Game Changer

So I really didn’t think I’d be blogging again until after the Holidays, but I’m pretty sure my b.f. Flynn just changed my life.

Let me backtrack for a moment.

 I’ve realized in recent months that I can come across a little…self-involved when I blog. I always seem to be talking about how blessed I am, how amazing my husband is, my family is, my friends are, and on and on and on. I definitely do not mean to be gloating when I say these things, but it may very well seem like I am. I do not want to come across this way.

The thing is I have never really had anything bad happen to me. Truly bad. I have, however, been witness to some of the most important people in my life experiencing deep sorrow and tragedy. And while I ache for loved ones when they are going through difficult times, I have never had to directly experience real heartache. And that is where I believe my compulsion to shout my blessings from every rooftop was born. I feel this need to express my gratitude and acknowledge my blessings because I think I’ll lose them otherwise.

I’ve known this about myself for a long time. I just wasn’t sure how to stop it.

And then, I’m sitting on the porch yesterday, watching the rain fall & chatting with Flynn when all the sudden she says: “Keri, your life is pretty great right now. Maybe it’s your opportunity to really nurture the people around you. To be a nurturer for the people in your life.”

And the rain stopped and the heavens parted and I saw the light.

What Flynn so simply stated instantly changed my perspective. It allowed me, right then & there, to begin to own my happiness. To stop treating it as this fragile thing that must be exclaimed and fussed over in order to survive. That instead of being so afraid of losing  my happiness, I should be afraid of squandering it.

My little Flynnie, so profound sometimes!

So here's to 2012! A year I hope is full of happiness, but more importantly, a year full of opportunities to use that happiness in meaningful ways.

Merry Christmas y’all!

My Christmas Card List

So, this Christmas Season has been a little different in the Metje/Billig household.
 

I didn’t put up a tree this year. When I announced my decision to skip on the decorating I thought Josh was going to either check me in to the ER or the Psych ward.  

I didn’t shop. Usually I LOVE going to a busy mall at Christmas- the people, the music, the line for Santa.  But, I was in a car accident last week. So I had to drive this really big and really ugly rental car. I basically tried to avoid driving all together and did a lot of my shopping on-line. My rental, my driving anxiety, and Atlanta parking kept me home.

And I didn’t go to one single Christmas party. I found out after I booked my flight home, I’d be missing THREE Christmas parties down in Atlanta. No party dresses, no $10 and under gifts, no peppermint or cinnamon rimmed drinks. Sad!

And so, I found myself seriously lacking in Christmas cheer...until I sat down and started my Christmas cards the other day. I love writing Christmas cards. I turn it into a whole production with spread sheets and color coding and assembly lines. It’s fun for me. But the best part is looking over my Christmas Card List. Reflecting on all the names that makeup that list and how they are significant to me, to Josh, to US.

Most of the people on my list I’ve known for 20 years or so. It includes the boy I held hands with in 3^rd grade and the boy I was cruel to in 8^th. It includes the girl I stole my parents’ car with the summer before 9^th grade and the girl who told on me to my parents. On that list are three friends expecting babies and two new mothers. I addressed the card to my best friend and her fiancé for the very last time, next year’s card will read Mr. & Mrs. Five more friends will tie the knot next year.

There are the boys who helped Josh survive Knob year, the boys he got into trouble with in high school, and all his family members who are now mine. Cards were sent to the Carolinas, California, Missouri, and Tennessee. People we’ve worked with, laughed with, fought with, and grown up with. That list is like a roll call for those who have made our lives full and happy.

I hope your Christmas Card List is long this year & your Christmas Season full of love!

Thank you for reading this little blog of mine. I’ll catch ya in 2012.

XOXO

Grace Under Fire

Most of my blog posts are about one of four things: my husband, my family, my friends, or reality T.V. This post is no different. Today I’m gonna tell you a little bit about my best friend Flynn.

 Flynn & I have known each other for 19 years. For the first three of those years, Flynn hated me. I have no idea how we turned a corner and became so close, but we did. And we have been since.

 Flynn & I are opposites. She is private and carefree and artsy. She holds her cards close to her chest, she doesn’t really stress over the details, she takes vitamins, and she doesn’t watch T.V.

 She hardly ever shops, she works multiple jobs, she’s adventurous, and she “doesn’t like sweets”.

 Like I said, opp.o.sites!

 Do any of you remember the show from the 90’s, Grace Under Fire? I think it was about some woman named Grace and all her daily hardships. I can’t really remember. But while I was down in Florida visiting Flynn last week that show popped into my mind. I decided if Flynn had a reality show right now it would be called Grace Under Fire. Flynn is going through an incredibly difficult time right now. If I were in her shoes, I would be a crumpled mess on the floor or a binge drinker or both. But not my Flynnie. She is the picture of grace under fire. She takes it all in stride, she talks it out, she doesn’t allow her sadness to take away her happiness.

