WE ARE SURROUNDED BY GENEROUS PEOPLE.

I’m not even kidding. We don’t deserve this kind of love from people.

Well, maybe Kevin does, but I sure don’t.

In the past few weeks, we’ve received a heavenly new bed.

(Thank you to those responsible).

Kevin said I can post a picture of it as long as I inform you it’s “the place where the magic happens.” And it is, if you consider “magic” the fact that I can go to sleep under the (500 thread count!) sheets and wake up with half of the material on the floor and the other half tangled around my scrawny legs like I’m Houdini in a great sleep escape, while my hair attempts to imitate Medusa and mouth dribbles out drool. See what you have to look forward to Kevin? And I didn’t even mention the makeup that by early morning has went from eye liner to black eye. It’s like you’re marrying a rabid raccoon.

Sexy.

Also. I used to make fun of people that sleep with pillows between their legs.

That was before, when all had was a twin bed and ONE pillow.

Now?

I totally sleep with a pillow between my knees. And it’s the firmer pillow – the one I think we intentionally bought for Kevin? Sorry, Kevin.

(But not really).

And then there is this thing. This huge, ginormous…

NO not the speakers. Let me finish.

I’m talking about the TV. My parents (bless them) walked in with this literally two minutes after Kevin and I finished setting up all our electronics on an entertainment stand his brother loaned us. My parents were all, “We’re sorry! We’ll take it back!” and I was like what, no. It’s a TV! And it’s HUGE! And it’s FREE! So Kevin and I ran out and bought a new entertainment stand. And if you’re looking closely at the picture, don’t judge our movie choices. It was a PG 13 movie! Just don’t ask me what it was. The only thing I remember is that redbox made some good money off of us for not returning it. Redbox: 1. Us: minus 5.

And then.

Then I got a call from my mom saying someone mailed us a big package and she’s pretty sure it’s a vacuum because, well? It says vacuum on it and who the hell would send us that?

My friend. A very good, very generous friend (SERIOUSLY PEOPLE STOP. Thank you cards aren’t going to cover all of my appreciation for your friendship alone. I can’t handle the gifts too!)

But wait. Bottom right corner. . . what is that?

Oh you know, just my helper.

Someone’s gotta help me. I can’t take photos of vaccuums when I could take photos of big brown eyes, and big ugly teeth.

I swear. He kills me.

Since he decided to be so in the way, I threw on his new harness and snapped some shots.

For the record?

Kevin hates the new harness.

It sparkles.

Glitters.

Glams.

Blings.

But I still bought it because Ollie needed a new one.

And even though he hated it, Kevin let me buy it but only because I threatened him that if he didn’t let me buy this one I was getting the bright pink one and then he would look FAB-U-LOUS! What neutered dog doesn’t want to look like a Diva?

Model on, Ollie. Model on.

YOU CAN ALTERNATIVELY TITLE THIS POST, “AN INTRO INTO THE WEDDING SECTION OF THIS BLOG”.

I was going to just jump right on in on those posts but figured there was a few pieces missing from this story. I mean, we can’t go from first kiss to looking at rings, can we?

Oh wait.

This is Utah. Nevermind on that.

Our second date was sort of an impromptu thing – scheduled immediately as our first date ended. He wouldn’t tell me what we were going to be doing exactly, all he would tell me was to be ready in the morning and wear closed toe shoes.

Ten o’clock rolled around and I visited with Grams and finally he was there. I peppered him with questions as we walked to his car. He said our plans weren’t until later so we’d go up Provo Canyon to kill some time. Here it is folks, the official First Photos of Aubrey and Kevin.

Our first stop was Bridal Veil Falls.

We hiked around and back to our car, but Kevin kept saying we still had time to kill, so we went over to Sundance and that’s when we took this photo:

As we drove off towards Salt Lake, he kept bringing up the “surprise”, but all he would tell me is that it was “something adventurous”.

I thought about that word and figured that the only thing it could mean was the one thing I absolutely positively DIDN’T want to do – rock climbing.

I wanted to throw up.

All that stress was wasted when he pulled up in front of a go cart shop.

He paid big bucks for us to drive around in these fast little go carts for a half hour. It was only the two of us on the track, and he took it easy on me (even though I accidentally rammed into him). It was weird. I wasn’t used to being with someone I didn’t know previously, and I wasn’t used to being on an official date.

