O.O Do Not Like

First, I know I totally failed at the daily blog thing. Apparently getting home after 3am one night and then working the weekend and being distracted by my fiance and Jaime and Claire in Outlander is enough to make me forget about blogging.

Tonight though I am blogging because I need to try to calm down a bit. I have never felt so much panic as what I did tonight while on my way back home from the movies. I was following my fiance home and watched him nearly get rear-ended while going 65 mph while changing lanes. It was probably the most terrifying thing I’ve experienced in, well, ever. It involved more panic and physical reactions on my part than when I had a drunk, psychotic patient grabbing for an eight-inch knife from a co-worker or any of the times when I was doing military training with live ammunition (because really, who trusts the idiots that are people in basic training?) or any of the times I tried to kill myself when I was a kid. Honestly, I discovered tonight that I really could not care less about my health and safety when compared to my fiance’s. It is both an interesting discovery and one that makes me wonder just how much it is possible to love another. Apparently enough so to feel as though I was watching my entire world disappear.

Luckily for me the entire thing lasted no more than three seconds and everyone is safe and fine and I had at least 12 minutes to calm down enough that I was able to grab him into a bear hug and tell him he’s not allowed to ever do that again as soon as we were both out of our vehicles. If I hadn’t had that time and some soothing music, I’m not so sure I would have managed to not burst into tears as soon as I touched him. That would have been rather embarrassing you know.

Anywho, I’m off to remind him that he’s not allowed to go away in any sort of permanent sense. Again.


Observation #252 (or 2)

I’m sitting in a motorcycle dealers lot while waiting for my fiance to talk to the mechanics here to figure out what in the world went wrong with his “new” 2009 S1 (I think it’s an S1, maybe it’s an R1? Whatever the speedy speedy racey one is) since after owning it for less than 2 weeks the battery apparently decided to stop working on him. Highly annoying, right? I’m thinking so at least because it really is a fun bike to ride around on, if a bit uncomfortable for the passenger. That be way off-topic though. The point is that this is not the first spot of trouble he’s had with the bike. Nope.

The first night he was the proud new owner of said bike, he tried to drive it off the lot only to find that it would no longer start. Rather than having the fun of showing off a new bike, we instead got to laugh and joke about his problem child toy. This was especially annoying as we had plans to try to cheer up a friend of his who had recently lost her job and she *loves* anything to do with motorcycles. Rather than meeting up for karaoke and giving her the chance to ride any bike, she got to see pics on a phone and laugh with us, though her heart wasn’t quite in it.

Fast forward a few weeks and he’s greatly annoyed by the bike yesterday morning when the engine won’t turn over so he can leave for work. I’m still in bed trying to decide whether I’m going to join the land of the living or return to dreamland when he stomps back upstairs to put his riding gear down and says something about the battery being dead. Say what? First, he never stomps, so that was new, and second, the bike was working fine less than a week ago. WTF, mate? Jump forward half a day and we jumpstart it using his car and leave it running while he does some mechanic voodoo magic stuff to make it stop squealing when it turns on or the wheels turn. (In case you can’t tell, I don’t know a damn thing about cars besides how to drive them, and even that is something of a miracle in my mind.) While in the midst of doing that, his bike does some very short splutter, cough, cough, *dead* dance thing and we’re both like “wah…. huh?” because that’s really not the way this is supposed to work. Even mechanically dumb people like me know that if an engine is going, even just idling, it is usually going to be able to get some reserves going in the battery. W.T.F?! Cue much grumbling and mumbling under our breath. And that leads to me in a bike lot the next day sans a shower and trying to decide if my throat will tolerate food when we get back home because my body is craving protein like no other. But that’s another post and another story.

The moral of the story, at least in my mind, is that even if something seems like a great deal, think about it long and hard before deciding what you want to do with it. This bike had been lost in the back of the bike shop for 2 years because someone forgot to remove a “missing part” sticker from it. They only realized this after they got new 2011 R1/S1 (whatever the hell it is) series in. So he got a brand spanking new, high-end sportbike for basically the high end of what it would sell used. Awesome trade in for is S6 or whatever it was that he had before. But… since then it has caused much more trouble and grr argh than it is worth. People don’t just give things away for the hell of it. Especially businesses. I’m also of the superstitious kind and really, if something managed to get lost for so long, there are really only two possibilities: it was “waiting” for a particular owner to come by (highly unlikely, but I suppose not unheard of) or it was operhaps not the best of the bunch and there’s something of a jinx on it. I’m leaning towards option number two in this case.

Ah well. And hey, you never know, maybe I’ll be surprised and I’ll be coming back in a few months and writing about how persistence can introduce you to some very interesting different sort of things or how waiting to pass judgement can yield some interesting results. *shrugs* Who knows really? I know I don’t.