 She’s an inspiration.

 Every time I talk to Flynn she says “I’m just lucky I get to _____”. Fill in the blank. In the midst of all this stress and heartache Flynn never stops feeling grateful. She never takes anything for granted. And she hardly ever cries about things. She does what needs to be done and most of the time she does it with a smile on her face.

 Grace.

 She is full of it. It is beautiful to witness.

Friday

You know what I love about Fridays? Besides the prerequisite weekend stuff of course. I love thinking about all the girls getting married tomorrow. I love to think about all the guys and all the gals that are right on the precipice of marriage. How exciting that night was for me. I felt on top of the world. I felt so loved, not just by Josh, but by every single person that made the trip to Charleston for the weekend. How they all gushed over us and clapped every time we walked into a room and laughed and danced and celebrated.

It was such an occasion.

And I just get so darn excited for anyone and everyone about to experience the same. This is what I want to tell the brides and grooms of the world on the Friday before their wedding:

This weekend, this much anticipated fancy affair called a wedding has NOTHING on an actual marriage. Yes, it means special lighting and sappy toasts and the Electric Slide, but it’s the marriage part that’s truly an event. It may be more sweat pants than wedding dress and more Bud Light than Champagne, but it’s also more tender, more intimate, and, if you can believe it, more special than this one single day will ever be.

This isn’t to say you shouldn’t enjoy your wedding. Celebrate it! Obsess over it!  Agonize over the perfect shade of coral! But be sure to realize this is only the beginning. You are starting off the most precious journey with a bang. If you think you are happy now…just wait.

It gets so much better.

Best wishes to all the brides and grooms out there. As my father said the night my brother got married: “May your wedding day be the worst day of your marriage.”

Chevrolet's True Stories

This little story gets me choked up every single time I watch. The dad just kills me.


 LOVE!

http://youtu.be/E_I9fyX0RhI

Kroy Andrew Sauer

Kroy is big brother to my best friend Flynn, little brother to my best friend Brittny, and Executioner of Torment to me in my teens.

In 6^th grade he started a rumor that I stuffed my bra.

On my first day of high school, he picked me up by my brand new Express jeans and stuffed me head first into a trash can.

He nicknamed me ‘Dumbo’ in Spanish class because my ears always stuck through my hair.

I never knew people could actually be stuffed into a locker…until Kroy stuffed me in mine.

He once placed dozens of cigarettes around my desk. I had to stay after school to clean them up because I wouldn’t tell the teacher who did it.

He caught me skinny dipping one summer night and shined every pool light on my scrawny, pre-pubescent body.

The list goes on and on.

 But still, I cannot think of that boy without the corners of my lips curling into a smile. He was completely impossible. And impossible not to love.

 The day he passed away is the #3 Absolute Worst Day of My Life. They day I wrote his obituary is #1.

 I often think about what Kroy would think about me being the one to handle all those details, like his obituary or collecting his personal effects. By no means was I the most important person in Kroy’s life…but we did love so many of the same people- Flynn, Brittny, Nancy, Valerie. It makes me realize how closely we’re all connected. How loving one person means you automatically love the people they love. How you carry people in your heart without even realizing it…and then they’re gone and you feel their absence way more than you ever took the time to feel their presence.

Kroy taught me a lot of things (besides the words to Gimmee that Nutt). He taught me how strong I can be when I have to. He taught me to not take the people in my life for granted. He taught me how to be a better friend.

I think Kroy & I were unlikely friends from the beginning, but somehow, somewhere in the course of our lives, we became just that. Before Kroy passed away I used to imagine Heaven in one particular way: I used to imagine walking up to the gates and seeing my Grandma G waiting for me on the other side. I would be anxious to get through those gates and hug my Grandma again. Now, when I imagine Heaven, it’s mostly the same exact scene, except once I open the gates, a huge bucket of water dumps on my head. I realize in that moment that everyone I love has been waiting for me and Kroy has rigged the whole set-up. Just to torment me for eternity.

So, in the past few months, I’ve had two serious disagreements with two different friends. Close friends.

Of course I cried my eyes out both times.

I’m not very good at confronting an issue with another person. I usually get defensive and I always get emotional.

These disagreements were not connected or similar in any way, but they both share one thing in common. After each incident, after we’d made up and I’d dried my eyes and my sniffling had subsided, my friends both asked the same thing:

“Does this mean I’ll make it into your blog!?!”

And then, with tissue in hand, I started to laugh. And the tides turned. And all was right in the world again.

