i said yes

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No, I am not engaged. I’m not even dating someone, although with the last time I got engaged (the only time) that’s about how fast it happened. But I have recently come across three posts about engagement rings that I found very interesting (here, here and here…be sure to read the comments, as well) and that got me thinking about the whole “proposal” thing. Having been there and done that once, I feel like I’ve got a little bit of experience. And actually, if you include the instant message proposal, then I’ve been there twice, so that gives me even more clout. Just don’t look to me for any advice on an actual marriage.

I do have some opinions on rings. I had a diamond and I liked it. I don’t know that I want one again. We’ll see. But this post is not about the “bling”. This post is about the actual proposal.

When “the boy” and I decided to get married, it was a decision we made together, over the phone. I wasn’t going to be seeing him for a while and so that’s how it was discussed. He wanted to propose to me at the airport when I picked him up, with all of my friends and family there. He told me this later, at which point I should have known things were not going to work. While I am all about disclosing the details of my life, I do not like that type of limelight. It’s just not my thing. I have an extremely loving family, a family that would walk to the end of the earth for me. We all know we love each other, but we are not overtly affectionate or over-the-top about it. Having a guy propose to me in front of anyone is not my idea of a good time. Of course, to the boy’s credit, I did not share any of this with him. I don’t know that I had yet realized just how much I don’t like public affection. Not regular old PDA…I’m all for making out at the movies*…but declarations of love in public.

Well, the boy’s plan didn’t work out, mainly because my family did not like him and the weekend he came out was just too busy for all of them. So, no family. But he still wanted it to be some grandiose gesture. It would be a proposal by loud speaker, in the airport. That didn’t work out because in the Phoenix Airport they no longer make actual announcements when paging people, they just say your name and that you have a message waiting. So, I heard my name, went to the little paging station, picked up the phone and heard a little message telling me where the would-be-fiance was located and that he was going to ask me to marry him.

I found him, he got down on his knee, asked me to marry him and I said “yes”.

Really, it was sweet. And quiet. A little more public than I would have liked, but it was in the presence of strangers, so it was all right.

So, why am I writing this?

Because, after I got engaged, people would ask me over and over and over again how he asked me. The question in my head was always “Why does it matter?” Not that it’s not an exciting thing, but really, does it matter how he proposed? Is a “bad” proposal indication of less love? What is the person going to say when he/she thinks the way he proposed just wasn’t that great? “Well, at least you got a nice ring”? I just felt awkward. Even sharing it now feels awkward. Not because I didn’t like the proposal, but because you cannot recreate that moment for someone else. It never comes out sounding right.

Now, I’m guessing not everyone agrees with me. I’m guessing some of you out there would love a proposal on the screen at seventh game of the World Series. And I’m guessing some of you who are married loved sharing how he proposed…or for those of you doing the proposing, how you proposed. I, however, am not one of those people. I don’t like big and I don’t like sharing a moment that, to me anyway, is a rather intimate and personal moment, with anyone who decides to ask me. It goes right to my whole issue with, “Oooh, you’re engaged. Let’s see the ring.”

I don’t need some huge ring and I don’t need a screen with flashing lights or a proposal written in the sky. Not only do I not need them, but I don’t want them. What I do want is a ring that a great guy picked out and thought, “Wow, I think Chloe will love this.” What I do want is a sweet, quiet declaration of love with an invitation to spend the rest of forever with him. What I do want is for people, someday (should “someday” happen) to ask me what it was about this man that I fell in love with and why I am so excited to spend my life with him, not how he asked me and what the ring looks like.

*While I do enjoy a good make out, my days (there were only about three…which I realize is three too many) of movie make-outs is over.

fajita salad with creamy cilantro-lime sauce

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I modified the recipe slightly. For the original recipe, click here. And, while the picture may not be the best, I promise you the salad is delicious. The list of ingredients is what I used, although you could really using anything in the “taco salad acceptable” realm (I think avocados would be excellent on this). Seriously, it’s the sauce that makes the salad and it’s 100% fat-free. This is my new favorite.

