Nobody’s Perfect, but You’re Perfect for Me

The other day I was lying in bed with GCB, and out of the blue he said to me, “How come you don’t blog anymore? You used to write about how awesome I was all the time!”

So this is for him.

Reasons my boyfriend is awesome.

1. He’s such a jock. The past few weeks his summer hockey league has been in the playoffs. Last week his game was at 10pm, and he was SO amped after the game (they won) that he couldn’t get to sleep until after 2am. He left yesterday for a vacation while his team was playing for the championship last night which made him nearly delay his flight out so he could play. I totally understand the competitive spirit he has, that desire to actually be out there and play, and I think it’s awesome. It means that he gets me when I’m irritated with my own performance in a race or with a run in general. It means that he’s willing to come out with me and be active (see: Tap’n’Run). It means that he encourages me when I’m struggling to find the motivation to get my ass out the door.

2. He’s also a monstrous nerd. Let’s be honest. I’m a super-nerd. I wear my nerd flag as a cape, rather than choosing to fly it sporadically. I recognize this. He is just as nerdy. This is all made evident by all sorts of things. References to Harry Potter in every day conversation, his level of excitement over a Lego Batman Playstation game, and the fact that his trip to Orlando was specifically in order to attend Star Wars Celebration VI. Apparently I am lucky that he still loves me even with the “large number of passable Slave Leia’s in metal bikinis.” According to Ali and Alison, his jock-dom does not cancel out just how nerdy this makes him, but it makes me feel like my jock-nerd-hybrid lifestyle is comparatively complemented. I like that.

3. He’s family oriented. His sister had a baby girl a couple weeks ago (another A. Marie in the world!!), and we were lucky enough to be able to go over to their house, cook them dinner, and just hang out with their family. He was entirely excited at this prospect. I absolutely melted watching him hold that tiny newborn, and the absolutely love-struck look he gave me as his niece grabbed ahold of his shirt dissolved me into goo. Not only is he willing to do anything for his family, but he’s been such a big hit with mine. My three year old cousin just absolutely adores him, and even asked to snuggle with GCB instead of my aunt when he was ready to take a nap. He sat down and talked with my grandfather for nearly an hour. He made sure to get out of work so he could see my mom while she was in town. And to top it all off, when I tossed out the idea of having two of my cousins come up to the city and play with us all day, he was all about it, suggesting different things that we could do with them. I get to take him out to Arizona in two months to meet even more of my extended family, and I could not be more excited about it.

4. The fact that he brought me a banana and nutella calzone the other day. It was so good I nearly passed out from deliciousness.

5. He and I see eye to eye on both politics and religion. I know that there are plenty of people who are able to overcome opinion differences in these two areas, but the fact that I don’t have to worry about it is entirely awesome.

6. He entertains me. The other day we were trying to figure out what to do for dinner. I suggested that we attempt to recreate a dish from Cheese-ology using just our imaginations. He didn’t hesitate to say yes, and then played me in a best-two-out-of-three game of rock/paper/scissors to figure out which dish to choose to duplicate.

7. He just is. He makes me feel desired and beautiful and smart and funny all at once. He’s hilarious and keeps me laughing on a regular basis. He’s an unwavering support system. He just FITS.

I love you, baby. Come home to me safely.

When I Wake Up Tomorrow Will You Still Be Here?

Before you start asking questions, everything is better than fine with GCB. Trust me.

That said, I am coming up on a time in my relationship that is figuring very prominently in my brain.
Three months.
In many regards three months is a relatively inconsequential time frame. One quarter of the year. One season, if traditional seasonal explanations are to be believed. It passes so quickly that at times it’s hard to believe that twelve weeks of a year have just melted away.
Three months is how long I have dated nearly any guy over the course of the last near-decade. Three months is how long it took for them to go, “Um, yeah….nevermind. See ya.” That’s quite the confidence killer, by the way.
Make no mistake about it. My relationship is not ending. Conversations I have had with GCB indicate we’ve got quite a long relationship ahead of us, and I couldn’t be happier about that. Seriously. I think some of my friends are getting weary of hearing me reference that.
It’s not that I am worried, just….cognizant of the time frame.
That must seem absolutely crazy.
Past history makes me aware of this, for lack of a better word, milestone. However, the feelings I have for GCB are palpable. Sometimes my breath is taken away by certain reminders of just how much I love him, and those feelings become stronger every single day.
So why is this weighing on me? I think it in part has to do with a conversation he and I had a while back, wherein he was detailing some things about his job that I know had an outward effect on me. My exterior showed just a slight glimpse of the turmoil inside as I processed tried to process everything I was hearing. However, there was one thing that I knew, KNEW in those moments that kind of terrifies me.
I will not be ok if he does not come home to me.
Perhaps that’s part of why this three month thing is there. Three months has been this glass ceiling, if you will, a time frame I’ve been incapable of surpassing in close to a third of my life. I have no doubt, however, that this time there won’t be resistance. Hell, I’m not even worried about getting past three years. I know he will choose to come home to me.
I know it’s odd to even think about, but I still just want to get past that mark and carry on.

