7 years of...some kind of luck

Today is our 7 year wedding anniversary.  7 whole years.  You know what that means?  We got married way too young.  HA!  No really....we did.

Anyhow, Daniel and I have gone through a lot together and have come out on top...most of the time.  

I know that in the Midwest, people getting married at 21 is no big deal.  In Austin...people look at us like we're nuts. And we didn't live together before we were married either.  Now we're nuts and we have an extra arm growing out of our head.  But to a lot of people it would be utterly despicable to even think about "living in sin"/shacking up before wedlock.  It's all about perspective.  

I hear the argument a lot that, "you wouldn't buy a car without test driving it, would you?"  Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Here's our side of the coin.  See, Daniel and I got married at 21 after dating less than 2 years.  That's really soon.  After we got married we went through a typical rough patch that made us both question if we had made the right decision.  One of my favorite lines an old co-worker gave me was, "Never get married.  It's a lot easier to kick em out than it is to divorce em."  So true.  Thanks Rene.  But keeping that in mind, if we had gone through that same rough patch as "live-in boyfriend/girlfriend" that rough patch could have ended in us breaking up.  But because we were married we stuck it out and guess what?!  It wasn't the end of the world!  We got through it and now we are really truly stinkin' happy.  Like the kind of happy that annoys others.  So you could say that marriage saved our relationship. ;)  

Every year for Christmas I make Daniel's sisters make my presents instead of buying them.  It has made Christmas 4 billion times more awesome and I am not even remotely kidding.  

Last year, Daniel's youngest sister Mallory asked Daniel and I to send her "our story" about how we met, started dating, blah blah blah.  We didn't know why, but we both did it... separately.  Well it was a part of our Christmas present.  I asked Daniel if I could have "his story" to post here so you can read both versions.  

My story:

Well, you know there are 3 sides to every story: His side; my side; and the truth.  =)

I moved to the KC area in February of 2002 with the intention of helping Andrew and Jade get a Master’s Commission started at FAOG Lee’s Summit.  How silly I was, thinking that my plans were going to work out!  

I met Daniel fairly soon after I got to Lee’s Summit.  I was sitting in the office/Youth Sunday School room playing solitaire on Andrew's computer and all I remember was Daniel was sitting across from me.  Being the shy girl that I am, I started asking him about himself.  I cracked a lame joke and he chuckled.  Perfect.   He was so quiet and had the dark hair, skin and eyes that I find attractive so I immediately knew I was going to start liking him…eventually. 

Well, for the next few months, I did not like Daniel.  I’m sure he’ll tell you about how I yelled at him in front of everyone at a lock in and embarrassed him so badly.  But again…that’s his side of the story.  =)

Over that summer, the entire youth group it seemed had gone on some choir trip (what that means, I still have no idea) except…the Cottermans.  The Cottermans were a strange family, I thought.  They all had different hair colors, so I didn’t know for the longest time that they were siblings.  I told myself that I was going to get to know them better while everyone else was gone.  I knew all along that I wanted to get to know one Cotterman in particular more than the others…but I tried to keep that to myself.

It just so happened that my roommate, Patty had been invited to a party at the Cotterman house to celebrate Mom Cotterman finishing school (or something like that).  I was a little jealous because I wanted to hang out at the Cotterman house, but I hadn’t been invited.

Then on my birthday, I got a card from Daniel.  It was by far the strangest birthday card I had ever gotten and even now I have to laugh when I think about it.  It was a “Mahogany” card.  You know…the cards marketing specifically for black culture.  He thought it looked “Southwestern-y” and he knew I was from Texas.  I’m still laughing.  In the card he was very vague, but he did tell me that I was also invited to the party!  Hooray! 

So that weekend we went to the party and I felt very awkward.  When I came in and was standing around in the kitchen with all the ladies, Cindy (Daniel's mom) lets me know that Daniel won’t be home until later.  I was at first confused, then embarrassed and I am sure both of these emotions were very clearly stated in my expression.   She tried to back-pedal (she hasn’t gotten any better at that over the years) but it was too late.   I felt so silly going over there now.  So, I left the adult area and decided to hang out with the teenagers.  At some point we all headed downstairs in the basement and started looking at pictures.  We found Dan and Cindy’s wedding album and Tina and I were looking through it.  I noticed that 20 year old Dan looked a whole lot like 20 year old Daniel.  I pointed this out to Tina, who agreed.  Then I said, “You know what that means?  Daniel would be a good investment.”  She laughed.   I wasn’t kidding. 

