Movin' & a Groovin'

Guess who came for a visit this past weekend?  Mister Derek!  

Apparently when one decides to get married and move half way across the country, you either sell all of your things... throw all your things away... or spend a weekend packing your items into boxes and loading them onto a U-Haul that your wonderful fiance will drive to Texas.  

We went with Option C.  I like my shoes.

Derek and I hadn't seen each other since our lovely engagement weekend (that was over a month and half ago, not that we are counting).  Needless to say, we were very excited to see each other!  I picked him up at the Airport pretty late on Friday night, and we drove around downtown Nashville trying to find a place to feed Mister-I-Haven't-Eaten-In-Hours.  We settled on Lonestar because:

1.  Mister had never eaten there.

2.  Mister thinks Steak is delicious. 

3.  There was no available parking downtown. 

4.  You are allowed to throw the peanut shells on the floor.

We got back to Bowling Green well after midnight on Friday (a pit stop to our spot at the Parthenon Park and a few wrong turns weren't helpful).  While I spent the last night in my Apartment, Mister stayed the weekend at a sweet couple's house who are some of the most wonderful people I know.  Also, they decided to spoil Mister with homemade Banana Nut Bread and coffee, setting the bar pretty high with the breakfast options I'll have to provide to him in the future!

 About 7:30 on Saturday morning saw me outside of the U-Haul store laughing as the slightly ghetto-esque lady kept making fun of Derek.  For not wearing pants. 

"It's cold out here man, don't you have any pants?"

"You could have picked up the truck later if that would have given you time to put on some pants!"

"Let's go inside so you don't freeze without your pants."

Just to clarify:  Derek was wearing shorts, and it was pretty chilly, but he had prepared himself to be moving all of my heavy boxes.  But this ladies complete in-your-face appraisal of Derek's apparel, coupled with the lack of sleep from the night before had me giggling like a school girl. I mean he clearly was wearing pants.

We drove back to my apartment to find that I hadn't packed up all of my possessions yet.  Oops.  I won't even attempt to come up with any excuses.  It was just weird to pack my stuff for this move. The majority was done, I just had the extra ...stuff... left.  We spent the morning putting things in boxes, and the afternoon putting the boxes on the truck.

Guess how many times Mister complained/whined?  Zero.

Guess how many times I complained/whined?  Don't be nosey.

This move is kind of a big deal for me.  I'll be starting a new life, I'll be in a foreign land, I'll be living with a boy.  I knew I had to downsize some of my possessions, I just didn't realize how hard it would be.

For instance, that stash of stuffed animals I've acquired since childhood.  I bid adieu to some teddy bears that I just didn't need anymore, and kept the few that had significance in my life.  This one was pretty easy.

I also channeled my inner self and really, really was honest if I was going to wear certain clothing items again.  Five million Gator Hoodies were not a necessity.  Jeans that I sometimes wear Hiking weren't either.  Mustard Yellow flats with the bow?  I will never get rid of them.  Ever.

But when we came across my great-grandmother's suitcases, the one's she traveled from Poland to America with during the war, I might have had a meltdown.  Don't worry we kept the suitcases.  But what caused me to get overly emotional was these two suitcases were filled with all of my trophies and medals from sporting events throughout childhood. Derek very sweetly sat with me as I explained to him why I won each one, how i loved gymnastics but was too tall to be any good, how some of my softball trophies were just participation trophies, but some were for being in first place.  Basketball and Golf trophies were there too with memories of the banquets I attended and speeches given.

This was the breaking point for me.  I knew the wise thing was to get rid of them.  Yes, they would be cool to show my kids one day, but realistically, the memories I have are always there and the trophies weren't a necessity to keep.  After Mister hugged me for awhile and let me ramble on about my childhood, I knew it was time to throw them away.  I won't pretend I was an emotionally strong enough person to walk with him to the dumpster.  I couldn't be the one to throw them away.  So instead I insisted I needed to clean out the fridge right then.  Which wasn't a lie. Technically.

After church on Sunday, we dined at Rafferty's to use the balance of a gift card I had.  We left knowing we had a few odds and ends to load on the truck,  but Mister decided I needed a treat for being so cooperative the previous day.  Or, he wanted ice-cream himself and knew twisting it in my favor was wise. He's very smart. I love him.  I wasn't fooled Mister.

When it comes to our respective sweet tooth's Mister and I are quite opposite.  

He likes everything chocolate.  Chocolate ice-cream, with chocolate toppings, and chocolate sides, and chocolate all around, and chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.

I like a mixture of fruity and sweet.  Fruity ice-cream, with fruit topping.  And cookie dough.  And cheesecake. And Marshmallow Topping.  Ohhhh the Marshmallow Topping.  It's like pure wonderfulness.  I love it.

A long weekend of packing and general fun with my Mister (which might have included him getting a black eye from my furniture) had come to a close. He was leaving much more quickly than I preferred, but I was happy for the time we did have. I apologize in advance for the sappy comment I'm about to make:  Not spending our engagement together is making more thankful for the commitment we will be making in marriage.  I love having him around and getting to share in the small normal aspects of our individual lives.  

This is him beginning his voyage.  He stopped for the night and made it safely back to Texas.  I'm thankful for his help and his ability to love me despite my neurotic break downs.

I'll miss ya Mister... 116 days until our wedding! 

Ash