I will not freak out.

This is a post I wrote back in May, around the time that Andrew first made a move to date me. I find it kind of funny to read now. Anything in brackets [] is my current-day commentary. (Yes, I am aware that I am a dork.)

It truly is incredible how quickly things can change. One thing can change and throw your whole life into turmoil. Okay, so turmoil is a bit dramatic, but it's kind of true.

Here's the low down: A week ago, life was normal. The only minor anomaly was that there was this guy who maybe seemed like he was sort of interested. I will call this boy The Photog. [Bahaha, I love the attempt at anonymity. And the fact that I felt the need to shorten "photographer."] We had been talking about watching a movie or something. It started out as a group thing, and then it somehow managed to get whittled down to a one-on-one thing. But I didn't think too much of it, because pretty much every time I think, "Hey, this guy is flirting a little bit," absolutely nothing happens. Nothing. Ever. That's how lucky I am with the guys.

The day that we were supposed to watch the movie came and went. Stuff came up, and I couldn't do it that night, so we rescheduled. But in the course of rescheduling, I somehow ended up getting invited to go to a barbecue at his friend's house. Alarm bells started clanging right away. Why alarm bells, you ask? Why wasn't I just excited that a cute boy (for he is pretty cute) liked hanging out with me enough that he wanted to take me to a social event? Here's why: It was far too close to a date. It meant something more than simply hanging out. And as soon as that happens, I start freaking out.

The barbecue was . . . interesting. It wasn't a date. He didn't open my doors. He barely even talked. There were so many long pauses. [I have since come to realize that Andrew isn't a major talker. He talks, but he doesn't always feel the need to talk. We still have long pauses. But they're not awkward.] Not to mention that I ended up knowing the guys that were throwing the barbecue, which was a little awkward. [Andrew now lives with those guys and I see them all the time. It is no longer awkward.] It was an all-around weird night that ended with watching the originally planned movie, after which The Photog didn't even walk me home. His roommates watched the movie with us, which made the whole thing just a little odder. As was the theme for the night. [I have since found out that Andrew wanted to make a move that night. From what I gather, he was a mite frustrated with his roommates for not taking a hint.]

I went home mostly just feeling confused. I had no idea what the crap had just happened, mostly. So I wrote it off as a weird night that made for a really good story, and tried not to think about it anymore.

The next night, a few of us went to the hot tub. I didn't invite The Photog. I invited a girlfriend who invited The Photog's roommate, and wouldn't you know it, The Photog joined us. He promptly sat next to me. And there were other things that made me wonder some more about his intentions, which kind of confused me even more because the whole previous night hadn't seemed like a ton of fun. The Photog was again less than chatty all night, and I decided he wasn't really interested. Confusion eliminated.

Until he texted me the next day (Friday) to ask me out for Saturday. Cue louder warning bells and more freaking out. You mean all those little things I noticed and probably blew out of proportion were real? I wasn't making stuff up? He was now asking me on a legitimate date? WHAT THE CRAP. I was so nervous. Here's a fraction of what was going through my mind: Do I like The Photog? Do I want to go out with him? Do I want to date him? Do I want to marry him? Do I want to have his little Photog babies?! [Gotta love having a girl brain. Except no, no you don't. It sucks.] Never mind the fact that it was our first date. Never mind the fact that I had been complaining to my roommates for months about how I just wanted to be asked on a date. By a cute guy. That I could potentially like back. Never mind that everything I said I wanted was actually coming about. I was beginning the freak-out in earnest.

Saturday night came. And the date went well. All those things The Photog didn't do on our non-date were things that he did do on our legit-date. And then some. He was a gentleman; conversation flowed; he complimented me; I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I even left my hand available for hand-holding during the movie, though he didn't take the opportunity. [Andrew told me that he didn't make a move simply because it was our first date. Apparently making a move before going on a date at all is kosher, but making a move on a first date is frowned upon.] I invited him to come in and hang out after the date, though he couldn't. He gave me a really good hug.

And I sort of, kind of, maybe a little bit, started to like him.

I didn't see The Photog on Sunday. He had gone to Moab to use his mad photo-taking skills on the eclipse. So I spent the day filling in all my girlfriends on what was going down. Then on Monday I did my best not to think about him. Not to want him to text me. And eventually, I flat-out forgot about it because I got busy at work. And then, when I wasn't even thinking about whether I would get a text from him, I checked my phone. And I had a text from him. Telling me about his Moab trip. It made my stomach leap into my throat, which then made me feel like a total idiot. [And distracted me so badly that I tried to walk out of Walmart without paying for any of the things in my cart.]

I hung out with him and a bunch of other people on Monday night. I was a little bit awkward, like I sometimes am when I am interested in someone or I think they might be interested in me. I didn't talk to him as much as I should have, or sit as close to him during the movie as I should have. He left, and I wondered what kind of impression I had given. Would he text me again? Would he ask me out again?

