When it comes to my taste in books, it’s either Harry Potter, LOTR-type fantastical or super girly, super cheesy “chick-lit” (as in chick literature…clever, right?). There really is no in between.
So, when I went to the library yesterday and found myself in the love story section, I had to stop for a look around. Then I came across an author I really like, Sophie Kinsella, and discovered one of her books that I’ve never read, I’ve Got Your Number, and I had to get it. It’s about as cheesy a love story as they come, so it’s perfect.
Welp, today is my 26th birthday. I have to face the fact that I am no longer in my early 20’s. I guess age is just a number, really, so I shouldn’t be worried about it. I always feel a bit better when older people tell me “oh, you’re still just a baby!” or “man, to be 26 again…” I’m usually not a fan of comments like that, but they keep me young in this case.
Tate and I spent the weekend at his aunt’s beach house. My brother, sister-in-law, niece and nephew spent the day with us there yesterday. It was a good day. I actually got in the water and swam! That’s not usually my cup of tea, but like Tate says, Beach Hillary is more adventurous than Regular Hillary.
Tate tried to buy me a surprise gift that I would get when we got home, but he bought it through Amazon not realizing I had set up text notifications. I don’t know when I did that or why I would set them up for his account instead of mine, but it happened. I got the first text message on Saturday.
When I saw it pop up on my phone I thought it was a mistake. I was like, “wait, I didn’t buy the box set of Harry Po-ohhhhh! Birthday present!!” Poor Tate can’t win when it comes to surprising me with gifts. I tend to find out what they are before I get them. Sometimes accidentally. Usually on purpose because I’m terrible. Either way, I am now halfway through Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. This will make around the 10th time I’ve read the series, but I am so pumped to read them all again!
Tate had a soccer game tonight. He plays for a local B league on Thursday nights. Sometimes I attend them and other times I can’t or don’t. Today was the latter. I fell asleep almost immediately when I got home, so instead of fighting with me to wake me up, he just went on alone.
This post is in response to the writing prompt, Snapshot Stories, from The Daily Post. The prompt says to open one of your photo albums and tell the story of the first picture you find of yourself. Luckily, the first picture in my album isn’t a horrible one.
Tate and I have very different backgrounds. Growing up, his mother was (and still is) very religious. His dad is a Christian, but he doesn’t talk about it much. Because of his mom, religion was a big part of his childhood. When he ended up at the Christian private school where we met, the rules in school weren’t so different from the rules at home.
My parents were a little bit different. My mom is somewhat of a hippie and my dad is a Southern Baptist. Their story is very long, though, so I’ll just stick with mine. My household wasn’t very religious growing up. I knew that my uncle’s talked about the Bible a lot when discussing women, and that they preached the most when they were drunk, but that was all my dad’s family. My mom and her family didn’t discuss religion very much.
I really wanted to write this and publish it on Sunday, but my days got away from me and then I just got lazy. Also, I tried to add a couple of pictures, but for some reason I could not. It’s okay, though, because I was so shaky from the cold that they were totally blurry. Just imagine a bunch of hot soccer players lined up and you’ve got it. Anyway, here it is!
If you read my last post, you will know that I was going to a soccer (or football, for the rest of the world) game on Saturday. I am happy to announce that I actually did go through with it, and that it actually wasn’t quite as bad as I had thought it was going to be. Shocking, right?
The other day I was informed by Tate that this Saturday our city’s new soccer team would play their very first home game. Tate is a huge soccer fan, and I know how excited he is about the fact that he finally has a local team to cheer for, but I am not so zealous. When he asked me if I wanted to go, I gave a very non-committal “ehh…” He responded with, “don’t you want to witness history?”
I’m going to be honest here; I am not good at finding the best in myself. Because of that, it is hard to praise myself for anything. Again, Tate has helped me quite a lot in this respect because he not only tells me every day what he loves about me, but he is also so confident in himself that it is infectious. So, when I told him about these two posts, I asked him what he thought I brought to the relationship that makes it better. If I were to answer that, I would say that I have taught Tate how to empathize. He has never been mean or hurtful, but when I first met him he did struggle with putting himself in other’s shoes. Now, that is the first thing that he does when thinking of others.
One of the reasons that I love Tate so much (there are many), is his sense of humor and how laid back he is. He turns everything into a joke and doesn’t stress about anything. This isn’t a bad thing, though. Some people who turn everything into a joke or brush things off don’t accomplish anything. The reason they turn it into a joke is so that people will stop bothering them already and let them off the hook. Not Tate. He gets things done, he just doesn’t freak out when things don’t go his way. Instead, he finds another way. I’ve learned a lot from him.
I am currently doing the Blogging 101 course through The Daily Post and today’s assignment is to identify my dream audience. This is difficult for me because I’ve never really thought about who my dream audience is. I guess I would have to say that my target audience would be anyone who is just starting out, whether alone or with someone else, but especially couples who are in serious relationships.
I never ever want to assume that Tate and I are an example of a perfect relationship, because I know that those don’t exist. He and I have our fair share of problems, but I think what sets us apart from most is how we handle those problems.
Justin died on Sunday, March 21, 2010. I will never forget that day. Tate and I were at my mom’s house with a few friends trying to keep our minds off of him in the hospital. I remember sitting on the couch with Tate and looking up at him to ask when we were going to go back to the hospital. When he said he didn’t think we should, I got irrationally angry. “You’ve given up! How can you give up?!” I cried. Now I know that Justin’s fathers voice was ringing in his ears; “That’s not my son…” I feel terrible for how I reacted now, but when you are grieving you can do and say things you shouldn’t sometimes. Read more
Today is a sad day for me and Tate. It would be one of our best friend’s 26th birthday. This March will mark five years from when our friend was taken from us. These posts are about Justin.
I view my life in two sections now: before Justin and after Justin. Before Justin I was pretty much a normal person. I dealt with anxiety, depression and mood swings occasionally, but other than that I was happy. After Justin, however, everything changed.
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