August 31st, 2010 by Kateastrophe

Six years and 24 days ago I moved to Phoenix in the middle of the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad summer heat.  I packed everything I had into my little Corolla S and a small Uhaul.  I put in a mix CD of songs about “Breaking Away” and “Changing Lives” and made my way down the freeway, following love and a new job.  I cried because I was leaving home and scared that nothing was going to work out and I’d be stuck in Phoenix with nothing.

Lucky for me both the new job and the love worked out in a big way.

Matt and I were married ten months after the move.  He is my heart and soul and even though there are moments I miss my home town, being near him IS home.

The job I kept until a year ago today and I still miss it.  I think I truly grew up there.  I got my first big promotion, my first real title, went on my first business trip, earned the trust and respect of big important people and got my first huge, eye-popping raise at Vcommerce.  I made friends I’ll never forget, saw things that changed my life and learned things that have made me a much better person.  Walking out the door was one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve ever done.

However.

This year has given me a lot of new experiences and most importantly, new perspective.  Some crazy (CRAZY!) things happened recently that made me realize that being let go was probably the best “accident” of my life.  Not being at that company or affiliated with some of the people there right now is a really, really, REALLY good thing.  My new job isn’t “ideal” but it’s wonderful.  It’s low stress, secure and the people here are awesome.  I’m learning a lot about a new industry.  Every day it seems new opportunities, some a little more up my ideal career alley, are forming for me.  My expertise and input are valued and utilized here.  Plus, I’ve got a kick-a Assistant Vice-President title that comes with officer level stock match.  It’s awesome. 

This job also helped me make some personal decisions that I don’t think I would have made at the last job.  The baby we lost wasn’t planned but when I was pregnant I realized that if it’s something I choose to do, I can do this job and be a good mom.  I don’t know if I could have balanced things as well at the old job.  Now I feel a lot more comfortable with the possibility of (gulp) having a baby (shh don’t tell).  I have more time to try to be a good wife, sister, friend, chef, exercise junkie, house cleaner (ha! yeah right) or whatever I want to do after work.  I’ve read more books and I’ve spent more time getting to know wonderful friends from church and the neighborhood.  I might even have time to start teaching voice lessons and put that Musical Theatre degree to use!

Needless to say, this job has been a really good thing for me. 

So, as is always the (cliche) story with my life - anyone’s life, really - years later I can look back at the things which, at the time, seemed like the end of the world and realize that they were truly for the best.  Sometimes I look back and feel lucky to have been lead to where I am.  Sometimes I look back and am proud of the decisions I made to get to this place.  Sometimes I laugh at the follies that landed me here.  No matter how I look back at it, I have zero regrets. 

I love my family.  I love my friends.  I love my home.  I love my job.  I LOVE my life.

I can’t wait to see what happens the next 2,214 days.

August 24th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

My hottie-patotie of a husband turns 35 today.  It’s so strange to say that number because growing up, someone who was 35 was old and established and . . . old.  Now I look at Matt and he’s far from old.  One could probably call him established considering we own a house and have these weird career thingies and we almost had a baby and all that stuff.  But old?  Nah.  Just look at that face.

I remember the day I met Matt.  He was with his younger brother Taylor and at first glance I really thought that Taylor was the older of the two.  Matt was 28 at the time and I swore he was 23 or 24.  Matt has this gorgeous baby face that tricks everyone that way.  Plus he still had (and has!) all his hair.  Going to school at BYU where it wasn’t uncommon to find tons of 21 year old balding men, this in an of itself is impressive.  No one believes me when I tell them how old he really is.  In fact, he’s older than most of my close friends husbands which is even weirder considering some of them have 4 kids.  It just throws everybody off.  Anyway, the point of this long, rambling paragraph is that Matt doesn’t look his age.  At all.