Eventually Daniel came home, we all chilled out and I decided that night that I was going to pursue this investment opportunity. 

Over the next few weeks, he and I spent a lot of time together after church just hanging out.   At some point during these weeks we decided we were going to be officially “dating”.  The day after we decided that, I changed my mind and dumped him.  Why?  I have no idea.  But let me tell you about why I changed my mind again the very next day.

My cell phone did not work at my apartment.  There was a parking lot up the road from me that I got a good signal at, so whenever I wanted to call and chat with anyone, I drove to that parking lot.  Well, the night after we decided to become a couple, I called Daniel pretty late and asked him to come meet me at my parking lot so we could talk.  He comes out there and he had obviously already gone to bed, but came out there anyway.  I gave him this long speech about being busy and needing to focus on Master’s and blah blah blah.  He told me that he would wait for me whether I needed two weeks or two years.  This didn’t really faze me though.  THEN after a long talk, I get out of his car and go to get back in my truck….and the door is locked…and the keys are in it.  Great.  I went back to his car and told him.  He called a locksmith for me.  He also waited with me until the locksmith showed up.  He then paid the locksmith for me.  AFTER I JUST DUMPED THE GUY!   What the heck did I just do?!

So, the next day I spent the whole day at Jade’s moping around.  At some point I made the comment that I had a good excuse to be grouchy after what had happened.  She retorted with, “No, Daniel has a good excuse for being grouchy.  You don’t.”

So, I called him that night and we talked for a crazy long time and decided that we were back together again.  That was September 26, 2002. 

We went through the same stuff everyone else goes through while dating.   Nothing really exciting every happened.  We knew pretty quickly that we wanted to get married, but I had it in my mind that it would be several years before that ever happened.  Daniel, however, had an 18 month time frame in mind.  He really shouldn’t have told me that because it scared the poop outta me.  Ironically, the exact time he had guessed we might get married was when we did get married. 

We started making plans and after trying to decide between having the wedding in KC or in San Antonio, we decided on KC.  My family is pretty small, so it made more sense than all of his family coming down to Texas. 

Well, I had started to feel that Daniel had been making all the decisions for the wedding.  At one point I mentioned Vegas and that was immediately vetoed.  Then the venue I picked was no good, so he picked out a different one.  Things like this kept going on…until the cake decision came to be made.  I had picked out a cake already.  I took Daniel to the store to show him the cake in the book.  He said he didn’t like that one.  That was it.  I was the girl; I am supposed to pick all this stuff out!  So after that things were changed.  We decided to compromise.  I wanted to elope; he wanted a big fancy wedding.  So, we had a nice wedding in Vegas.  It was exactly what I wanted: Easy.  I just showed up, looked pretty, got married and that was all I had to do.  It was my favorite wedding ever.  And I did end up getting that cake I wanted.  =)

That was over 6 years ago and at the risk of being cliché, I love him more now than I ever could have imagined back then. 

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His Story:

I'm trying to remember how it all started. I remember the first time I really interacted with Heather was at the church during the video scavenger hunt. Josh Coster and I were wheelie-ing the wheelchair during Andrews speech. I was in the chair and Josh tipped me over in front of everyone. I was embarrassed enough, but Heather, who didn't know me at the time said rather loudly "What are you, like 5?"

I was so embarrassed/angry, I left and went home. I knew right then that I liked her, but I obviously felt that she didn't think the same way. I think she was just trying to backup Andrew as a leader and as a Masters Commission student, but she really did care for me, secretly.

A few weeks later , Mom was throwing a party at our house for graduating school or Seargents test. She invited Patty and Heather to come. The party had started before I was home from work or class, I think class actually. Anyway, while Patty and Heather were mingling and talking to a group of moms friends, Mom said outloud "Daniel isn't here yet. He will be home in a little while". Heather was embarrassed because as she secretly liked me, she didn't want everyone to know that she cared, especially in front of Patty and all the ladies of the church. After I got home, a group of us hung out in my room and watched Lord of the Rings Fellowship of the Ring, Heathers favorite movie at the time.

Over that summer she and I hung out a lot mostly at night going to parks or one of our favorites was going to Dennys or sitting in the bed of her truck talking. At some point near the end of summer, she asked what we were. I lied and said I hadn't thought about it. I hoped to start going out, but I didn't want to complicate things with youth or Masters, but after talking about it with Jade, Heather asked me out on a date. We wen t to see Legally Blonde 2 (Heather's note: we went to see My Big Fat Greek Wedding, actually) and Marcy and Pat Droege were there too. It was weird, but we didn't talk to them. We continued to date for a couple weeks.

