changes...

I'm depressed. It's a good thing. It means I'm one lap closer to the finish line of accepting the fact that I'm moving away from my best friends, my fiance, and beautiful Santa Barbara. I've finally moved away from the denial of this fact, and into the depression of existing in these last few moments in town. (Isn't there a science for this? I feel like there's 12 steps or something to help me better handle this...maybe that's for some other illness....I don't remember) To top it all off, I can't find my journal or my Bible. I'm pretty sure they're packed up in the abyss of my Honda Civic (which by the way, holds an impressive amount of wares!). So here's both my apology and warning, my little bloggy is taking the hit that my journal may have usually absorbed. Cheers to emotions, feelings, and getting it all out on paper, so to speak.

I've lived in Santa Barbara for the last six years. Believe me, I've talked a LOT of smack about this place in those years. I've complained about the constant sunshine, the omnipresence of beach sand during the summer months, ludicrous cover charges downtown during Fiesta (ridiculous!), and a multitude of other things. But when I really get down to my true feelings for this city, I realize my complaints were just a front for what I really feel about this place. I'd like to think I can have my cake and eat it too... I've got a fierce pride for the state of Colorado (Go Buffs!), and I can still be in love with Santa Barbara at the same time. Let me be clear, some of my complaints about this city are LEGIT. To name a few: I lived in a house for three years with rats the size of small cats (MADRONA: a kitchen cabinet that smelled like urine, a bee-hive outside of my window, a hole in the floor of my room, a window that wouldn't shut, and a kitchen sink that sounded like an earthquake every-time it was used), I've been way too close in proximity to out of control wild-fires, and seriously, cover prices during Fiesta are truly silly. But really, I love Santa Barbara. I love the weather, I love the people, the uniqueness of the climate, the beauty of life in the plant world (plant classification: BEST CLASS EVER), and I love the friends I've made here. God has been good to me in this city.

I never thought I'd live in California, I never thought I'd go to Westmont, and I NEVER thought I'd stay in Santa Barbara after I'd graduated. But God's pretty tricky that way, and here I am six years later not wanting to leave. Plus, when I received an opportunity to go and live at casa Madrona with Maddie, the answer was an obvious YES. Going to college here was pretty snazzy, but when I look back at Westmont I am mostly grateful for the friendships I was blessed with while I was at school. Shoutout to the older and wiser mentors in my life who said I would make my best friends at college. I'm not talking "best friends" like high-school buddies, I'm talking about best friends who are lifelong partners in crime; the kind of friend you call in the middle of the night because you're in a crisis; the kind of friend you video chat with in the same room; the kind of friend who will always download the music I want and then email it to me; and the kind of friend who will stick by your side through thick and thin, not judging you for certain events that may or may not have happened at Q's.

I've already had to deal with a few of my best friends moving out of town, curses to you nursing school! But when it comes to the longevity of my friendships here in Santa Barbara, one Madeline Madison "insert any word here for middle name" Jacks takes the cake.

Without releasing too many of my emotions into cyberspace (and also because of the fact that Maddie's already had a healthy dose of it in my going away letter that was riddled with ridiculousness), suffice it to say that one of the hardest reasons for me to leave Santa Barbara was because I would also be leaving my bestie Madison. I realized a few days before I left SB, that for the past four years of my life, I've pretty much seen Maddie everyday. Breakdown moment #1: I wasn't sure if I actually knew how to function without her!

I know that I probably took advantage of my friendship with Maddie, and just how wonderful and amazing she is. After I've been in CO for a couple of weeks, I've had even more time to realize what a pleasure it was to live with a best friend. Maddie, you've seen me at my worst, my ugliest, in the hardest and saddest times of my life...and you've supported me through it all. You've also been a huge part of the best times of my life, some of my happiest and most meaningful. It has been such a blessing to have you in my life. Because you're funny. And you make amazing playlists. And you are always cooking interesting things. You share your clothes with me. You share amazing stories about your office. You know all the shortcuts in Santa Barbara. You have all-time access to blueberries. And the list goes on and on....

I LOVE MADDIE!

QUOTE: sarah c sheets

Who Knew?

I mean really, who knew that registering for wedding gifts was going to be such a challenge? I mean, it's AWESOME, but it's hard! Even though we're still in the middle of the process, I feel as if I have a few little nuggets of wisdom to share. Of course I'm in a position to do this, I'm probably the smartest, most awesome, and most wise newly engaged person on the planet.

Objective: Find places to register

Our Approach: Hey! Crate and Barrel will give us free breakfast if we register there!

The Correct Approach: Perhaps decide on two or three locations where you want to get gifts from, based off of their products, not their incentives. Although I'll admit, Crate and Barrel was a winner for us. Not only did we get free breakfast, but we got the store to ourselves (with other engaged couples), lots of time with the scan gun, (the BRIDAL GUN as they call it!), and some free ridiculous heart shaped champagne flutes. If that doesn't say true love, well then, I'm just not sure what does.

Objective: Outfit your kitchen and home with niceties.

Our Approach: Zero thought, discussion, or research into styles, level of quality, etc.

The Correct Approach: The correct approach would probably be anything but what we did. I would recommend at least a little bit of research. Even the tinniest, wee bit of looking up ideas would be helpful. Thankfully, most locations where you register will give you lists, so you're not completely in the dark as you wanted around with the bridal gun. You'd think this would be helpful right? WRONG. Completely overwhelming. An asparagus steamer? Really Crate and Barrel, really? A trifle dish?!? What is that? I was so thankful to be able to at least check of one item. Toasting Flutes. Yes, we're set on that one. We have these lovely, heart shaped flutes....