In some ways Matt doesn’t act his age either.  His favorite outfit is a pair of Dickies shorts and a Cotton/Poly (MUST have polyester so it doesn’t wrinkle) button up PLAID shirt.  He accessorizes with flip-flops and a hat, usually of the Hurley variety.  Unlike many men I know, he thinks that getting tools as presents is just a way of asking him to do more work.  He wants toys.  4-wheelers, a RZR, accessories for the 4-wheelers or the Jeep . . . anything along those lines or something in the technology family.  We’re getting to the point where there’s not much left to buy him because he has ALL OF IT.  LCD TV, Blu-Ray, Surround sound, fancy computer and monitors, Xbox and accessories, iPod, extra TVs for the man-cave and his recent birthday gift of an iPad (which has caused him to stop sleeping because he MUST.PLAY.ALL.NIGHT!) has completed the technology takeover. I’m not sure there’s anything left to get him.  Next year for his birthday he’s getting socks.

Despite his being difficult to buy for, in everything else he is a self-proclaimed simple man.  I asked him what he wanted for dinner, expecting something along the lines of a delicious steak something involving a large slab of meat.  He surprised me with a request for 5 Guys hamburgers.  I was taken back because it seems like a $5 burger is something he could have every day but it’s what he wants for his birthday dinner.  I can totally deliver on that.  His other request is chocolate cake.  Without icing.  Another easy thing to deliver on!  At least his food requests are easy!

In the almost seven years I’ve known this man, I’m still surprised (and sometimes confused!) but him, but every day makes me love him and his gorgeous baby face even more.  I love the balance we have created in our life together.  Where I am complicated, he is simple and vise versa.  Where I lack adventure, he has it in truckloads.  He is the yin to my yang or the yang to my yin or whatever Confucious say.  He is a rock of stability and responsibility but he doesn’t let those things stop him from being hilarious and fun-loving and gruff and manly and everything a girl could want in a husband. 

Happy Birthday to the best man I’ve ever known.  I hope I can make your 35th year of life the best one yet!

August 17th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

Have I ever mentioned that August is my least favorite month?  Maybe last year when I think I said it a hundred times and then I lost my job?  Yeah.  August and I?  Don’t really “mesh.”  C Jane even agrees with me (though I think she’s doing a better job at fixing her August dislikes than I am).

Arizona sort of exasterbates the problem.

Why, you ask?  Because August is hot everywhere in the US but in Phoenix?  It’s sort of like we’ve reached the seventh level of Hell.  Plus it’s monsoon season so our usual dry heat turns to humid mugginess.  This all translates to sweaty hotness.

Also, school starts in August.  In my planet, school starting equals HORRIBLE traffic.  Just driving down the parkway toward the freeway from my house, I had three giant SUVs cut me off because they almost missed their turns to get their munchkins to school.  It didn’t really start my morning off right, if you know what I mean.  On top of neighborhood traffic, I work near the two biggest private schools in town plus a bunch of other smaller ones PLUS a few more public schools and I’m sure there are 850 charter schools thrown into the mix and ohmygosh it’s like the number of cars on the road quadruples.  When the snowbirds head back down here in about a month I think I might just open a vein.

I feel badly about not liking August.  Matt’s birthday is the 24th and on top of his being the HARDEST PERSON TO BUY PRESENT FOR EVER, IN THE HISTORY OF HUMANITY (Example:  the things wants?  Cost like $15,000.  I’m not even joking.  He doesn’t ask for them, they’re just the things I know he wants - and isn’t getting) I am just sort of burnt out in August.  His presents are never a surprise.  I never know what to get him and after the pressure washer “incident” I’ll never be assuming I just bought the greatest present for him EVER again.

On top of August just being a generally sucky month, last week Matt’s sweet Aunt Lorma, who was a knitting, cooking, painting, crafting, amazingness machine, slipped on some stairs at her daughters house and hit her head.  The hospital missed the intracranial bleeding she had between her brain hemispheres and her brain started swelling, unknown to anyone.  She went to bed that night and never woke up.  It’s devastating for so many reasons and we’re missing her already.  I can’t say enough prayers that her family will be OK and comforted right now.

I was ready for August to be over on about the 5th.  I need this month to hurry up and be over already because I have big plans for September. 