Ingredients:

Salad:

  • 1 Tbsp olive oil
  • 2 Tbsp taco seasoning (my simplification of the five ingredients in the original)
  • 1 pound skinned, boned chicken breast — cut into thin strips
  • Cooking spray
  • 6 c shredded romaine lettuce
  • 1 c sliced red onion – separated into rings
  • 1/2 c shredded reduced-fat Monterey Jack cheese
  • 1 (15-ounce) can black beans – rinsed and drained
  • 1 c grape tomatoes, halved

Creamy Cilantro-Lime Sauce:

  • 1/2 c fat-free sour cream
  • 1/2 c fat-free mayonnaise
  • 1/3 cup skim milk
  • 3 tablespoons lime juice
  • 2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
  • 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
  • 2 large garlic cloves — minced

Directions:

Combine olive oil and taco seasoning in a medium bowl. Add chicken; toss to coat. Place a large nonstick skillet coated with cooking spray over medium heat until hot. Add chicken mixture; sauté 8 minutes or until chicken is done. Set aside.

Divide lettuce and next 5 ingredients (lettuce through tomato) among bowls; top with chicken mixture. Serve with Creamy Cilantro-Lime Sauce.

To make Creamy Cilantro-Lime Sauce: Combine all ingredients in a small food processor (the original said to whisk it, but when using fat-free ingredii, I’ve found the food processor works much better to get that cream consistency). Cover sauce, and chill.

I didn’t calculate points, but my guess is about 5, with the chicken and the sauce.

and the other side

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So, you know I wrote a post yesterday about this jerky guy? Well, then today, I read a post on another blog that made me think. While the post I made yesterday was true…and fun to write…I really don’t want anyone out there to think I hate men or that I think they are all jerks. After reading that other blog post, I thought about what my post may have inspired in my readers.

So, because of that, I’d like to direct you to a few posts about some great men: my dad, my brothers, my friend Hillary’s husband, my friend Denae’s father and husband (her dad was my bishop as a youth and he really is so great!), and the list goes on and on.

Thanks, Farrah, for sharing your thoughts. We all need a little reminding now and again.

Who are the good men in your life? Have you thought to talk about them lately? Please feel free to post links in the comments to your “good men” posts.

who raised you?

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You will rarely find me posting about guys, especially in specifics, on the blog. I want to be able to be honest on here and so that requires some filtering of topics and subjects. Not only that, but I really am not that bitter girl who thinks that all men are jerks and that I don’t need one…well, want one. I don’t really think I need one, other than for the obvious.

Having said that, I’m sure you know what’s coming. One more thing before we begin. All of those times my mother told me that one of the best ways to know how a guy is going to treat you is to watch how he treats his mother, I now realize that really, you can watch how a guy treats ANY girl he’s not interested in and that is an even better indication (as evidenced below).

This weekend I had the opportunity to spend some “quality time” with a bachelor. We’ll call him Kevin*. I don’t want to go into detail about how I know Kevin or what our connection is because, well, just because. But, here are my questions for Kevin (and by questions, I mean “things that Kevin did that I cannot believe he did and that make me not want to date, or be boyfriended or get married…EVER”). And realize that I am on a rant. I don’t really dislike men in general. In fact, I have several great examples of fantastic ones in my life, but Kevin…well, let’s just say he’s not one of them. And if you can’t see what’s wrong with the examples below, I am praying for you. Seriously.

And we begin (please choose all answers that you feel apply and answer them in order as some of the questions will help answer the previous ones)…

