Posts Tagged "bf/gf"
Flying through tunnel vision
So way back in May [yeah, yeah, yeah. I know] while the bf was visiting, one of the things I was really looking forward to doing with him was going Indoor Skydiving.
Have you seen Hertz’ most recent ad campaign, “Gas or Brake” where there’s an odd couple of sort with the crazy, “up for anything” girl and the cautious guy? That’s us. I’m down for doing almost anything and most of the time he’s looking at me and really only able to shake his head in response.
One of the things I have always wanted to experience is skydiving. I had a chance to go many moons ago but couldn’t due to some scheduling conflicts; read: I couldn’t get the time off work.
Needless to say, he is not enamored with this idea like I am. He doesn’t want to risk the chance of losing me, since it’s not like it’s the most safest of activities that I could presently be obsessed with. I fought it but eventually agreed to put my skydiving dreams on hold for the moment.
In the meantime, I came across a Groupon for Indoor Skydiving at IFly and figured this would be a great thing to do together. Plus, it’s like skydiving! without the diving! IT’S PERFECTLY SAFE!!
Yes, that was a work-around to my previous compromise. We all knew exactly what I was doing. I wasn’t fooling anyone. Thankfully the bf loves me and tolerates a good amount of my nonsense. I must remember to watch my level of nonsense from here on out. I also feel like I was working towards a debt ceiling joke [haha, how topical!] but it’s just not getting there. So let’s just imagine that I did and all laugh and slap our knees while remarking at just how clever I really am.
I didn’t know what to expect but we both had a great time. They have you arrive early to register and also give you a chance to watch other people as they take their turn in the wind tunnel. It was fun watching everyone take their flight and helped to prepare you for what to expect when it was your turn.
After a quick video orientation, we suited up and loaded into the jump area to await our turns. The package we purchased included two one-minute flights and a DVD of the session [which includes EVERYONE in your group]. I was a little nervous about the bf enjoying himself but he ended up having a great time!
It took me a few seconds but I got my bearings and did pretty well during my time in the wind tunnel. Towards the end of your second flight, the instructor hangs on and takes you up high into the tunnel. It is at once thrilling and exhilarating and a little scary. That was my favorite part [duh, right?]. On my way down I had a huge grin on my face.
I would totally do this again, and if you need more of a reason [because I would do a lot of things again] so would the bf. If that’s not enough of an endorsement, I don’t know what is. Just do it.
I wanted to include the edited video the bf made but I’m having trouble getting it to play on Vimeo. If I get it working, I’ll add the link to the post.
*All photos courtesy of IFly SFBay
Read MoreSix years strong
This week the bf and I celebrated our sixth anniversary. That’s 72 months, 312 weeks, 2,191 days, 52, 584 hours…okay, you get it:
We’ve been together a long dang time.
While we were driving down to Monterey in January [I know, still owe you a write up], I found myself looking over at him and marveling in the fact that we had been together for almost six years at that point, and for a few seconds, I kind of silently freaked out. Six years? SIX YEARS?! If our relationship was a kid, it’d be in the first grade! While I was freaking out, a sudden calm hit when I realized just how awesome this whole thing is.
Six years ago I was a skeptic, cynic and yet hopeful that I would have a love like this. I was doubtful it would happen, even joking that I would just settle for becoming a nun. That worked until I realized I wasn’t Catholic and so becoming a nun was no longer an option. Not that it ever actually was, but it was nice to have something there. I also was randomly concerned about my ability to being a girlfriend, as my relationships up until that point never lasted a month, and thus never required any real level of emotional support that a significant other typically provides.
But then I met the mister and things began to change. The transition wasn’t smooth, not in the least bit. We had a lot of learning to do about ourselves as individuals and us as a couple. I was no longer in a situation where I could think only about myself, which was incredibly difficult. Not that I’m completely self-centered but after 23 years of doing things my way, it was hard to step back and remember that my decisions were now affecting someone other than myself and that I would need to account for them. He had to adjust to someone with a very strong independent drive. There were new communication styles to maneuver around and expectations to meet. This was all so very new to me and incredibly overwhelming to me, that at times I felt that I was failing as a girlfriend.