August 5th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

So I have a question for you married peeps.  Did you cry at your wedding?  Or even on your wedding day?

See, I didn’t.  I got a little blurry eyed when the sealer in the temple pronounced us married for time and all eternity but I didnt’ get any real tears because I was just so HAPPY!  Now, I’m not saying people who did/do cry aren’t/weren’t happy.  I was actually shocked that I didn’t cry because I’m a HUGE bawl baby.  I cry a lot.  At lots of different things.  So my expectation was that I would cry all the live long day.  But that day I didn’t.  It was almost like I physically couldn’t!

I remember my sister-in-law bursting into tears of joy when she and her husband were married.  I don’t remember if my sister cried but I don’t think so.  I have been to several other weddings but not a ton and I’m thinking it’s about 50/50 but I’m curious as to what you think. 

Anyway my point in asking this was . . . well there was really no point other than to introduce my topic which was that my little (HUGE) brother got married this last weekend!  I cried like a baby when she came down the aisle.  My sweet brother got all teared up too.  I’m sure everyone in the room did.  It was amazing and gorgeous and everything a wedding should be.  My youngest baby brother was missing which was rough.  He’s finishing up his Army training and we didn’t think he could come but then his commanding officer told him he could come and there was much rejoicing in the land until there wasn’t anymore.  The commanding officer of the commanding officer caught wind of it and said absolutely not.  We missed him a lot all day long.

There was some . . . interesting family dynamics taking place so there was some tension.  My parents are divorced.  Have been for 23 years.  Dad remarried about 14 years ago and we love our “other” Mom, Lisa.  But they are getting divorced now and the term “messy” doesn’t really adequately describe what’s going on here.  Also, Lisa has a new boyfriend and Dad isn’t so peachy-keen on that.  My Mom remarried about the time Matt and I got married and there’s been some weirdness there.  THEN the brides parents are divorced.  Her Dad has also been remarried for a long time but it seems that might not be working out either.  Do you see where I’m going with this?  Lots of people who used to be married but aren’t and lots of people who are married but might not want to be all in the same room for a family event where we all had to behave.  HIP HIP HOORAY!  Lucky for us we only had one “incident” and it was between the least likely parties - the “other” Mom and boyfriend.  Interesting and strange all at the same time.  And it didn’t really affect anything substantial so we all came out unscathed. 

The person who didn’t come out unscathed was one of the groomsmen.  Long story short, his ex-girlfriend showed up as a guest of an invited friend and that was no bueno.  He proceeded to drink himself stupid, have a fight with his NEW girlfriend and somehow found himself on the 15th floor of the Marriott pounding on every.single.door then passing out IN THE ELEVATOR but with his head OUTSIDE OF THE ELEVATOR while the door tried endlessly to shut.  We shall just call it a party in a box.  Security wasn’t so happy and neither was my just married brother with the threat of everybody being kicked out of the hotel if he didn’t handle the “situation.” 

Never a dull moment, right folks??

My only personal complaint for the whole day was that my hairstylist personage didn’t quite understand what I meant when I said I wanted a loose, sideswept bun type thing.  I ended up with a huge mass of curls shoved to one side.  It didn’t look bad it just wasn’t what I wanted and it took FOR-EV-ER.  Also, I don’t know what in the hell she did with hairspray and a curling iron but my hair might never recover.  My pride and joy, my once silky locks have turned into course, puffy . . . something that’s not my hair.  I’m using massive amounts of conditioner (which I never ever use) in an attempt to repair some of the damage.  We’ll see how it goes. 

Small pieces of drama aside, Sean and Kristin were married and happy and gorgeous like Ken and Barbie and we’re expecting Malibu Barbie babies at some point in the future.  I’m super excited to have Kristin in our family even though she is tiny and tan.  I look like a giant pale and tragic vampire next to her but what can you do?  She’s Polish (I think?) and I’m Irish (I know) and that’s just the way it is.  At least somebody in our family is likely to have tan babies.  Mine will for sure be iridescent. 

Wait a minute . . . how did I get from wedding to babies so fast?  I must totally be Mormon.  Weird.