  1. You are a guest in a couple’s home. The couple has a brand new baby and the woman often has to get up in the middle of the night and come into the kitchen for various reasons. You spend the first night on the couch because you are too immature to share a bedroom with your brother-in-law. After that first night, the man asks you if you wouldn’t mind sleeping back in the bedroom because it would make his wife more comfortable with having to get up in the middle of the night. You:
    1. graciously oblige, feeling a little guilty that it didn’t occur to you that you might be making your host slight uncomfortable.
    2. give your hosts a bit of a hard time, but still sleep in the bedroom because you are their guests and they asked you if you wouldn’t mind doing that.
    3. listen to their request, but decide to still sleep on the couch because you are too immature to share a room (not a bed) with your brother-in-law.
    4. loudly state that you are going to have to veto that decision, even when approached by the woman’s sister who basically tells you you’re a rude guest (in a kind and joking way).
  2. (This is a two part question.) You have arrived back at your hosts’ home after a dinner out paid for by the woman’s father. Dessert was not ordered at the restaurant, but ice cream was provided back at the house. The woman’s sister and nephew make a pan of brownies for the following day’s festivities. You decide that you would like a brownie so you:
    1. politely ask the woman’s sister if you can have a brownie.
    2. go straight for the pan, that is covered in aluminum foil and dig in.
    3. loudly mention how delicious the brownies smell and how good they must taste.
    4. proclaim, “These are for me, right?”
  3. (continuing)…once you are informed that the brownies are actually not for that night, but the following one, you:
    1. state how excited you are to eat the brownies tomorrow and ask if you can wash the bowl since the sister and nephew did the work.
    2. whine about how it’s not fair when they smell so good and you want one now.
    3. try to schmooze the sister (who you, of course, assume will fall for you pitiful attempt at flirting because, well, you apparently think you are “just that good”) into giving you a brownie anyway.
    4. Wait until the woman and her sister have gone to the other side of the house, ask the man, who then must ask the woman, who ends up giving in because she is waaay too nice.
  4. After having had your brownie you:
    1. are satisfied with one and wait until the following day, when dessert is served.
    2. decide that one wasn’t enough and wait until the sister leaves to eat a few more, at the same time scratching up the pan because you’re an idiot and used a knife on a nonstick pan.
    3. get into the brownies Sunday morning, leaving only half of them for everyone else (25 people to be exact)
    4. act all cavalier about how you ate the brownies and mention how nice it was for the sister to make brownies just for you.
  5. You have been a guest at the house for a day. The woman gets home from working to find her house a semi-disaster because no one has cleaned up after cooking dinner. You notice that she begins to do the dishes…dishes that she did not use in any way, shape or form. You:
    1. get up and start helping this poor woman who’s cleaning up after four men with a two month old on her hip.
    2. help the woman once she has asked you if you wouldn’t mind helping.
    3. sit on your lazy arse and do nothing.
    4. offer to help when you notice that she has put the last dish in the dishwasher.
  6. The entire group gets back to the couple’s home on Sunday after church people are busily preparing food for lunch. You:
    1. offer to help and when asked to cut the tomatoes, inform the woman’s sister (who’s running things) that you’ve never cut a tomato before.
    2. sit on your butt and watch NASCAR with the other lazy people (NASCAR???).
    3. help cut tomatoes, but in the process cut your finger (not cut, like stitches…cut like scratch), which apparently is a mortal wound that keeps you from being able to help in any further capacity, but doesn’t keep you from shooting a game of pool.
    4. come into the kitchen and ask if you can have a brownie.
  7. You can’t stay at your girlfriend’s house, rather than the couple’s, because she dumped you (I don’t understand why). When asked whether you are dating someone you:
    1. basically lie about it and say, yes you were, but she wanted a little “too much” from you (whatever that means) so you had to put the “kibosh on the relationship”.
    2. say that you were, but it ended, giving no further details.
    3. state that no, you are not dating someone.
    4. state that you were dating someone, but she dumped you.
  8. When asked why you are still single, you think that it’s because:
    1. you just haven’t found a woman who is everything you’re looking for.
    2. women are too demanding and expect you to do too much.
    3. are holding out for a woman like your mother, who never made you slice a tomato or do your laundry.
    4. can’t seem to find one that will marry you.

Answers: 1. 4, 2. 4, 3. 3 & 4, 5. 4, 6. 1 & 3, 7. 1, 8. I don’t know…but these all seemed like viable options.
* As always, name has been changed to protect the guilty, stupid and otherwise socially inept.

procrastinating…

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I know I just posted about having a busy weekend, and it was, and truly this week is so busy I’m not really sure what to do. So, I really shouldn’t be blogging, but I feel like I owe you, my fellow runner readers, a real recap of my Saturday Run from Hell…or “in Hell”. Not only that, but I’m feeling the need for a “procrastination break”. So…here we go.