Of course, I was not failing at being a girlfriend, but simply learning how to be one. Today, we still have our minor skirmishes but it feels so good to be at the point where I no longer am stricken with The Fear that any fight could potentially signal the end of our relationship, that we would work through it, talk it out and bounce back instead of simply giving up. It feels good knowing that I can think about our future and know that he’ll be there with me.
We’ve taught each other a lot of things and there are still many lessons left to be learned. Like, don’t touch or think of touching my stomach when it I’m nauseous or I might hurl. Or if he’s really serious about making sure we clean EVERY weekend. Um. Yeah. About that…
But through it all, he has been there for me and continues to stand by my side, to comfort, support, encourage and yes, even get on my nerves. I love him and he loves me.
Here’s to the first six years of our lifetime. I love you lovely.
Dear Kermit: I’m sorry
One of the bigger highlights from my “summer in the Midwest” adventure was eating frog legs.
More accurately, I nibbled on a small portion of a frog’s leg.
I know what you’re thinking, how exactly did frog legs end up on the menu for a Fourth of July family BBQ? We’re not really sure but the bf’s aunt brought them along with a ginourmous cooler filled with fish. I didn’t know about the legs until I walked into the kitchen to see her cleaning the cooler contents and saw the sister playing with them.
People, the legs were connected to each other. Seriously. They looked like they could really small people legs! It doesn’t help any that the Aunt then started singing some song and making the legs dance around as if they were part of a chorus line.
Almost like this actually…
I was curious because I’m kind of reckless like that but apprehensive because I’m kind of scary like that. I was really curious as to whether or not it tastes like chicken like you always hear. The sister and I went back and forth on whether or not we would eat one, finally settling on if one tried it, the other would too. The family laughed at me since I was staring at the frogs legs for a while, but that was just me sizing up the situation and making it a little less scary.
The aunt fried them on the grill and I finally worked up enough courage to try some [the sister had tried early but failed and the grandmother sampled some - if she could do it, how could I chicken out?].
My frogs leg eating twin
The verdict? They were okay. I maybe might try them again in a restaurant setting if someone else ordered them but I wouldn’t order them myself. They did have a slight chickenesque flavor to them but I tried fingering the exact taste but couldn’t. I was actually surprised that the bf sampled them as well, especially after he spent the better part of the afternoon refusing to do so whenever I asked.
At least I can cross this snack off my list of foods to try. I’m going to definitely earn that “Been there, Ate that” tshirt.
Yum?
How to eat an abomination
I lived in Michigan for four years and never had a good Mexican meal. There was one restaurant near campus that I attempted to like my freshman year but ruled out because it wasn’t cutting it and one quick franchisey burrito joint that filled the role of Taco Bell without the post-meal regret: it wasn’t special but worked in a pinch.
Now, I’m not saying there isn’t any good Mexican in the entire state of Michigan, so if there is a place y’all swear by, please let me know so I can try it out, but as far as I know, there is no good Mexican food in Michigan. Michigan being Ann Arbor and Flint.
Yes, I attempted to eat Mexican food in Flint. What was I thinking? I have no clue but I had developed the most intense craving for chicken enchiladas that I was desperate to satisfy and couldn’t wait until I returned to California. Which was the next day. Patience is definitely not my virtue. We’ve covered this many times before.
Anywho, so the bf’s mom took us out to dinner and gave me the honor of choosing where to eat. For a normal person, this decision isn’t hard, especially since there aren’t too many restaurants in the Flint area to begin with. But pose this question to me and since I rarely ever desire a specific type of food, I’ll furrow my brow, stare, hem and haw until someone else makes the decision because my answer of “Food?” [yes, with the question mark] is not helpful in the slightest.
I asked if there were any good Mexican restaurants and we ended up at Tia Helita‘s in Burton. I’m not sure when I became so particular about my Mexican food considering that I’ll happily eat at Chevy’s. To be honest, I probably don’t really know what “good Mexican food” really is but I sure do know when it’s bad.