Power of Love

Ok, I’ll be honest. The title has NOTHING to do with anything, except for the fact that the stupid fucking song is in my head. I blame GCB, as this morning he made reference to the fact that I was his lady. OBVIOUSLY I went ahead and started singing at him….that’s right, Celine Dion before 7am…..and NOW the fucking song is STILL STUCK IN MY GODDAMNED HEAD.

Good thing he’s cute.

This picture makes me smile like an idiot

Today is supposed to be Wordless Wednesday. Right now, I am anything but wordless. Not for any bad reason or anything like that. I’m just FULL OF THOUGHTS.

Honestly, I’m always full of thoughts, but some of those are so random, so prime for making you all think I am a lunatic, that I usually keep most of those to myself. Not today.

Random jibberish commencing.

First of all, there’s this:

Awesome, right? My friend Andy has been creating these Faceless Facebook designs, and this is the one he did of me. It’s coming from this picture: 

I absolutely love it. Seriously. He blows me away on a regular basis with his talent.
Not too long ago, my friend Sarah (who works for the Girl Scouts) offered me a chance to get cookies for $1.50 a box. I got ten boxes of Thin Mints. They’re almost gone. Today is the rungriest day I’ve had in a while, and I am working my way through killing the last sleeve of them I have here. My boss thought it was a great idea to tell me that lean proteins would probably be better for me than the sugar. I had to hold myself back from stabbing him in the throat. Maybe it’s that lately my patience at work has been minimal, but for some reason this just bugs me. Like dude? I’m an athlete. I fucking KNOW that protein would be better for me. I also know that if I ate my lunch now, I would be STARVING by the time I got home, and I have a six mile run on my agenda. Being that hungry with that kind of run ahead never ends well. I also know that one sleeve of Thin Mints is not going to kill me. I ALSO know that I’m in better shape than any single person in my group, so I’m pretty sure I’m o-fucking-kay with this decision. Why this is grating on me, I’m not sure, but I’m all bristly about it. Maybe it’s the implication that I don’t fucking know what I’m doing. Because I guarantee you, I fucking know what I’m doing. That statement applies to work too. I’m trying really hard to not rant about work right now. It is difficult not to. Whatever.
Happier topic. This week I got my flight booked to go out to Portland to see my dad’s side of the family. I am pretty pumped. Granted, I don’t have my flight back yet (still waiting for prices to drop), so that could get entertaining. Not only will I get to see a good chunk of my family (immediate AND extended), but I am taking twelve days off work. TWELVE. I am REALLY looking forward to it.
And then there’s this whole Ann’s running a LOOOOOONG way in like a week. Guess who just took five days off from working out? This girl. Guess who’s just SO burnt out that she’s looking forward to the END of Ragnar? This girl. I am really excited about this race, truly, but at this point I cannot physically improve anymore. I cannot get into my own head about failure, because it’s not an option. I cannot do anything but push myself to the limits and beyond, experience the whole race, and then come home for a pedicure that finally WON’T get jacked up and a few days of doing absolutely nothing while staying guilt-free. I realized yesterday talking to GCB that I have been in training mode since last AUGUST. I need a fucking break. But until then?
Impossible is nothing
My motivation is gone today.
The end.

L is for the Way You Look at Me

Fuck it. I don’t even care that it’s hardly been any time at all.

I am so insanely in love with the boyfriend on every single possible level. I want to will be with him forever.

I have never been so sure of anything or anyone in my entire life.

He is absolutely perfect for me. There is nothing I’ve found that isn’t more fun when he’s there.