I arrived in Arizona at about 8:30 pm on Friday. I had gotten about 2 hours of sleep the night before, so I was exhausted. I got to bed about 10:30 and set my alarm for 4:45 am. I needed to get in my 10 miles and with the AZ heat (and weird humidity) I wanted to be done sooner rather than later.

My alarm went off at 4:45. I heard it. I looked at it. And then I felt the pounding in my head. It was horrible. So, I snoozed my alarm…and continued to snooze it until 6:00 am. Finally, I rolled out of bed, got dressed, headed downstairs and found the Advil in my brother’s cupboards. I know ibuprofen is not the best idea before a run, but I was DYING! I ate a little, pulled my water bottles out of the fridge (thanks to my sweet niece who had filled them up the night before), put my energy chews in a ziplock and was ready to go.

I left the house and it was sprinkling ever so slightly. It’s been rather raining in Gilbert over the past few weeks, so the humidity was out of control. Combine that with 85 degrees at 6:15 am and I was less than thrilled. I started out slowly, hoping the sprinkling and clouds would continue through the entire 10 miles. Of course, they didn’t.

The hard thing with running in Arizona (okay, one of the many, many hard things) is that I am so familiar with the area and the streets and everything is on a mile grid system, so I know exactly where I am and how far I’ve run at any given moment. I had no idea just what a mind game my running has been so far. It is a game I have been winning, for the most part. On Saturday, I wasn’t just just playing a tough game. I was playing a losing game. It was my body versus my mind and with no strategy, my mind had won before I even left the house.

I got out the door late. I knew I had to be back and ready to head out the door with my sister-in-law and kids by about 8:30. Already, the odds were stacked against me. And then you change all of my circumstances. I was running on streets instead of up the canyon on a trail. I’m used to doing pretty good up and downhill stretches. I look forward to the down hill because it’s the second half of my long runs. No downhill on Saturday. Just some gentle slopes now and then. And the streets stretch forever. The asphalt was hot. The humidity made it so my feet (even with Sport Shield on them) were rubbing horribly. My head was still hurting. I couldn’t seem to get hydrated enough, so I kept drinking, but then I had had too much water.

The battle in my head began at about 2.5 miles into my run. Here’s how it played out:

Body: “Seriously, you cannot be giving up. You have run 13 miles. 10 is no big deal.”
Mind: “Yes, but it’s hot. It’s humid. Your feet are killing you.”
Body: “My feet aren’t hurting that badly. What’s one more blister?”
Mind: “You are only 3 miles into this and already you have had half of your water.”
Body: “So, I’ll be plenty hydrated for the rest of the run.”
Mind: “You took that Advil, but your head is still pounding.”
Body: “You do have one there…my head is killing me.”

I begin to walk.

Mind: “What if you end up passing out? You didn’t bring your cell phone with you.”
Body: “I’ve never passed out in my life. I think I’d stop before I got to that point.”
Mind: “I don’t know. You’re not exercising very much sense right now.”
Body: “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Mind: “You told Shelley you would be back by about 7 am. What if she starts to worry?”
Body: “She is a bit of a worrier. I’d hate to make her worry.”

I turn around and head back to the house.

Mind: “That’s right. See, now doesn’t that feel better?”
Body: “Yes, it does.”

And that’s how 10 miles turned into 6.5.

So…this week we are going to do a little more street running to prepare for our 15 miles this weekend. We are going to sacrifice blogging, the “Eclipse” release party tonight, socializing and other enjoyable experiences to get enough sleep. We are going to continue to lay off the Diet Coke and make sure that we drink plenty of water. And we are going to make sure that we make good food choices.

While I don’t love running, I do love the feeling of a good run and I have been missing it. I think that, as long as I can stick to the plan, this weekends 15 miler should be great…and if not, at least I’ll have some good company.

The playlist was my 13 mile list with one change…I added in U2’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday”.