This morning, I check Facebook. I have a message. From The Photog. Asking me if I want to go to his place to watch a movie. (Movies are apparently the way to go right now.) We set a time. He offers to buy shakes at Sonic. I accept. It's a pseudo-date. My brain starts thinking about how he could hold my hand tonight. Or cuddle with me. Either of those are real, legitimate possibilities. The Photog is interested—I can't really deny that. And I'm getting interested back. This is something that could happen. It could progress. Getting into a real relationship for the first time in five years is a real, tangible possibility.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

I am so totally freaking out.

*UPDATE* Tuesday night. The Photog and I go to Sonic and get shakes. We bring them back to his place and turn on Harper's Island (because what's a little romance without some serial killers?). [I still legitimately love that we first held hands while watching Harper's Island. It makes me happy inside.] We watch two episodes, arms completely touching, legs resting against each other depending on how I shift my feet on the coffee table. My hand is completely available, and all I can think is, "Photog! Take my hand, dangit!" I even see him look at my hand. Multiple times. [He has since made fun of himself for how long it took him to psych himself up.] He knows what to do—he just has to get up the courage. Then, halfway through episode three, he does. He takes my hand. And it's adorable. He rubs my thumb with his thumb. He lets go and shifts hand positions so that my arm rests on top of his arm and he can rub my arm with his opposite hand. He plays with my fingers and watches our hands together. I can't help but smile. [This is such a detailed story. But it was all so new that everything was burned into my memory.]

Episode three ends, and we disengage so he can start episode four. It starts, and I decide to snuggle in and put my head on his shoulder. As we shift, he lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around me instead. I nestle into the crook of his arm, my hand resting on his chest. He strokes my hand. He smells good.

Episode four ends, and I sit up because I really need to go home and go to sleep. He walks me home. At my door, I go in for the hug, and he kisses me on the cheek. He gives me a squeeze, and as we pull out of the hug, we look at each other, and he goes in for the kiss. I kiss him back. It's short and sweet, and he pulls away before I'm quite ready for him to. My hand slides down his arm, and we hold hands for a second as I say, "I'll see you later." He smiles a very self-satisfied smile [he looked so proud of himself], says "See you," and walks away.

I get a text 10 minutes later: "Good night ;)"

My five-year drought is officially over.

I am so totally freaking out.

Three days later, we were officially a couple. I know it's a little campy to post something like this, and I'm sorry for the length, but I ran across the draft today, and I thought it was kind of funny to remember just how nerve racking this was for me. You will all be happy to know that I am no longer freaking out.

Life Is Funny

This will be a short post, but I have a couple of updates. And while I'm sure barely anybody ever reads my blog, I still feel obligated to keep it at least marginally up to date.

First of all, the Civil Wars concert was INCREDIBLE. I am two for two for awesome concerts this summer (the first being the Black Keys). I love Joy Williams and John Paul White. They were so awesome, and so cute and funny on stage. They sound just as good live as they do recorded. I was completely entranced by their music the whole night. I have pictures and video that will hopefully one day make it onto the interwebs, but that probably won't be for a while, seeing as how crazy busy I am right now. They will come, though, I swear.

Second, I leave for California at the butt crack of dawn the day after tomorrow. Woo hoo! I still have a zillion and a half things to do before then, but then I will be off for ten straight days of vacation. I am so excited, and I need this so badly. A break from life will be wonderful.

And third, but certainly not last or least or whatever else it may be, I started dating someone*. That's right, folks, the five-year drought is over! His name is Andrew. I kind of like him.

*No, he is not the guy I've written about on the blog before. That guy is a doofus and never made a move. Andrew made all the right moves and didn't play any games. Therefore, he wins.

Happy Independence Day!

No, not that one, silly. It's only July 1. I'm talking about BYU's independence day.

Source: byucougars.com

As of noon today, BYU is officially a football independent and a member of the West Coast Conference in most other sports. Since this is a BYU athletics subject, you have to know that I have an opinion about it, and that I am going to now write about it, whether you care or not. So there.

I think independence was a fantastic move for BYU. BYU fans are everywhere. Students are encouraged to move beyond Provo after graduation, and since BYU focuses more on undergraduates than on postgraduates, it is often better for students to go elsewhere to do their graduate work. BYU alumni are all over the world, really, and independence gives the school an opportunity to spread their brand far and wide to reach all those fans.

The partnership with ESPN gives BYU the kind of exposure it craved but couldn't have while under the absolutely atrocious MWC TV deal. Now every game will be televised on an ESPN network or on BYUtv, which in and of itself is pretty amazing. No other school in the nation has its own TV network that is already in 60 million homes across the country and is broadcasting in full HD. If you really think about that, it is phenomenal. BYU has been setting BYUtv up for independence for years. Without this network, there is no way independence would be feasible. 

