I can hear the bells…

Okay, okay. What we have here is a serious case of NEED TO BLOG IT OUT.

Oh my lanta, how crazy has my life gotten? In a span of 4 months, I have traveled overseas, moved to another city and now I am…FIANCEE’D. (<— is this a word? Should be.)

Mmm-hmm, this girl is moving on and moving up in her life experience log! It’s been fun but it’s also been a little bit challenging…overwhelming…discouraging…and yet all ultimately geared toward my self-improvement and an amazing future.

I’ve realized that the best way to do this is to break it down in point form for your (hopefully) reading pleasure.


You CAN survive on bare essentials.
When I moved down to Langley, most of my stuff was in a 1989 Chevy van that Steven and his dad use for the work of laying floors.
Three hours away from my new home, that van’s transmission decided it had done enough kilometer time, thank you very much, and proceeded to die on the side of the road accordingly.
Now, normally, this might not be a massive problem. Except for the fact that it was the long weekend of Canada Day, so nothing in town was open. No mechanics, no U-hauls. Only the little wilderness town of Lillooet, which was located in sort-of the opposite direction from where we were. (If we were traveling straight from north to south, let’s just say Lillooet was an hour west.) They had a U-haul open randomly until 11pm and when we called them, we learned that they did indeed have a trailer we could rent to bring the van home.
So we called our buddy Jeff and asked if he could bring his truck to meet us in Lillooet. Our plan was to pick up the trailer, bring it back to the van, hitch it up, put it on and keep driving. However, we didn’t plan on the wheel base of the van being maaaaybe 1/2 of an inch too wide for the trailer. We also didn’t plan on discovering this close to midnight. The only choice we had was to leave the van there until the weekend was over and we could come back to have it towed to a mechanic.
In the dark of the night, I rooted through my stuff, trying to find what I would need for the next few days. Don’t ask me how I forgot underwear and shampoo. (On a completely unrelated side note – men’s underwear? Not the tightie-whities or loose boxers, but the in-between elastic shorts? Extremely uncomfortable for a woman who favours skinny jeans. I mean, at least I imagine so. Because I *haven’t* ever had to wear them.) We did not reach home until 4:30 that morning.
Through a series of long and slightly unfortunate mechanical events, it was another week and a half before my stuff and I were reunited and enjoying life together in the dwelling of a house.

Jobs don’t fall into your lap.
I’ve been unemployed for 3 months. I can’t get on EI yet. I went to Europe and I moved to an area that has recently been listed in the newspaper as “the most expensive place to live in North America.” Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of jobs out there…I just don’t happen to be a roofer or big-rig mechanic or hair stylist or have the ability to speak fluent Punjabi. It’s tough out there. I’ve had interviews and call backs, but no one has been quite interested enough. It’s been a little discouraging because the last time this happened, I was able to find another job right away and I guess I banked on it being the same this time around. However, if I ever feel the black hole of depression trying to close over me, all I have to do is remember that Booster Juice needs a mascot – someone who can put on a massive cup costume, complete with iPod, and dance on the side of the road until passersby cannot resist any longer. They MUST have a Booster Juice.
I could be that dancing cup.

You are not fat.
You may have fat ON you, but you yourself are not the verbal description of fat. Your existence does not equal one big blob of fat. Really, I don’t see how anyone could call themselves fat, if you think about it. We all just have a certain scoop of jelly on our toast and that’s okay.
I’ll admit, though, with all this stress happening, I died a little inside when I stepped on the scale and discovered I was 144 pounds. That may not seem like a lot to some of you, but for someone who’s usually always around 130, 144 is the highest I’ve ever been. And I think most of the 14 pounds I gained were in the tops of my legs, if you know what I’m saying. Of course, there’s no possible way that any of that could have made its way to my bosom. No. Because that would actually be nice, and quarter pounders with cheese are not nice.
So lately, Steven and I have been making small daily decisions for our better health. We’ve cut out consuming pop almost altogether, rewarding ourselves with one a day, for starters. (Dr. Pepper was never so exciting as it was yesterday.) Down the road, we’ll get more ruthless, like one every other day. LOTS of water is being consumed instead. And we definitely enjoy going for walks; I daresay that twice, we have spurred our gait into a canter!
(That’s “We’ve even done a bit of jogging,” for those un-horsed people out there.)

Menstruation stops for no woman.
Wouldn’t it be nice if every time things got a little crazy in your life, your cycle put on its thinking cap and decided, “Hmmm, the body I’m in has had a bit of a tough time lately, I think I’ll cut them a break this month.” ? Yeah. It has no mercy, and it has the worst sense of timing too. Throughout the last two months, it has appeared three times, and ALL at uber-stressful moments when I could really do without the added desire to punch someone in the face. It has tried to make me into someone that I KNOW I’m not, but then it tricks me into thinking that maybe I AM that crazy person and I’ve just been denying it the whole time.
Me no likey. All I have to say is thank God for Wendy’s Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers, hot water bottles and Steven’s massages.

Hyder, Alaska is f*ing insane.
Heh. Okay. Understatement of the day.
Last week, Steve and I decided to take a 17 hour drive through B.C. so we could cross the border into what is weirdly identified as Alaska (because it’s not connected to Alaska in any other way, just Canada) so that we could visit my mom for a few days.
Now, a 17 hour drive anywhere is slightly exhausting. And I don’t really understand how it is, because you’re just sitting in a car all day barely moving.
But we went to Hyder. To visit my mother. The last frontier, the wild West, no-man’s-land, so to speak. There are no cops. No hospitals. You can drive and be drinking out of an open beer can at the same time; you can carry a gun in a holster because, hey, you just never know if someone’s gonna piss you off, causing you the need to settle this the old-fashioned way. Everyone knows everything about everybody, and mum fits right in there. *surprise surprise* And if the locals don’t get ya, the bears and bugs will. We had two bear encounters and at least 33,000 bug encounters. We slept in my mom’s travel trailer for 5 nights with her and 3 dogs. We cooked, we cleaned, we took $3.00 8-minute showers, we drove without seat belts, we had fuh-RESH fish and chips, we spilled Benadryl all over ourselves in the middle of the night, we played pool and had the best beer ever and we got engaged. At the top of a glacier. Needless to say, we *love* Hyder.

God is not my enemy.
Seriously, when will I truly get the fact that my Dad is actually on my side, cheering me when I succeed; picking me up and brushing me off when I fail? So many times in these past weeks, I’ve been like, “Seriously, God, what the hell are you doing? Yeah, I said HELL, whatcha gonna do ’bout it?” *commence with childish crossing of the arms and stamping of the foot.*
And every single time, he’s proceeded to blow my mind with how he answers that question, no matter how petulantly it is asked. I’ve just decided that I’m not going to wait in anxiety to see how he’s going to provide this time, but I’m going to wait with excitement and joy because I know it’s going to be awesome.

Bottom line is, I am beyond blessed and thankful for so many things.

And did I mention I’M GETTING MARRIED IN 57 DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There’s no way we’d be able to pull that off without the amazing help of our family and friends. LET’S DO THIS THANG!

And there’s no one else I’d rather spend this cray-cray life with, man. God knew exactly who I would need, and he outdid himself. =)

Now I must depart. If you don’t hear from me in, say, the next 57 days, just know that I’m out there living my dream and I’m probably going to have a lot to say when things settle down.

2012. Man, what a year. WHAT. A. YEAR.

Bring it on.