You know a guy is really interested in you when he still calls you pretty even though you’re wearing a protective hair bonnet under a big ugly helmet.

A week after that date, we became official.

That post was nine months ago from yesterday.

He still takes me on dates.

He still surprises me with presents and flowers.

He still tells me I’m the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

He still makes my heart go pitter-patter and makes me weak in the knees.

Love you, Kevin. I can’t wait to marry you.

I BOTH DREADED AND LOOKED FORWARD TO SATURDAY NIGHT.

The girls at work knew about our date (shout-out to you, Grecia!) and were asking me questions like what I was going to wear and if I’d kiss him. Up until they asked, I honestly hadn’t even thought about it. Luckily I had bought a new shirt with my sister the week before, so I figured it was as good as any.

I still had no decision on the kiss. I didn’t even let myself think about it, because really? I was just honored that he wanted to go on a date with me in the first place.

And I was doubting that he’d want to kiss me.

And I got these weird butterflies in my stomach and turned lightheaded if I even thought about being close to him, so fantasizing about kissing him was off limits. I had to stay conscious here, people! Besides, if I thought about it, I’d have to decide if I was supposed to tilt my head to the right or the left, and how long you’re supposed to kiss for.

I spent all of Friday night and the majority of Saturday cleaning my house from top to bottom. You know, just in case. And I spent the rest of the time wondering, Am I supposed to invite him in? Do I wait for him to come to the door? Does my shirt look okay?

Mom came to visit and found me downstairs, sitting on the kitchen table.

“Oh dear,” she laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting,” was the only word I could choke out. My hands were starting to get cold (which only happens when I’m nervous) and my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. I had that awful pukey feeling again.

Mom, unused to having one of her daughters go on a first date, began playing twenty questions.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he taking you?”

“Texas Roadhouse.”

“Are you going to kiss him?”

“MOM!”

“Well! Can I meet him?”

“No. Get out. Get out of my house. I don’t want him to see you.” I stood up and shooed her out the door. (Little did I know, me kicking her out did NOTHING as her and Grams both stood at the kitchen window, spying on us the entire time. Creeps.)

I waited who knows how long. Every minute felt prolonged by my anticipation. The glare coming through the window made it impossible to see any cars pulling in the driveway. I’d have to wait for his knock.

Kevin arrived at six sharp.

I invited him in and and gave him the grand tour. (Might I just add, my house hasn’t been that clean before or since). He walked me out and opened my car door, and we drove to the Lehi Texas Roadhouse. The only problem? The wait was two and a half hours long.

“I have an idea,” he said as we walked back to his car. “Lets go to Teppanyakis. It’s just down the road.”

I froze.

Teppanyakis.

Japanese steak house.

Extra emphasis on Japanese.

“I have a confession,” I shuffled my feet, looking only at the ground. “I’m really, really picky. I don’t want you to waste your money on something that I might not like.” My eating habits had been a source of strain between me and everyone I met.

I had never felt so low, to have to tell this wonderful guy who asked me on a date that I was TOO PICKY to eat somewhere. It was bad enough that he was picking up the check, but to make things be on my terms?

Ugh.

“You’ll like it. Trust me,” was all Kevin said before climbing into this car. I followed, dread and fear mixing with all the other emotions in my stomach.

This isn’t the first time I’ve said this, and it won’t be the last.

He was right.

He suggested I get the teriyaki chicken (which was wonderful) and he let me try some of his steak. During dinner we discussed the chefs tricks and our mutual hatred for pickles.

After dinner we headed over to the haunted forest.

I jumped, screamed and whimpered like a typical girl, so he grabbed my hand.

Whomp.

That was the sound of my heart, slamming in my chest. I was grateful for the darkness that covered the deep pink blush of my cheeks.

I kept waiting for him to let go, to get uncomfortable, but he never did. I led him through the darker parts since my eye sight is better at night, but even when we were out of the forest he didn’t untwine our fingers.

We walked back to the car, both of us realizing we were done with our date but not quite ready to go home. He started driving away from the road we came in on.

“Where are we going?” I puzzled. There wasn’t any businesses over here that I could remember.