A Very Nice Memory

I normally don’t post twice in the same day. But, this is a new blog and I’m still bored and recovering from getting my tonsils removed so hopefully you can forgive me. I’m going to share with you a bit of the conversation I had a few days ago that made realize that I really do need to start writing again, if for no other reason than to help siphon some of the crazy intense emotions I have taken hostage in my heart and head.

“Do you believe in true love or Soul-mates?”

“Well, I found you, didn’t I?”

Now, I’ve had this conversation with my fiance in the past and so his answer is not precisely new to me. It’s just that when he answers that way to that particular question it sends the most delicious sparks traveling all along my nervous system and fire through my veins. Yes, I know that’s a metaphor, yadda yadda yadda, however, when I feel the sudden increase in energy and heat in my body, I cannot help but use those metaphors as descriptors and hope that a reader will realize they’re more than just a few words typed across a page.

You see, my fiance is a fairly practical man who has had his heart broken several different ways in the last four years. He was previously engaged and it was ended because she had an epiphany that he would hold her back from realizing her potential of becoming a neurosurgeon. (Um, the man in question was working on masters degree and had just recently graduated only 1 semester late from CSM with a double-bachelors in two separate engineering fields and the only reason he was late at all was because he had been required by the Army to change around classes for a cancelled deployment. He did all that while working full time jobs and paying his own rent and tuition and everything. How in the world would he have held anyone back from getting an education?) His father had passed away from throat cancer, his older brother was using his family to support his drug and alcohol habit as well as involuntary resources for income while he was in various half-way homes, and he had heard over and over that he was a really great guy, but that he just wasn’t the kind of guy that girls could date. He was an awesome friend, but somehow didn’t quite match what they wanted for a boyfriend. In the course of less than five years, he lost his Faith, his faith in humanity, and I believe he was starting to lose faith in himself as well.

Then I come waltzing into his life and don’t even realize that I have totally shaken the foundation of his world. I don’t consider myself all that interesting or amusing or amazing or anything more than somewhere between “weird” and “just on this side of daft.” However, he seems to think I’m pretty cool for some reason or other, and I’m not going to complain because it means I get to to stick around, and he actually wants me to do so. Actually, he asked me to do so on a permanent basis, but that’s just taking the same idea and expanding it. The thing about it is, we both “knew” within the first week of actually meeting that this thing between us, whatever it was, was so very different from anything either of us had previously experienced. Despite both of us searching for days and days to find another explanation, the only one that made sense to either of us was that, maybe we needed to start looking at that very scary Soul-mate explanation.

He wasn’t as hesitant to look at it as I was. For me, it was scary because I had already resigned myself to being more or less permanently single my entire life while searching for my one and only because I wasn’t going to settle. I had done so once before and it hurt like hell to get out of that marriage and was even worse to try to recover from. If this man whom I had just met was really my Soul-mate… how in the world was I going to rewrite my entire foreseeable future? Again. Because despite being weirdly in sync with him about so many things, I still didn’t actually know the man. Despite knowing that I loved him and trusted him and genuinely knew I was safe with him, I had no clue why I felt safe around him. I knew him, I loved him, I trusted him, I was ready to live my entire life with him, but I had no clue why I was okay with all of that after less than a week!

Luckily, I was done with questioning and fighting fate and tired of feeling stressed and like I was out of control of my own life, so rather than pulling away, I said fine, let’s see where this goes. And so did he. And together we have fallen into a routine that is so perfectly us, and yet took so little effort and was already known. There are so many little things that are telling me I was looking for him all my life without really knowing it.
– Despite really liking the Mediterranean Jewish look on guys, the three men I have been with have had darkish blond hair and blue/green eyes
– My first boyfriend has the same birthday as my fiance
– My first boyfriend was in the same class at CSM as my fiance (I like ’em geeky and smart, what can I say?)
– My first husband (stupid, stupid, stupid) I met in the Army while apparently my fiance had his reserve drill in the same building that I did, just upstairs
– And several other things that aren’t coming to mind now but that I may add later.

I know it seems silly, but some part of me feels like I knew what I was looking for… but that I was just half a step off from the universe and couldn’t manage to get phased back in. He on the other hand, said that he could just never find what he was looking for and so he kept turning back to what was comfortable, which eventually turned into his worst heartbreak.

Well, we found each other, and I’ve managed to restore some of his faith in some part of the universe. Because now if is asked about true love or Soul-mates, he has only to look to his side to see proof for both, in his mind at least. And he’s restored my belief in Fate, so I suppose we’re even in that sense.

And now that I’ve officially meandered far more than I had ever intended to, I will bid you farewell.