Objective: Register with speed and thoughtfulness.

Our Approach: Speed? We don't even know where to begin here!

The Correct Approach: You must allot yourself a generous amount of time here. I mean, generous. Tim and I went to Bed, Bath, and Beyond (which, by the way, has a completely inordinate amount of items. I mean, Tim and I were staring at a wall of pizza cutters. Seriously, how different can they all be?). Anyway, Tim and I went to Triple B at 7. They close at 9:30. We've got lots of time right? Again, WRONG. Our wedding coordinator, Isaac, took about an hour of our time, showing us pictures of some really ugly dishes and stemware. The only fun part of this was when he demonstrated the strength of a porcelain teacup by SMASHING it against the desk. It did not break for those curious. After we finally straightened out the spelling of Timothy, (yes Isaac, it does have two T's....) we were off with the bridal gun, which weighs in at about 5 lbs. And I was wondering why my arm was sore this morning..... Needless to say, we ended up scanning evereything we could find the last ten minutes, because we had barely made it out of the toaster section of the store; because yes, there is a toaster section. It's these types of decisions that you'd think would be easy to make, but then all of the sudden, you're standing in front of five toasters, and you are suddenly struck with a bout of indecision. Do you make a decision based on price? Toasting ability? Number of toast slots? Stainless Silver or Plastic? Brushed or shiny silver? DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING? This whole process is stressful.

Whatever.

We still have one place to register...Pottery Barn. I'm hoping that by the time we make it there, we're going to have this whole process down to a tee. I mean, they're classy at that store. The last thing I want is a ten minute deadline with Tim yelling "Scan! Scan! Scan!" while I frantically look for barcodes and SKU's.

I'm thinking about making a bridal gun/taser combo. That way, the taser part can be used to whip people into shape, force out decisions, and stun Isaac into silence...(and if he's lucky, improve his spelling!)

I found my wedding dress!

I really love it because it has that perfect combination of Sarcophagus/English Wig/Coif look that I was really going for. Talk about a great find. It's couture. Now...I just need to find matching bridesmaid dresses!

2010.......

So. My new year was anticlimactic as always (besides the fact that I had the traditional surf-n-turf dinner with my family, which is AWESOME). We of course partook in the, oh-so-exciting 60 second count-down, getting particularly excited at the ten second mark. then...3.....2.....1........! Oh hey 2010, you feel just like 2009.

FALSE!

2010 felt the same for about 15 hours, after which, things were drastically different. Because....yes.....I'm ENGAGED!!!!

I HAVE ENGAGEMENT

TIM ENGAGED ME

I'M BETROTHED

I HAVE UPCOMING NUPTIALS

I'M TO BE WED

HE PROPOSED

HUZZAH

HUZZAH

HUZZAH!

The sneakster took me completely by surprise and proposed to me on January 1. We were on a hike in Boulder, (a snow hike, a slippery hike, and a cold hike). Mid hike, I stopped to catch my breath and turned around. Because my hands were freezing, I put them in his pockets to warm them up.

BAM

The ring was in there.

I didn't feel it, but Tim kind of unceremoniously ripped my hand out of his pocket, which was a very strange gesture in my eyes. A few seconds later, he dropped to his knee in the snow...and proposed.

The rest is history folks. And no, I won't give you more details. Some things you just keep private. Bahahahahahaha

Post engagement, we went to his house in Boulder where my whole family had come up to celebrate with us! Viki made a delicious feast, and we had the COOLEST cake ever from Whole Foods! Deeeeeelish.

I couldn't be happier, or more blessed. I keep having trouble falling asleep because of how lucky I am. I'm insanely excited to spend the rest of my life with TIMOTHY WILLIAM ERICKSON!

Details to Follow! :)

5, 6, 7, 8, 9!!

9 Ladies Dancing! 8 maids a-milking.
7 swans a-swimming! Synchronized, of course.
Six geese a laying (by the ocean, not laying eggs)...do geese even lay eggs? Yes I know they lay golden eggs, but normal ones?
5 gooooooolden rings! (ding dong ding dong ding)

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to meeee...

4 calling birds. Whom...may I ask....are they calling? My best guess is probably the three french hens. Yes, it's an international call, but still.

Speaking of hens. Did you know at Disneyland, they have the Turkey that has the Presidential Pardon at Thanksgiving? I know that turkey's aren't the same as hens...but they're both poultry. Ok, so every year the president pardon's 1 turkey at Thanksgiving to be spared from the knife, the oven, and ultimately, the acidity of the stomach. This one special turkey then gets to hang out at Disneyland all year. Awesome. Here's my question...what happens to the turkey when the year is over, and a new "pardoned" turkey gets to take his place? I bet the old one gets killed and eaten for Thanksgiving! It's all a ruse! So instead of being the one lucky turkey who's life was graciously spared by the leader of our country (which, by the way is a very random tradition), he ends up being the turkey that lives for a year with the knowledge that he is going to die. He probably scratches a countdown in his little turkey coup. If there's ONE way that Disneyland wouldn't be fun, it would be because you're stuck on display and are on a countdown to death. Poor turkey.

Thrrrreeeeeeeee French Hens

Why French? Why not American? I mean, the song is sung in English....not French. I'm just saying...