I'm supposed to do and whether I really want to date him.

I am currently doing the second. Der Junge is infuriating me. We hung out four Fridays in a row, with a few Saturdays and Sundays and various other days thrown in there. I was seeing him quite frequently. And then, suddenly, he stopped responding to my texts for a week. And then the first thing he did when he saw me next was give me a hug. Umm . . . hello, confusing.

I'm mostly just frustrated. I have done everything I'm supposed to do to show a guy that I'm interested: I've invited Der Junge to countless activities, shown interest when he says we should do something (though apparently I was supposed to nail down a date as soon as he offered), done one-on-one things, brought him medicine when he was sick. For the love of Pete, I have even asked this guy on a date. And sort of tricked him into another (see this post for reference). And tomorrow, I'm going to do the most girly of all girly dating tactics: take him cookies. Ugh.

That is what I'm worried about. I'm worried about finally hitting the point where it's obvious Der Junge isn't interested and I should just back off. I hate getting to that point. I hate conceding defeat. Especially when there have been so many good things to lead me to believe that there could be potential here. We work well together. Seriously, we do. I'm not just making that up. Which is what makes giving up so much harder.

This is how I feel today:

BLAAAARRRRGGGHHHH.

Can I just go away? For like a month? Would everyone be all right with that? Because that's really what I want to do right now.

Maybe I'll just find a hole somewhere and disappear. Sounds pretty good to me.

Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Why?

That's the worst part. Nothing legitimate. Besides the fact that absolutely nobody showed up to the activities committee meeting we were supposed to have. I must have confused the dates. I just must have.

As of today, my life can be summed up in one word:

FRUSTRATION.

With pretty much everything. Provo. Boys. My calling. Some things at work. 

I think I need to get out, go away, disappear for a little while. Maybe spend a weekend in Magna, or take a couple of days off work to clear my head.

Whatever I end up doing, it's starting with ice cream for dinner.

Uh oh . . .

This is a supremely bad combination: lying on my bed, mindlessly surfing the interwebs with a bag of Red Vines sitting within arm's reach. Unfortunately, this paradoxically also sounds like a fantastic idea, which is how I came to be in this situation in the first place.

Ugh, dating.

Day 3: Your idea of the perfect date.

I hate dating. Truly, I do. Especially in the Mormon culture when everybody seems to expect me to get married two years ago. And when I haven't been on a date since September. And when I haven't actually been asked on a date since July (September was a blind date). And when . . . well, you get the idea. There's no need to make myself sound any lamer.

The point is, dating sucks, and talking about dating sucks, and writing about dating sucks. So I don't like this day of the challenge, but I'll do it anyway.

Truthfully, I don't have a clear idea of a perfect first date. I don't think there is one. I can go on the most well-planned date with fun activities, but if I don't get along with the guy, it's going to be awkward. I mostly have ideas about what a perfect date definitely would not be. Marathon dates are awkward. Movies aren't good because we can't talk. Dinner alone can feel too formal and stuffy.

I think a good first date is simply ice cream. Yes, just ice cream. It's short and simple, and it gives us the chance to talk and get to know each other. Then, if it's really awkward, we can call it good and go home. Or, if things are going well and my date has planned ahead, we can extend the date and go do something else.

Bowling and miniature golfing are great for first dates because I have to get out of myself a little bit. I suck at both, but that's kind of what makes it fun. I have to get over any insecurities I have about how bad I am and just enjoy myself. I am usually the most fun to be around when people force me out of my comfort zone—that's when I just loosen up and forget about whether I look stupid or not.

And that's really as close as I can get to a "perfect" date. I just think it is all so dependent on the person I'm on the date with. Different people shine in different situations, so there's a different perfect date for everyone, depending on who they're with. (I don't think I could more perfectly avoid the question than I did with that sentence right there.)

PS: Cora has joined in on the blog challenge fun. Chiggity chiggity check it.

Happy New Year

I'm ringing in the new year from my bed this year. Why? a) Because I didn't really have anything to do tonight and b) because of a nasty headache that's pounding at my temples right now.

I'm not complaining too much, though; I really, really enjoy sleeping.