Carter and Whitney: An Engagement Story

In case I forgot to mention it, Carter and I were engaged. It preceded us getting married if you are confused about the timeline of my blog. I am fundamentally against time-constraints on the basis that we are eternal beings. Time is totally irrelevant. I mean, who will ever care in the future eternities that I'm late to church every Sunday? Who?

 

Man, I love that nail polish.

Carter's family vacationed in Canada in August 2012 and I joined them for the weekend. After six weeks apart we were more than happy to see each other. They stayed in a house on the inlet of the pacific ocean so Carter suggested we take the rowboat out and attempt to spot some of the sea seals he had been seeing earlier in the week. Carter rowed us around a bit but it ended up being too dark to see anything. I remember wondering why we didn't just row back and try again tomorrow. By the time Carter finally did row us back it was so dark we could only see by the light of the house shining off the shore, but I could see a point of light on the dock. I joked that there seemed to be people on the dock and that we shouldn't go over there or we might ruin their moment. I then joked that they might be robbers/murderers/bad people and that we should just land elsewhere, except I was only half joking and might have even begged Carter to stop until we could figure out what the unidentified object was. In any case, we did land on the dock and it turned out to be a lovely candle-lit dessert table that Carter had prearranged for us. Duh. This is an engagement story.

 I should interject here that I knew this was coming. We had gone ring shopping together the month before so when Carter suggested I come up for the weekend that was my first thought. Not to mention Carter started to breathe really heavily as we approached the dock. As I re-read that, that sounds borderline creepy but in reality it was pretty cute. Like, he was really nervous and unable to control his bodily functions. Cute, right? So it was all very romantic, except for me. I couldn't stop myself from ruining the moment...every moment. It was like an out-of-body experience where I could see from a vantage point that what I was doing was horribly wrong but mind and body weren't making any sort of connection. Carter went to tie up the boat and I kept insisting that I help even though he kept insisting that he only wanted to tie up one end ("Really, I can tie this. But really. I can"). He just dropped our life jackets on the dock and right before he got down on one knee I made us pick the life jackets back up and hang them on our chair. I don't know what can over me. All I can say in my defense is that I am really unromantic. They call me murderer of love.

Carter said some very nice things about me and then he got down on one knee and proposed. I said yes. He tried to put the ring on the wrong finger but we figured it out. It was a beautiful moment. Carter is easily my favorite person in the whole world. It is incredible how well made we are for one another.

In an alternate, yet perhaps more honest, ending to our proposal story, when I realized what was happening I almost asked Carter to stop. I almost made him get up from his knee and I almost asked him to propose on a different day because today, in that moment, I wasn't feeling it. I was scared and unsure because, after all people, this is marriage! MARRIAGE. As in an eternal covenant with God! So for an eternity - or half a second, I honestly wondered if 'yes' or 'no' was going to come out of my mouth. As it turns out, I said yes, because I loved him and I thought it might crush him if I said anything else. In a poetic way, I think that is a more fitting response to a marriage proposal but it wasn't exactly what I was expecting.

Even after I said yes, there were still lots of periods of indecision during our engagement. Lest anyone think I am confessing to marital unhappiness, I am head over heels for Carter and we are happier than we have ever been. Marrying Carter was the easily the best decision I've ever made in the most cliche way. I just wanted to relate a more truthful version of this story with the message that real-life true love is less about romance and more about sacrifice. And it's OK for times to be hard and decisions to be scary. It's life, after all.

Happy One Year Anniversary, Ling Ling!

When I started this blog, and all 800 of my journals, I didn't have any particular goals or any general audience in mind. In fact, I didn't even intend to tell people about my alternate persona 'Ling Ling'. You know, the alternate personality who admits how in love she is with her TAs, proudly proclaims her accomplishments across the internet, and thinks she is pretty funny... oh wait, that last one is me. I just meant to write about myself for myself and see where myself would lead me. And after a lifetime of failed journals and one surprisingly successful year of a blog, I have learned quite a lot about myself. I do not care at all about deadlines. I like lame jokes. I care about the real world...the one that exists outside of this Utah bubble. I take pictures. I overuse question marks and colons. I think my family is out-of-this-world hilarious. And lastly, but probably most importantly, I don't care enough about what I'm putting on the internet. Like my dream crush on Devin...totes not approp.

Of course, I guess I did tell a few people about my blog (but only out of honesty when directly asked the question 'do you have a blog?') and so I begun posting with only one goal in mind: entertainment. Maybe I've strictly adhered to this, maybe I haven't. In reference to my journal I once told a friend, "My general goal is to write something that someone will eventually want to read, so I throw in some dinosaurs here and there and call it a day. Historical accuracy? Not really a priority." I apply the same philosophy to my blog, hence the tagline "I reserve the right to exaggerate as much as possible". I sincerely hope you, whoever you are (my sources tell me mainly the continental US, Alaska, and Canada), have been entertained this year. I certainly have. And if you find this need was not met, just follow the links at the bottom of this post. I know plenty of entertaining internet treasure troves.

From some cute girls at BYU who I will probably recognize on campus and then have to pretend like I don't: http://awkwardgirls.blogspot.com/

This is a sophmore at BYU-I and she gets all her clothes thrifted alllllll the time. It's incredible. She's also inspiring me with her No-Make-Up-November: http://thriftedthings.blogspot.com/

You don't know this girl but I do and she is saucy:http://freethebody.blogspot.com/2010/10/shark-week.html

Fuuuuunnnnnny: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html

My Millie

Today my (ex) roommate got herself hitched! I figure now that she's married I can finally post all the creeper phone pictures I've been dying to put up. Don't hate me Mela!


Amelia I am soooo happy for you and excited for your new life. Now that I know where you'll be living expect me to show up everyday next semester to hang out with you and hubby. It'll never get old. Promise. Love you tootsie!

Vagabond Week

Once I was a monkey in a play called Words, Words, Words. Fellow monkeys were Steve Geluso and Britton Winterrose. Steve was a character, unlike any I've ever met. I know approximately 4 things about Steve: 1. He likes type-writers 2. He has an uncanny climbing ability 3. He once asked Rainn Wilson to play chess with him and 4. He scanned all 258 pages of the calculus solutions manual to be used for the good of high school calculus students everywhere until his site was shut down for suspected terrorist activity. He also is my hero because he has accomplished one of my secret desires for social experimentation: live as a hobo for a week. To be fair he calls it Vagabond week and vehemently denies this week as having anything to do with homelessness but meh, close enough.

The rules:

1. Vagabonds are required to not spend consecutive nights in the same place.
2. Vagabonds must spend one night with people they have never met before.
3. Vagabonds carry all clothing and necessary goods with them.
4. Vagabonds cannot bring laptops and phones are used only to make phone calls.
5. Vagabonds only eat what they are given for free.
6. Vagabonds must spend at least one night outside.

Ok, I may have made up a few of those last rules but if I were to put on Vagabond Week that's how I'd do it. Interested? Here's the link: http://dailyuw.com/2009/4/6/finding-new-perspective/

A Storybook Childhood

When I was a small child we lived in Japan for a few years. Though my memories are sparse - only moments snatched here and there - they are fantastic.

The first day we arrived in Okinawa the sky opened up and cried marbles. I marveled as only a child can, wide eyed and gaping. Such were all my memories, of childhood wonder and exotic ambiance. A mystic quality saturated the air and we breathed it with deep full breaths. We played kick-the-can among the tropical foliage and raced the monsoons home. Upon playgrounds of towering red nets we were spiders creeping on top of the world. It was a storybook childhood, framed by endless beaches of crushed diamonds and sapphire blue seas.