My grievances with this restaurant is long: the decor is stereotypical of a tacky Mexican restaurant: random sombreros, plastic “Cinco de Mayo” beer flag banners and images of the Virgin of Guadelupe. Plus it was really dark for some reason. Probably to make sure you don’t know what you’re supposed to be eating. So the food. In one word: bland. Mexican food is about the flavor and the spice and the heat and I got none of that. First problem: they served their unevenly fried and salted chips with salsa and canned nacho cheese.
Let me repeat that because I’m sure your indignation was as riled as mine: CANNED NACHO CHEESE. Who does that?!
Second problem: the bland food. My chicken enchiladas were lacking in every department. The sauce didn’t taste like anything except red, the chicken wasn’t seasoned at all and dry. The enchiladas were overstuffed in parts that when I cut into them, I’d end up with a wad of chicken on my fork. The rice was dry on top and pretty bland everywhere else and the refried beans started out tasting okay but then weren’t tasting like anything. To be serious, I kept looking around after just about every bite expecting to see Gordon Ramsey to bust into the dining room and tell me that they were serving me old refried beans.
I felt like a real jerk for requesting something only to be so critical later. Thankfully the bf admitted he didn’t like the food either and we had a good laugh about it. I definitely learned one thing: next time I’m in a mood for Mexican food, I’m just going to go to Red Robin for a burger.
Read MoreIts like the Real World or something
I’m finally back into my supposed groove after a pretty busy spring quarter at school and a much needed and anticipated two week vacation visiting the bf. Nearly 14 days of unadulterated me and him time. All the time. No breaks.
A quirk of being a long distance couple is that since the majority of our visits tend to average about 4-7 days, we’re usually pressed for time and don’t really get the chance to fall into our normal mode. We’re on our best behavior because we’ll only be together for x amount of days and who wants to be all annoyed and mad when who knows when we’ll next see each other? Naturally one can only be nice for so long and eventually the real you is bound to squeeze out.
My real me typically involves lots of watching gratuitous amounts of television. And taking my sweet time shopping in stores. And bouncing around from roller coaster to roller coaster [story forthcoming]. And whining in inclement weather: within minutes of walking out of the airport, I start whining about the humidity. Seriously. Heat I can deal with, its the humidity that I don’t like. Who wants to walk around feeling sticky all the time? No this girl. Heat is that guy you hesitate to invite to the party because you’re not sure if he’ll bring Humidity with him. And you didn’t invite Humidity.You never invite Humidity.
But I digress. I also don’t really accept change that I don’t initiate very well. We had plans to visit my adoptive Michigan family but the day we had planned to go there were torrential downpours in the Detroit area. In all honesty, there really wasn’t an issue in changing plans but for some reason when the bf mentioned it, I was heartbroken. His reasoning made perfect sense but for some reason I kept thinking how rude it would be to cancel last minute and what if they had made plans for us?!
Of course the bf didn’t quite understand why I was being so pouty [truth be told, neither did I] and while we were discussing it, he expressed his displeasure and ROLLED HIS EYES AT ME.
People, I stopped in my tracks and stared at him. All I could think was, “Did he just roll his eyes at me?” And then I turned around and nearly cracked a smile because 1] he’s probably rolled his eyes at me before but I can’t see it over the phone or IM, 2] I realized just how stupid the whole thing was. I mean, I knew it would work out [and it did] but sometimes you feel things that just aren’t rational and you just have to roll with it until the end. That’s stubborn commitment right there.
Sure we walked out of the room slightly tense and went our ways but we came back and worked things out, which was really the point. But y’all, you know how I am amused that he rolled his eyes at me this one time? I don’t know if I’ll find it so novel in the future but hey, it worked this time.
I do have some more stories to share from my epic two week vacation that don’t involve sitting on the couch watching television, I swear.
One of which may or may not involve frogs’ legs and whether or not they taste like chicken. Chew on that.
Read More