Heather asked me to meet her at the park near Pattys one night. I drove over and she sat in my car and we talked. Mostly she talked and she didn't feel comfortable dating with her youth leader and Masters commitments. So we broke up and as she went to leave, her keys were locked in her truck. I called to have her door opened around midnight and paid the man and we left. I went home pretty upset, but I told Heather to take as much time as she needed to figure it out.

After a few days a of moping around and some heart to heart talking with Jade, Heather decided to go for it, and she asked if I still wanted to have a relationship. I was so excited and a little confused because only 2 days before she wanted to break it off. I obliged and we have been together ever since.

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Here is what Mal made for us:

Happy Anniversary Honey!!!

10 Things...

A vast majority of my friends ride motorcycles.  But there are quite a few that don't.  I never for one minute expect that those who do not ride to understand why I do it.  Just like I hope they don't expect me to understand their addictions.  I just try my best to respect them.  All I ask is that you (non-rider friend) try to respect my decision to ride.  Maybe you think I am a complete moron.  That's okay.  I probably am.  But since when did addictions make sense?

So I spent several hours riding this weekend because the weather is amazing here in Austin, TX and I didn't want to waste it.

While I was out I found the things that annoy me the most while riding, happen pretty often.  I am going to list them here in the hopes that non-riders will understand a rider's perspective:

10. If you see us carrying a helmet, wearing a leather jacket and funky looking boots...do not ask us, "Did you ride your motorcycle?!"  I try to ignore this one because I know it's just a conversation starter or an acknowledgement of the fact that I clearly, must have ridden.  But no matter what, I always want to respond with, "Nope.  Just thought I'd wear all this crap in 100 degree heat for the heck of it.  I look pretty cool, don't I?"

9.  Do not ever...ever assume that you can sit on my bike.  In fact, don't even ask.  Unless I am familiar with your ability to ride you aren't allowed to touch the bike.  Period.  In fact, stay at least 6 feet away at all times. You're making me nervous.

8.  This is another one that I have trouble with because I know it's just a conversation/acknowledgement piece, but..."How fast does that thing go?"  while talking to a stranger in gas station parking lot is not an appropriate conversation starter.  I have never been able to respond to this question because, first off it doesn't really make sense.  If I was at a land speed race event, I could easily respond.  But on the street?  What am I supposed to say?  "Ah, she'll do 'bout one twenty headin' down thirty-five 'round about north a Georgetown..."  I just don't know how to respond concisely.

7.   This one is a little specific, but worth mentioning.  If you are on a two lane road in the middle of nowhere that has lots of hills and curves and a motorcycle comes up behind you...please for the love of god, let them pass you.  See, you might refer to 1431 as the "motion-sickness road that gets you to Marble Falls" but motorcyclist refer to it as "the fun road".  You are on that road to get to Marble Falls and eat pie.  We are on that road to be on that road.  And getting stuck behind someone who breaks at every little turn is ruining our ride.  Not to mention you're nervousness about being on that road can be dangerous for us behind you.

6.  Some motorcyclists are ass-hats.  Some are douche bags, some don't belong on a bike, some are downright dangerous.  But some are just regular folk who happen to like riding motorcycles.  Do not lump all sport bike riders into one category.  I don't ride wheelies down the interstate.  Don't assume that because I am not poking along on a big fat Harley that I must be a wild and crazy idiot out to kill myself and hurt others in the process.

5.  Don't judge my intentions.  If you have never ridden a motorcycle you don't understand how scary it can be to be around cars on the road.  Sometimes I pass people going over the speed limit because they are driving erratically and I am afraid to be near them.  Don't assume that I must be doing it because I am irresponsible.  No, I just don't trust you.  You with the 3 kids in the back and your radio blasting and your phone sitting on your lap ready to text.  I want to get as far away from you as possible.

4.  DO compliment my bike.  It's pretty.  I know it.  You know it.  Just tell me.  A quick, "that's a good-looking bike"  will get you very far with a motorcyclist.