“You’ll see,” was all he replied, parking once we hit the dead end and shutting off the engine. I still wasn’t completely sure of where we were but he told me earlier to trust him, and I did. He got out and started walking, so I followed.

It was cold. I realized we were walking up the ramp of an old torn down overpass. I passed it on the way to work every day and never really took notice of it.

We walked up to the top, neither of us saying a word. The view from up was absolutely breathtaking. It was one of the darkest nights of the year, yet you could see every detail of the surrounding area from the glowing lights. The traffic was a continual blur of white one way and red the other, a constant whooshing noise floating up from below.

Kevin turned and put his arms around me. Then, in the gentlest of ways, he leaned down and lightly touched his lips to my forehead.

Suddenly I wasn’t cold anymore.

He moved his head back just a fraction of an inch – enough to make me raise mine in question, before he slowly moved his mouth down to meet mine.

It was our first kiss, and it was absolutely perfect.

THE REST OF THAT FIRST WEEK FOUND ME SITTING IN THE COLLEGE LIBRARY, waiting on a certain boy to skip class and come join me.

Isn’t it cute, how we thought we’d be able to actually “study” back then?

I mean, don’t get me wrong, we did get some work done, but it took a lot more time than it should have. We were both dragging it out, trying to find just a couple more minutes to spend with the other.

By Thursday night we’d both finished classes and our assigned homework, and he offered to take me out for a drink as payment for all my help. I obliged but only because he bribed me with a Starbucks Frappachino – one of those many evil things I can’t say no to.

We walk through the parking lot at a comfortable pace, and that’s when I finally took notice of his car.

I didn’t know anything about it other than it was new, it was shiny and I was afraid to touch it. I was used to cars that can take a few beatings. I worried about scratching the paint or slamming the door too hard.

And while I worried, I didn’t even notice him standing there with my door already open.

We drove in silence to the Starbucks up the street. Until then I’d been able to fill the awkward gap with mathematical equations and funny quotes from our teacher. Here? I had no material. Nothing. Not even my past experience with guys could save me, since all my exes were people I’d known for a while before we just decided that we hung out enough to call us “official”.

This Starbucks run? It was date-ish.

“You know, you really should let me take you out on a date, take you out to dinner for all your help,” Kevin said, suddenly breaking the silence.

I panicked.

I’d never – not ever ever ever in my life been asked on an official date. Plus I have this thing against people spending money on me (let’s not go there), so I said the first thing that came to me.

“NO!”

It wasn’t a shy, girly giggly type of an answer. It wasn’t a flirtation. It was me, being awkward and loudly warbling out all of my insecurity in one curt word.

He paused, momentarily stunned by my reaction. “No? You’re going to turn me down when I just asked you on a date?!”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean when you put it like that. . . yes I’ll go. But can I pay?” I pouted in his general direction.

“No. No you may not, and I’ll pick you up on Saturday.”

We parked the car and walked into Starbucks. Not two feet in the door I remembered that I left my wallet in the car. “I don’t want anything,” I whispered to him while he looked over the menu board.

He shifted his body closer, putting his hand on the small of my back. The shock of it was electrifying. Then he whispered, “Get something, baby,” near my ear and I about melted into the floor. I shook my head no. No, I was not about to let him buy me something. He’s the one that somehow wants to hang out with me, the scroungy girl that wears glasses. Shouldn’t I be the one paying for him?

He walked up to the counter and ordered for me anyway. We waited by the front for our drinks. I was still focused on the tingle left where his hand had briefly been.

Giddy.

That’s what I felt, was giddy. It was foreign to me. Like an, “I’m going to puke” feeling where you get hyper-aware of your body (do you feel that too?), just without the actual sickness. It was weird to hone in on someone so much. It was weird to watch the reruns of us over and over in my head each night. I was definitely not used to this.

Kevin turned to me, holding both of our drinks. “Do you want to stay in here or go outside?”

Before I could answer a man, dressed in dreadlocks, boots and a pirate hat walked by with a very familiar swagger. “Um. Jack Sparrow just walked past me.” Because you know, what else could you say at a time like that?

Our evening ended with a long conversation and a promise to pick me up at six on Saturday..

Gulp.

To be continued. . .