On May 18th, The Boy proposed.  Obviously I said yes.  So...we are engaged...and gloriously happy.  We're thinking June 2013.  There are not enough words to really describe how I feel about him.  He's my absolute hero, the love of my life, the other half of my soul, the warmth of my world, my courage when I'm afraid, and my best friend.  I can't wait to be able to devote all my energy to being his wife and eventually the other of his children. 

Also, congratulations to New York to coming around.  I'm so excited.  How can two people loving each other and making a committment be a desecration to marriage?  Especially when not even Christians have loving marriages. 
God is Love. 
Love is Good. 

Let's focus on having more love in the world.  God revealed Himself to different cultures in different ways, and all His stories have been twisted an corrupted by mankind.  But from what I can tell from the ones I've studied, the central message is the same: love and be positive.

After the Winter, the Sun Comes Out

It's been ages since I've even thought of my blog here.  I miss having internet access to share whims and thoughts and hopes with others...to read theirs and share mine.  I'm such a social person, even though I spend so much time on my own.

The boy and I are still quite loverly.  The Ring has been purchased, though his best friend is still hiding it from me.  Quite adorable.  Another semester is almost over for him, which brings us closer to our utopia of special education and a home together as one.  So I sit here today, him sick in bed and me beside the bed typing my heart...Eddie Izzard on the tv keeping the boy awake while I lean against his shoulder.  I love him always, from the most romantic of outings to the most mundane of afternoons sitting at home.  He's my tiny hero.  I wouldn't trade him for the world.

Life.  Who knew I'd ever end up here?  Or that it could possibly be this wonderful?  I can't wait to see what else life brings us.

I miss...

...Kopecky Family Band.

...not having to work full time and sacrifice myself at a job I hate.

...being able to spend time with friends when I want to.

...my gay friends who have forsaken me for no reason.  I was one of the few who didn't freak when they came out, but for some reason I just didn't make the cut.  It's happened too many times for me to say it's just him or her...I can't make heads or tail of it.

...being Catholic.  The Mass.  Communion.  My veils.  Believing with my full self and *knowing*.  Things have come up in my life and my research that I cannot conscience being Catholic.  It was hard enough to live an unsustainable lifestyle.  But to tell me that now that I've found my soulmate that I cannot have him because he is paralyzed...it is wrong in so many ways.  I cannot support this. 

...cooking.  The last month I lived at my old apt my refrigerator broke and they wouldn't fix it...I couldn't keep food.  Then I moved in stages and lived a month without dishes.  Now the apt I've moved into already had many 6-legged inhabitants and in the process of evicting them I've had to spend the last month with a kitchen covered in poison.  I miss the thrift, the satisfaction, the gastronomical happiness of home-cooked food, even if it is simple fair. 

...my grandmother.  She died in her sixties...much later than my father's parents who were dead long before I was thought of, but still too young.  But I selfishly miss her!  I was 10 when she left this earth, and I'm more her than anyone else.  Everyone knows it, everyone says it to me.  But she doesn't know me.  Over the past couple of years the wound of her death has opened up like it hasn't been 14 years. 
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Why is it I appreciate types of people that are not commonly appreciated?  I love old people, disabled people, gay/trans people, people of other ethnicities/religions.  They have stories and experiences.  I have such an appreciation of who these people are individually and within their specific cultures if applicable.  I will never understand why people say old people are past their use.  I will never understand why people will never see past the wheelchair or the stutter.  I will never understand why people call differences in gender or sexuality "abomination" or "disgusting."  I will never understand why people don't understand the beauty of different or don't perceive the fount of knowledge they are turning their backs on.  Why am I so different?  Every time I get caught researching or doing something as innocent as going on a date with my boyfriend, I am reminded by the stares and comments that I am not like them.  I walk alone, neither fully different nor fully the same...just open-hearted.

Ups and downs and stumbling around.

My love and I have been through some rough times in both our individual lives and in our joined life lately...growing pains, I guess.  Every time we have a discussion or disagreement I'm just overwhelmed with relief that he's still here and overwhelmed with the most passionate love I've ever felt.  It's amazing really. 