3.  Most of us are well aware of the dangers of riding a motorcycle.  We know it's not the safest mode of travel or hobby.  We all know someone who has been hurt in a motorcycle accident.  We do not ever care to hear about whatever horror story you have about riding bikes.  If you think it dangerous and stupid that is fine.  But your story about your roommate's cousin's friend losing a leg is not going to change our minds.  It's not.  Sorry.  It's a very rare occasion when I can get through a conversation with a non-rider about motorcycles without getting to hear one of these stories.  Believe me, nothing you can say will shock me.  I have a pretty horrific story to tell myself.  And if you want to swap stories, I can go into graphic detail about what it feels like to have your leg "straightened out" and all the pain that followed.  You will not sway me.  

2.  Pay attention to what you are doing.  Most of the people I know who have been hit by cars were not hit by drunk drivers or road ragers or even people who were speeding.  THE MOST DANGEROUS PEOPLE ON THE ROAD ARE THE ONES WHO ARE JUST NOT PAYING ATTENTION.

1.  Don't hit us.  It hurts.  Trust me.

Fans: Robbers of Sleeps

Like most people I enjoy my time with friends and family but also cherish alone time.  I have a lot of alone time on my hands now since Daniel works 28 days away from home, then he gets to come home for 28 days.  It's an adjustment and I know it's not for everyone, but we have so far made it work.

Every now and then though when he is gone, my brain eats itself and I flip out.  Last night was one of those nights.

I have 2200 square feet all to myself that I only have to share with my two cats.  It's way too much house for us, but it was either this, live in a smaller home around poor people in a bad neighborhood or live in a tiny old run down house that we paid way too much for around rich people.  So big nice house in the suburbs around average people it is.

2200 square feet equates in my mind as: too much to clean and too many places for the boogie man, thieves in the night and sasquatch to hide.

Yesterday I found a small fan in the spare bedroom and decided since I've been really hot at night that I should plug that bad boy in and everything would be wonderful in my life.  I was wrong.

See I grew up in San Antonio, TX and we did not have a functioning air conditioner in our house.  I'm not sure if it worked at some point and broke or if it just never worked.  But from the age of 3 until 18, I did not have air conditioning.  So, box fans were a plenty in our house.  They were the only way to not die, really.  Most days they just blew hot air around like a giant hair dryer, but it's what we had.  Add to this that our house was not exactly in the nicest of neighborhoods and that we were on the busiest corner in that neighborhood.  During the winter, I would leave my fan on low because otherwise I would hear everything going on outside that you just didn't want to hear.  I could drown out the neighbors screaming at each other and the screeching tires of some drunk dude's car and the all the gangstas driving by too slow for this white girl's comfort with their bass thumping.   But the difference between then and now (okay one of the differences) is that I was never in that house alone.  EVER.  I wasn't allowed to be.  If my brothers weren't home, I was supposed to go to a friends until they got home.

So here I lay...all alone in my quiet suburban neighborhood home with a fan cooling me down like the old days and I was just about to drift off to sleep when something went thump in the night.   Not screeching tires or screaming neighbors...something in the house, down my stairs moved from where it was to somewhere else creating noise that I plainly heard over my fan.

After about 2 minutes I gained the courage to sit up, turn on the light and put on my glasses in order to sit in my bed and stare at my door.  After about 15 minutes of that I got the nerve to get up and walk downstairs.  I found the culprit (a cup that I had set upside down aside the sink to dry out had fallen into the sink) grabbed some water, looked in all the closets and went back upstairs.  Where I sat for another hour convinced that I was hearing things.  Three times I leaned over to place my glasses on the nightstand and all three times I was convinced something was coming after me at that exact moment.  I was getting on my own nerves.  So after that hour I figured I'd read.  So I read.  Then I decided to watch some Cheers on Netflix. So I watched two episodes.   Last time I looked at the clock it was 3:15.  I woke up this morning with my glasses still on my face and the light still on.  At least I fell asleep?

I blame this whole ordeal on that damn fan.  I decided tonight to leave that fan off in hopes of getting some sleep.  I may be sweating all night, but at least I'll be asleep for it.

SallieMae...Die bitch! DIE!

I cannot in words properly express the hatred I have in my heart for SallieMae. Even if I tried, I'm pretty sure a kitten would die of all the horrible words being put in writing, so I'll refrain. Just know...I despise Sallie effing Mae (forthwith will be referred to as "Satan").

