ENGAGED! Only not really.

(1/6) Sitting out at the pool with Tessa, reading an American classic (The Three Musketeers) and enjoying the 80's weather. I sure can't ask for much more.
Life has been, as always, a bit crazy. I've been filling my days with lesson plans that range from topics like Sustaining those whom the Lord sustains to Pediatric Medical Emergencies for the BLS provider. Then of course, there's work itself, where no day is ever a dull day. Why in fact, let me share the good news. I am engaged!
But Dibe, you've not been dating anyone! you might be thinking to yourself.
Right-o. But with an offer like this, how could a girl refuse. Let me introduce you to my fiancee.

We met on an 80 degree afternoon, he sat on a bench just outside of the gas station with 'Mary'.
"She ain't my girl friend!" He assures me, endearing himself to me more than his improper use of english, with a drunken wink. "It's not like I sleep with her!"

Whew, dodged a bullet with that! Wouldn't want a fella who's already sleeping with a gal. A gal who 'ain't his sister'. Or with a gal who is.... I suppose the latter is the most frightening. But I digress.

We began our courtship with the usual dialogue, you know things like,
"Why have you called me here today?" and "What seems to be the problem?"
His ever coy response of, "I done drank too much, and I have the chest pains again." This, my friends, is the start of something lasting, I'm sure.

"Well, why don't we get you out of a here." I smile, typical pick-me-up.
My new fiancee, he doesn't conform to social norms. Oh no. In 84 degree weather, he's wearing 8 layers. And showering? That's a ploy from the man to dictate our lives. He doesn't listen to the man. And who can blame him, really? I wouldn't call my fiancee stinky... He just has the aroma of Boulder.

"Sorry bud, the layers have to go. You see, our ambulance, well, it's a lot like menopause. It's either too hot in the summer, or too cold in the winter. With nothing in between."
He chuckles as he removed 4 sweaters and 3 pairs of pants. "Turn on the AC, then!" He suggests, slurring his words for effect.
I slide the side window open and turn to meet his bewildered stare. "What? We're from Boulder, we don't believe in air conditioning. That destroys the environment!" My fiancee glares.
Our first fight. I rush to make amends.
"How about this, we get you to the hospital, THEY have AC!" He ponders for a moment
"Okay, that's probably best."
We tie up some loose ends, and I start driving. As we pull in, I hear my husband-to-be commenting about women drivers. This could be a real source of contention for us, but I let it go. It's all about compromising, right?
"So" he slurs slowly as we pull the wheeled bed he's laying on toward the doors of the hospital. "Are you married?" Ahh, that creepy wink I love so much...

"No sir." I respond, holding my breath (anticipation, not the lack of ability to breath in the confined space with a boulderite)
"Do you want to be?" Wink.
"Are you proposing?" I ask, nonchalantly, I'm sure.
"You betcha!"

I pause.
"Did I just hear right? Are congratulations in order?!" My buddy and coworker asks as he climbs out of his ambulance when we walk by.
"Apparently!"
"You couldn't have picked a better guy!" My buddy tells me. "And you picked the right girl." He tells my fiancee.
"Hey, she's pretty." My fiancee says.

So there you have it. I'm engaged to a man who may not remember he proposed, but it's okay. He thinks I'm pretty.

What a bizarre couple of days it has been. I had just been told by a buddy of mine that I don't accept compliments well. I tried to explain that it was because of my personality. I am a kidder. A joker. Full of shenanigans if you will. Compliments don't come my way very often, because I rarely have a serious enough conversation to warrant one. And that's fine. I don't need compliments, and typically, I don't want them nor do I particularly like them, they make me feel weird.

Everyday since then, I have received one compliment or another. My theory is God's messing with me. Ha. Joke's on me this time! 90% of those compliments have come from intoxicated parties or someone coming out of sedation. Of course.

Everything else is going swimmingly. I've picked up my soda habit again, because it's either that or Meth. These 48 hour shifts without sleeping, yeah they're killing me slowly. Unfortunately, I've also picked up about 6 pounds from my soda drinking. I only drink it on shift, but I drink enough to cause heart palpitations and arrhythmias in full grown men.
Time to really get serious about my calorie intake and working out again. Which is cool, that's one of the few things that I really have a good amount of control of in my life. Time to put some order back in. Been to the gym every day this week. And not just to watch the TVs that they have there!
Woohoo!

Not much else is happening, I saw a movie, Antwone Fisher. I recommend it. I think. It's tough to watch. I almost cried. So if you're one of those who cries at movies, better have a box of kleenex handy. You'll need it.

I finally read The Help. What an incredible story. I think about my family. Years ago, I was given some family history information, and one thing I received was a Last Will and Testament. This was from a family from Illinois (I think) and they had slaves. I remember at 12 or 13 being sick at heart. How could they have had slaves? How could they have disregarded human lives. And then I wondered if my ancestors were rolling over in their graves when they thought of me, their namesake, standing up for the things that I stand up for.
I remember being extraordinarily grateful for a mom who taught me to love everyone, and to leave nobody out. I was grateful for my Grams, who in the late 50's had dated an African American boy (man. I don't know how old they were) and how she was the greatest example of caring about the person.
All in all, I'm grateful to be alive now. I'm happy to have to deal with the Mayan's end of the world, rather than that racism. Sure, we still have fights we're fighting now, but I'm hopeful that equality and humanity and compassion will win.


This weekend is General Conference. I'm thrilled to get to hear the voice of the Prophets. I'm excited to hear what they have to say. What they have to advise us. Yep. So excited. Also, I have the weekend off. WOOHOO! Who's excited? This girl!

Lastly, I broke my computer. Sad. I know, but I don't have the money to replace or repair it. Blast it! I already feel disconnected with the world and it's kind of driving me to distraction!