About a week ago though, something happened to crack the gloss on our shiny life.  I mean, I obviously realize that Boy is different.  I know that when we go anywhere we are stared at, and I know he gets very strange emails from strangers all the time.  He's had asshole magicians ask him to come be in their acts when they pretend to cut someone in two so they can actually have a guy without legs to aid them.  He's had a German stalker make a gay fetish devotee site in his "honor."  I know this.  But last week I actually had one of these people approach ME.  He was an independent producer attempting to make a horror movie, and he wanted me to convince the love of my life to allow him to exploit Boy's differences.  He thought the most beautiful and amazing soul in this world was either hideous enough to be a monster or a victim of atrocities.  I cried on Boy that night, and I cried later on my long drive home from Boy's house.  I knew people judged him, but it had never come to me before, and it really hurt.  I want to enclose him in my arms and keep him from all harm and all ridicule.  He said, "baby I had to learn to deal with this when I was 7.  You're going to have to ignore this sort of thing."  It absolutely breaks my heart.  I'll never understand why people are this way.

People are so disgusting en masse.  I can understand ignorance but I cannot understand inconsiderateness and ugliness of the soul...I cannot understand meanness and prejudice.  People like to hurt others and to make them feel bad.  Gender, sexuality, disability, religion...people will pick the most arbitrary reasons!  I mean for me the more I learn about a people the more I want to learn and the more I respect them.  I have such a love for many types of people that are ridiculed by the public.  I will never understand society's hatred of people who are gender-different or differently-abled or have a different sexual preference.  I will never understand how someone's abilities or worth can be judged based on skin tone or religious affiliation.  Why is it freakish of me to love and respect different people? 

I finally managed with the love of Boy by my side to venture into the LGBT section of the local bookstore this weekend.  I must admit that I've been afraid to go in it alone but he encourages my interests no matter what others might say about me.  I've been studying gender roles and gender-related issues the past year or so, and I find it truly fascinating.  They vary from culture to culture on what is taboo or acceptable...but much of it is pancultural--just human.  I am coming to think that I might would like to go back to college either to study cultures or to become a Social Studies teacher, though honestly here in the South I'd probably be run out of town by an angry mob if I attempted to teach respect to people's children.  We'll see. 

Boy believes in me and supports me in every possible way and every possible venture.  I cannot wait to be his wife and the mother of his children, us-born or adopted or however we may attain them.

Settling in.

Well, I've been at my "new" job now for 5 months, though it definitely doesn't feel that long.  I've realized that working in law enforcement answering phones in the middle of the night, one hears *everything*.  I may soon steal dear Crescat's favorite description of "batshit crazy" to describe my shifts. 

I have also been with the love of my life for 8 wonderful months.  This is officially the longest relationship I've ever had.  Before we ever actually met in person, I knew this boy belonged in my life somehow.  I remember being a teenager and sitting up one Christmas with my brother and his wife, listening to them tell me about how it was for them to meet and just *know*.  Growing up I lost that faith that what my brother described could be real...and yet, I met; I *knew*.  This boy is my life...now and forever.  And in spite of the ups and downs and all the hard work, it's the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced.  In so many ways we are the same person, and in so many ways our differences complete and complement each other.  The stupidest things he does are so endearing to me.  It's sickening really.  So anyways, we're working to stabilize our individual selves to better build a foundation to come together eventually.  He's going back to school to get his Masters in Special Ed, which is absolutely perfect for who he is.  He absolutely loves children and his dream is to get paid to play with kids all day.  Also, with his background as a disabled person and with as many camps as he's volunteered at, we is well-suited for Special Ed. 
My love is a former world-class para-athlete, and I'm always enthralled by his stories.  And the body that so many view as broken, I see as so beautiful and precious.  I've learned so much about disabilities in our time together, and I've noticed so much ugliness towards people who are disabled.  People act like his lack of legs is something I should love him in spite of, but honestly it's never been a flaw to me.  I love his mind *and* his body.  He doesn't even want legs, so why should I want them for him?

I've completely lost my train of thought now.  Possibly because my sleep schedule is wonky, I moved this past weekend, and it's 6am after I've been at work since 645pm, lol.  Such is my life.  Rough yet beautiful. 

Changes on the horizon.