Every single day he gives me more reasons to fall further in love with him.

Hesitation, fear, concern, doubt, apprehension, all of those emotions that have always been so prevalent with anyone else are completely nonexistent.

Am I crazy for this? Is it ridiculous to have thoughts like these so soon?


And I don’t care.

I love him. Full stop.

/super girly post

Panic Prone

I am fuh-REAK-ing the fuck out.

Ragnar is five weeks from today. Five weeks. Thirty-five days. I….holy shit.

I pulled up my training schedule today to adjust for the last week of being sick and out of town, switched over to the May calendar, and got a whopping dose of HOLYFUCKINGSHITI’MRUNNINGEIGHTEENMILESINFIVEWEEKS.

Holy fucking shit, I’m running 18 miles in five weeks.

I’m not ready.

Getting sick two weeks after the half marathon has meant that my workout regiment since the half has been, well, more a passing interest than a regiment. This was not my intention at all.

Logically I KNOW that I will be fine. I know that I am in good enough shape to get through.

But I don’t want to be just good enough. I want to have splits that I can be proud of. I want to make our team faster. I want to get through this race and be sore in the best way possible.

I want to absolutely crush my training for the next month.

When I looked at my just barely filled out May running schedule and realized I was supposed to run 10 miles in a few days, I had another freak out moment.

I’m meeting GCB’s parents on Sunday. There is Sunday Night Dinner on Sunday. There is not time for a 10 mile run. Maybe four, but not ten.

So, let’s sum up.

I am freaking out about the biggest race of my life thus far, even though logically I know I’ll be ok, but I know I have to kick ass this month.

I am freaking out about the meeting the parents of the perfect boyfriend because I have not “met the parents” in a DECADE. Even then, the high school boyfriend was a friend first, so I technically already knew his parents. Though I suppose there was the one guy with whom my first date was a trip to the Fox Theater WITH his parents, but I don’t count that so much. I am told, “he likes you, they’ll like you.”


I need a nap.

This post was brought to you by a severe lack of sleep, a minor instance of lack of self-confidence, and probably not enough (possibly too much) caffeine.

I Don’t Wanna Come Back Down From This Cloud

Here has been my M.O. over the last few weeks.

1. Open mouth.

2. Vomit sunshine and happiness.

3. Repeat a nauseatingly high number of times every single day.

It feels like I am walking through a dream, like there’s no possible way that this can all be real. And yet it is.

There are things that show me this is real. Really real. All of it. There are the text messages that make me smile to the point where my coworker has begun calling me out on them. There are the memories of certain events that give me such a monstrous swoop in my stomach that I stutter step walking down the hall at work (yes, this actually happened this morning).

There’s being curled up in his arms, having the words “I’m crazy about you” whispered in my ear. *swoon*

Then there’s being asked by one of my close friends, “What, are you going to marry this guy?” and having my response be “Um, I don’t know,” which miiiiight have nearly made that friend fall out of their chair since it wasn’t an emphatic “Fuck you” or “Hell to the no.”

There’s the hoping beyond hope that this feeling never goes away.

I recognize that there are bound to be rough times, but this feeling right here makes it so that I’m not even worried about it. If those hard times come around, they come around, and we’ll deal with them then.

But for now? It’s….well, it’s just fucking fantastic.

I Know I Should Be Home

I was in Chicago this past weekend. There will be pictures to show you all once I get them on my computer, but for now I’ve got to tell you all something that rattled me.

It rattled me because I never thought I’d say it.

For the first time ever, I was excited to get back to St Louis rather than wishing I could stay in Chicago.

Um, what?

I feel like all I’ve been saying lately is “What the fuck?”

Semi-relatedly, last night was GCB’s first appearance at Sunday Night Dinners.

My Universe Will Never be the Same

I’ve become that obnoxiously happy, ridiculously optimistic, swoony swoon face girlfriends that used to drive me up the fucking wall.

I would always think “there’s no WAY she can be THAT happy.”

Well, as I’ve learned/been reminded/been beaten over the head with, it IS possible to be that fucking happy.

I know, again, who the fuck AM I?

I swear my snark is still there, and I was caught as much off guard with this as you people.

Seriously, that fucker came out of nowhere.


So many things have just fallen right into place.

I know I keep saying this, but things are just so motherfucking awesome lately, I can hardly believe it’s all real.