3 years ago, my husband Daniel picked me up from work and he had clearly gone to Half Price Books right before. I asked him what all these books were and his words were, "I think I know what I want to do for the rest of my life." I was blown away. My husband has a hard time deciding on clothes, so this came as a shock to me. Many of you know what he wanted to do was become a pilot. I was so excited and we soon turned our lives upside down to accomplish this. It was so exciting! We sold our house, a car, a motorcycle and bunch of other crap and did a whole bunch of other stuff to prepare for this new adventure. Including....getting a student loan from Satan. Satan has a way of making you feel like you are the worst human being on the planet. I had been busting my ass to pay off debt and get our credit scores up high and silly ol' me thought that would matter to Satan. Satan didn't give a shit about my 780 credit score or my giant chunk of money in savings from selling our house. No...to Satan I was a dirt poor moron who had never paid a bill in my life and needed to be treated like a homeless red-headed orphan.

But...Daniel had a dream and now my dream was to make his dream happen...even if it meant selling my soul to...well, you know.

I actually spent nights crying in the closet over the way Satan treated me. I refused to ask anyone to co-sign on this loan (our families had helped us in so many ways already) so it was up to me and my pure determination to get this friggin loan. Well after months we finally got the damn loan. Hooray.

Now that I had the loan...I had to actually deal with Satan regularly. I won't go into the details, but at one point I was on the phone with customer service literally jumping up and down screaming to talk to a supervisor. It was a high point in my life, for sure.

Fast forward to last fall. Daniel got a new job (not in the airline industry since it's the wrong time to try) and he started making a little bit more money. I was determined to get Satan off my back as soon as I can. I started to hash out the finances and feverishly working on a spreadsheet to make it make sense. Then....one December day I had it. The plan to get Satan out of my life as soon as humanly possible.

The plan: All of Heather's paycheck gets put aside to pay Satan off in 2 years or less. Plus 1/3 of any extra money (tax return, overtime, drug sales, etc). Daniel has always trusted me to take care of the finances (because I am a mad scientist with money) but when he heard the plan and how much money it would save us in interest (I could show him on my handy spreadsheet), he actually had an expression on his face I had never seen before. Shock. My husband...the stone faced man...shocked. WIN.

So, since January I have put $13,679 toward paying Satan off. I made a lump payment of $10K today and I laughed maniacally. Satan has no hold over me!

That amount actually puts me minimum of 2 months ahead of schedule. I still have about $30K left to pay but it's dropping fast.

I will tell you now...paying off debt is addictive. Once you get started and you see those balances fall you want to dance around and laugh in the face of the gods of credit, who just so happen to be working for Satan.

A great blog I've been reading lately: http://manvsdebt.com/

A very informative infograph he posted that fueled my fire against Satan: http://manvsdebt.com/why-student-loans-suck/

Check it out follow him if you are serious about getting out of debt. Hell, if you are serious about it, talk to me. I am stupidly passionate about it and would love to help SERIOUS debt slayers out. It's a commitment that is well worth the effort. Trust me.

Transparency

I'm starting a blog. Yes, I am about 10 years late on this bandwagon. I'm okay with it.

Everyone who knows me knows that I am a very open book about most things. There's probably very little about me that most of you don't already know. I do try to keep the majorly negative things off Facebook because I don't want to be a huge Debbie Downer. Plus I am sure there are those who have far bigger problems than me and I don't want to seem like a big baby (but I totally am).

So guess where all the negative and too wordy for Facebook crap is gonna go? Right cheer.

I will tell you right now I am thus far having a fantastic year (knocks on wood). 2009 and 2010 kicked my ass and I am still in recovery from the physical pain 2009 caused and the emotional pain 2010 caused. Of course, according to certain people (one ass hole of a cop in New Braunfels to name one) believe that these instances were my own damn fault. And every day I struggle with the idea that they might be right. Maybe someday we'll get into that, but not today.

Also those who know me well know that I get new ideas for hobbies or interests regularly and I get really excited about it for one hot minute then I get bored and move on. I do have a few interests that I can't shake (motorcycles and paying bills [no really]) and I will more than likely talk about those things a lot.

My biggest interest is myself. I'm not kidding. I am fully aware of the fact that I am completely self-absorbed. I don't really have a terribly interesting life, but I find it absolutely fascinating!

My second biggest interest is my husband. I actually try to force myself to wait at least two sentences after meeting someone new before I start talking about Daniel. I don't typically last that long.

So anyway...all that rambling to say that this is my place to whine about how my leg hurts and how much I love my motorcycle and how much I paid toward my student loans and how awesome my husband is, etc.

First non-introductory post to follow. Probably tonight.