Tomorrow is my last day at the job I've had for over two years...my second job since college.  I'm so excited, yet I have no motivation to finish up my last few tasks.  Then I've got the holidays--including Thanksgiving with Boyfriend's family.  I've met them separately before, but this is my first holiday with them and I'm a tad nervous.  It's also my last holiday for a while that I won't have to work, because at the beginning of the month I'll move on to employment with the state as a dispatcher.  I can't wait!  New job...good, fair pay...no more accounting...no more of the beaurocratic bullshit from this awful company I've been with.  Usually I hate change, but this is one I've been working on for a year now--my escape!  Boyfriend is worried that with me on nights he won't get to talk to me much, but I have faith that something this minor (in my opinion) won't tear us apart.  I love him so much...I think he's my soulmate.  He'll be starting grad-school soon anyway so he can teach special ed.  I'm so proud of him.  If we can both get our health together and get settled financially, we may have a wonderful future in the making!  I'm so happy.

Happy Friday

Life & Death.

I really struggle with death.
Not with my own death--with the passing of others.  My reactions tend to be stronger, more volatile than those of others.  My horror of encountering corpses borders on a full-on panic attack.  I don't know why I am this way.

I miss my grandmother.  She will have been dead 13 years this New Years Eve.  I remember the day she died: it was the first time I watched the ball drop.  I was 10 years old, and I had spent the entire day with a premonition...I knew someone would die, I just didn't know who.  I knew it like I knew my own name, and it was terrifying.  That night as I lay there in bed trying to sleep, I was afraid of what may be in the dark.  I don't know why...I just was.  And even though I was 10 when she died and I spent a lot of time with her, what I actually remember of her is fleeting moments.  But God I miss her.

I also miss Brittany, one of my hallmates in college.  She died on Valentines Day, in a wreck on the way to see her boyfriend in an unplanned trip.  They had planned to wait until the weekend.  I saw her before she left--she was working on a blanket in the hall when I went to class and when I returned, and I giggled at her diligence.  I wish I had offered to help, rather than going to take a nap.  Who knew it'd be the last time I'd see her alive?  I remember that even though we'd been busy that semester, I had gone to dinner with her and a few others from our hall in the cafeteria a couple days earlier...I remember walking & talking with her, playing with her hair, just being girls.  These memories are precious to me.  It's been 3 1/2 years now, and I still cry thinking about it.  I'll never understand why the kindest soul I've ever met was snuffed out so early.  She was going to be a missionary doctor...she was going to marry her sweet boyfriend who is a pilot...she was our "soccer mom."  Not now.  But at least she can finally hear in heaven--no more yelling when we're whispering, no more loud "huh?!", no more surgery.  I'm selfish in my grief.

Things That Warm My Heart

Kopecky Family Band.

Scarves.  Fuzzy neck scarves...silky head scarves...I love them all.

When I come home and my bunny does a dance because he missed me.

Cuddling with my boyfriend on a lazy afternoon.

Artsy-fartsy people who are chill and fun to have adventures with.

Good wine.

A beautiful Catholic church, lit only by candles and tinted light streaming through the stained glass windows. 

My grandma's macaroni.

Having girl-talk with my mom.  The day I discovered she was more than just a "mom" changed my life.

Sweet old couples who are still in love with each other.

Candles--no matter what the occasion.

Life's Complications & Joys

I want to attend Mass again, but I don't feel fully right doing that considering that I don't agree with the Church on a lot anymore.  Catholic is still where I feel most at home, but I know I can't take Communion by their standards.  I guess it would be okay to go back and just not receive...feels odd though.  Maybe I can just go pray sometime when they're open.  I think that would make me happy.

I'm not living up to Catholic standards, since I don't agree with some of them.  But I don't feel like I'm living badly.  I'm so happy lately, even though there's been a lot of stress lately. 

Being an adult is sooooo much harder than I thought it would be, which makes me giggle.  I can't quite afford life, but somehow I live.  I haven't lost my apartment yet, and I've been on my own for a year--that's progress.  The biggest loss if I did lose it would be my pet bunny; Billee is my number one fella! 

Speaking of fellas, I'm so in love.  I met this guy on a dating site (LOL!), and it actually worked out.  We're both epic nerds...we've got a ridiculous amount of stuff in common.  Before I met him, I didn't believe in soul mates.  I hope he keeps me.