Better Late Than Never

Well, would you look at that...I still have a blog. 

And I have an answer to "what happens when I date" too.

Valentine's Day is approaching and I thought I would pick this thing back up again, because it seems timely and appropriate.  I then realized I'm a bad, inconsistent blogger.  I haven't written since August and that seems totally unfair to all of you, because I know you're so desperate to read & know about my life.  Let's start with the biggest thing first, shall we?

I'm engaged. 

Shocked, are we? I know.  So was I.  It's true.  Someone (Mr. Wild Card, to be exact) asked me to put on a weighty and absurdly expensive white dress and legally bind myself to him.  He's gotta be crazy.

We'll be getting married this fall and I'm in the process of planning now.  Note: by "planning", I mean getting completely overwhelmed by the sheer number of decisions I have to make and instead of doing that, watching endless episodes of Army Wives from the comfort of my bed.  It's bizarre to think that this time next year when I'm apologizing for not writing more, I'll be a wife to a man who gladly deals with me crying because Mission Burrito forgot to put shrimp in my bowl.  Wow.  Bananas.

And yet, I'm still not really sure how I got here.  I have a ring on my hitchin' finger and a guy who loves me consistently and fully.  I feel like the girl who was unsure of whether or not she was going on a date is a stranger.  I'm more self-assured and confident.  I'm less weary and wandering.  I've grown.  I'm more of me than I have been in a very, very long time.  How did I change into this person from the one I was?  I can say, without hesitation, that love grew me.  Love mended me.  Love righted me.

While none of my change is simply because Mr. Wild Card gave me a ridiculously gorgeous piece of jewelry, the love from someone who loves me absolutely and unconditionally has caused my heart to overflow with happiness and contentment.  Having someone love me as I love them is the most perfect and honest thing that this life has given me so far.  The way Mr. Wild Card cares for me is unselfish and unabashed.  My fear of abandonment fades with each passing day.

See friends, this kind of love is the kind that God wants for us.  This kind and patient love. This honest and true love.  This is the love that we are to yearn for - not the kind of love that fades away with time or distance.  Not the kind of love that simply makes us feel good.  Not the kind of disposable or manufactured love that the world shows us. 

The romantic love Christ has intended for us, the kind bound in honor and founded in sacrifice, is the kind of love that can be transformative and boundless.  Just like His love for us. How did it take me so long to see that?

I've found my forever person.  That, my friends, is what happens when I date.

~j

Who Am I Anyway?

I turned in my final school assignment yesterday, for my last class.  Ever.  For 25 years, I have been in school.  That's been my identity - a student.  And now, with the submission of that final final, I'm done.  That's it.  The chapter that's encompassed a bulk of my life and the entirety of my adult life is over.  I'm feeling a little sentimental about school now, of course, but I'm certainly thrilled to be done. I won't have to stay home to work on a paper or stay up late to prep a thesis, all my time is for me! For things I want to do! But what, exactly, do I want to do? I have no idea. Outside of school, I don't do much else besides eat (awesomely), sing (semi-okay) and run (badly). Maybe I'll audition for The Voice and make Adam Lavine fall in love with me...

So, if I'm no longer a student, then who am I?

I know I'm being a little existential here, but it lead me down a train of thought that I couldn't stop.  I mean, should you even be defined by what you do or what your hobbies are anyway?  Probably not, but in this period of transition I'm suffocating myself with introspection.  It's not pretty.  

What does this mean for my dating life (or lack thereof)?  I've heard on numerous occasions that you need to know yourself before you start to date anyone, but I'm left to wonder if that's true.  What's wrong with figuring yourself out while your dating?  I'm not going to change intrinsically; as Popeye says, I am who I am, but what if I figure out that I love to square dance?  Or to competitively bass fish?  Couldn't the person I'm dating grow to understand my new love of knitting or canning vegetables?

I would think that if someone can tolerate enjoys my robust personality, loud laugh, long, winding (and nearly unending) stories, occasional flatulence, love of tacos, addiction to Diet Pepsi and propensity to cry, they could handle me suddenly wanting to become an expert scrapbooker or fluent in Flemish.  I'm just going to count on that and start to figure out who this Jeana the Graduate person is.  (Spoiler alert: She's going to be more awesome...if it's possible.) 

I Guess I Need to Break Up With My Passwords Too

I went to sign into Amazon yesterday and realized my password was a variation of the nickname of a ex-boyfriend from almost three years ago.  Now, I go to Amazon often (honesty moment: way too often), but somehow I just noticed this.  How did I go this long and not change that password?  Maybe it was just easy to remember.  Maybe I got lazy and didn't want to update it.  Maybe I was hoping I wouldn't have to change it.  Whatever the reason, he and I obviously aren't together anymore and it's kinda of a bummer to be reminded of him when I go to sign in to buy a One Direction cool, hipster album.

Afterward, I began to do an inventory of my passwords - all 4,000 of them.  It seems that I have a bit of a habit of using ex-boyfriend's names, nicknames, dog's names and/or street names for things.  In a fit of rage at myself, I changed all of them.  This means 2 things: 1. I rid myself of all the daily reminders of my exes I've collected over my adult dating life and 2. I won't be able to log into my Netflix, emails, Twitter, Facebook and about 1/2 dozen other things because I can't remember the new password.  

There is always a cleansing after a break-up, especially a major one.  We take down pictures, delete phone numbers, emails and texts, defriend or unfollow try to keep that person from popping up in our minds.  That's probably the worst part: all the things that we've gathered over time in joy become reminders of our failures.  It could be sad, and it often is, but it has to be done in order to move on.  Right?  

Even though I'm dusting off the remnants of relationships gone south, I still have the hope that someday I'll be able to fill those areas with memories of someone new.  Someone whose nickname I can make a password that I won't have to change...ever.

~J