For 2011, seven games have already been announced as being on ESPN or ESPN2, including the first five games of the season. Five more games are yet to be scheduled. From everything I've read and heard, as many as eleven games this season could be broadcast on ESPN, which is more ESPN appearances than BYU has had in the last five seasons combined, including bowl games. I don't care what anybody says; this is bloody brilliant. 

The main concern with independence is the scheduling. That is an issue, but Tom Holmoe is already handling it really well. The Cougars have some pretty cool opponents this year, including Ole Miss, Texas, Central Florida, Utah, TCU, and Oregon State. Of course, then you have to throw in the pancakes like San Jose State, Idaho State, and New Mexico State, which make up for a rather boring home schedule. But really, is that any different than a schedule with SDSU, Wyoming, New Mexico, and UNLV? Every team, regardless of conference, has some cupcakes. BCS teams intentionally schedule their out-of-conference games as cupcakes so they don't risk sliding against non-conference foes. Plus, it's only the first year. In a couple of years, I'm willing to bet that BYU is going to be playing against some pretty awesome teams.

Then there's the move to the WCC. Most say it's a step down in competition, especially in men's hoops, and I can't completely argue with that. But the addition of BYU raises the bar for the rest of the teams. Gonzaga will have a worthy foe after dominating the conference for the past several years. If the NCAA tourney game between BYU and the Zags was any indication, it's going to be a fun rivalry. I know that I'm looking forward to watching schools like Pepperdine and St. Mary's come into the Marriott Center and be bombarded by 22,700 screaming fans when they're used to venues that hold at most 8,000 people. I'm also looking forward to watching the other schools figure out that when BYU plays on the road, fans come out of the woodwork. I would guess that many of the basketball away games will almost be home games for BYU. I think the WCC is in for a bit of a culture shock, which will be fun to watch.

And for those fans who say that BYU only went independent because they had to show up Utah's move to the PAC-12, I say stop whining. I have been hearing and talking about BYU going independent for years. Sure, I may have been regurgitating what my dad told me, but that's not the point. The point is that independent talk has circulated around BYU for a long time, much longer than the couple of months between Utah's PAC-12 announcement and BYU's independence announcement.

Besides, when you really think about it, which schools do you think were driving the MWC to become better? Who gave the MWC credibility? Do you think it was SDSU and UNM? Yeah, I didn't think so. It was always Utah and BYU. They worked together; they were each other's staunchest supporters. They had the same goals in mind. So when Utah understandably took the much better option of going to the PAC-12, what reason was there for BYU to stay? Their conference partner had been offered a better opportunity that passed BYU by. Instead of moping and seeing if some other conference would come calling, the BYU officials took stock of their tools and resources and decided that going it alone was the best option. I wish Utah luck in their foray into the BCS world. I hope they succeed. But I don't think they did any better than BYU. Both schools made the best decisions for their respective programs, and you can't fault either one of them for it. I just hope both schools can excel with what they have and put the state of Utah on the map for college athletics.

Basically, I'm super stoked about all of these moves. BYU probably won't go undefeated and bust into a BCS bowl their first season. But they have more than a fair shot at another 10+ win season, and I can't wait to watch it unfold. September 3 can't get here soon enough. Go Cougars!

Mixed Feelings

After writing a post about TV that is completely lacking in any and all substance, I felt like I needed to at least acknowledge that I do know what happened yesterday. In fact, I was watching Alias when my roommate walked in the living room and told Cora and me the news. We paused the show and took the news in for a minute, then we pressed play. I didn't turn on the news. And the truth is, I didn't want to. I don't want to know the details. It's good enough to know that bin Laden is gone.

In a lot of ways, my emotions are mixed right now, but not because I think bin Laden's death is a bad thing. I just don't like celebrating the death of a human being. I'm not putting anyone down; everyone else can celebrate however they want. This is a good thing. I just don't feel like celebrating.

I've watched plenty of TV shows and movies where the bad guy has finally been killed and thought, "It's about dang time!" But this is real life. This isn't a fictional character on a screen. This was a real man whose life is now over. Don't get me wrong—bin Laden was an evil, evil man who needed to be stopped, and if this is the way it had to happen, so be it. I just have a hard time being happy and shouting for joy when I hear about loss of life.

You are never going to hear me say that bin Laden's death is a sad thing. Never in a million years. He was a terrible person who did terrible things, and knowing that he will never be able to do any of those things again makes yesterday a victorious day for the United States, and for the world in general. Those who serve this country are incredibly brave, loyal souls who ensure that I can live the way I do, and I will ever be grateful for that.

That is why I would say that I am satisfied that bin Laden is gone, that that threat to peace is now eliminated. But I will not cheer in the streets. It is sad that bin Laden lived his life in a way that made this the necessary end to it. I am satisfied in knowing that he is now facing his just reward and will be fully aware of all the sins he committed as he faces eternal judgment. Satisfied is a good word for how I feel. Satisfied, but not particularly happy.

With that said, I really like this photo.