Is there any better feeling than resolving a conflict with a best friend and walking away feeling closer and stronger then ever?  This is not to say I argue with my friends often. And it is not to suggest my friends are picking fights with me just so I’ll cry and blog about it (at least I certainly hope not!!). But I guess I am starting to realize the merit in confronting issues (the important ones) in my relationships. I have some of THE best friends in the world. Ones I’ve known for more than half my life. And so I’m beginning to realize that these people will continue to love me through the disagreements and the tears. They will always listen to me. They will tell me when I’m wrong. They will accept my apologies and offer theirs.

Then, they’ll turn my tears into fits of laughter.

So, yes Brittny & Rori- I will mention you in my blog. But not because we had an argument and not because I cried, but because you love me like you do.   

The best laid plans

You know when you have the perfect something planned and all you do is look forward to it and build it up in your head? I had one of those today. It was a cold rainy day out so I made turkey meatballs and sauce for a warm yummy meal, Kim K’s Wedding Special Part II was on, I found one of my favorite wines on sale for $10.99, and Josh was working late. This left me with two uninterrupted hours of the perfect ‘me-time’ evening!

But then it all started falling apart.

It started when I spilled a can of tomatoes on my kitchen floor.

Then I go to open a box of spaghetti noodles, picked it up by the wrong end, and they all fell out of the bottom. I just know I’ll be finding dry spaghetti noodles in my kitchen for the next 6 weeks.

Of course, all this mess made me miss some of the wedding activities and now I had no idea why Kim & Kris were fighting three days before their wedding.

So I rushed to put the sauce on, rushed to boil the water for the noodles, and grabbed my wine so I could watch.

Then I stubbed my toe on our stupid coffee table.

Then I found a gnat in my wine.

Then I went to check on the noodles and realized I had turned the wrong burner on.

I made it through all of this without crying, but not without cussing.

I got the tomatoes & noodles cleaned up. I got the water boiling & the noodles cooked. I got the gnat out of my wine & my toe to stop throbbing. And then proceeded to bawl into my meatballs during the second half of Kim K’s special.

I mean, who really thought I’d make it through two hours of anything wedding without crying? Plus, there is a deceased father-of-the-bride involved. I was a goner from the start.  

P.S. I love Bruce Jenner. A lot.

P.P.S. Kim Kardashian is gorgeous even when she is a crying mess.

When my Grandma started losing her memory I came to terms with the fact that she would be a different person in some ways. In many ways, I guess. But I had convinced myself , that through all the issues we would face, she would never forget who I was. I just knew that I, and my brother and my parents and uncles and cousins, were all too important to her for her to forget who we were.

 Last weekend I found out that in many ways I was wrong. But in others I was right.

I didn’t let it bother me when my Grandma started forgetting my name. Both my grandparents have been calling me Katelyn for at least 20 years.  I’ve even gotten a few ‘Brad’s’ and ‘Kim’s’ as well. So no biggie if Grandma can’t remember what to call me. But when I came up for breakfast last Friday and kissed her good morning, I had to hold back tears when she asked me who I was and where I lived. It was like a kick in the gut when I told her I was Randy’s daughter and she asked me who Randy was. I didn’t know how I was going to cope.

 So, I did the only thing I knew to do and relied on humor and patience to get through the day. And we had a good time together. When Josh came up for breakfast she squealed like a little girl, grabbed his face with both hands, and said “You are just so handsome!” over and over. Then patted his belly and told him it looked like he had gained some weight and walked into the next room, leaving my husband with a pout on his face and me reassuring him through my laughter.

Since my Grandpa had to be at church every morning by 6 to start making apple butter, it was up to me to get Grandma & Josh fed and clothed and to the church. On Saturday my Grandma got a distressing phone call from the nursing home about my Aunt Lucille and it sent her all out of whack. She was very confused and upset and all she wanted was my Grandpa. I didn’t know what to do to calm her down. So I grabbed her sweater, made sure she brushed her teeth, and got her in the car. She was crying and rambling and not making much sense. When I stopped to make sure she was uckled up, she grabbed my hand, and said “Thank you for loving me. You are very special. You are very special to me.”

 And that is how I knew in some ways I had been right about her. She may not remember my name or where I live or how we are related, but she does remember that I love her. And that we are special to each other.  She may ask me each morning what I do for work and how long I plan on visiting, but she still told me she was so excited to have me there and she still cried the day I left for home. It is the sweetest relief to realize that the relationship we’ve built can survive a cruel disease that seems to take so much. She may have lost a lot of memories, but it seems the strongest ones have survived. The ones of love. I realize that as we all progress through this ordeal even the strongest of memories may fade. That one day the humor may fade too and it will be only patience and one another that we rely on, but if it’s the love that lasts the longest, I’ll be truly thankful. And I’ll do the remembering for her.

September 30th

I am writing this from my grandparent’s house in Missouri. It’s early. The sun is rising in the backyard and my husband is sleeping in what used to be my Uncle Todd’s room. The old wood-burning stove is to my left, brown shag carpet under my feet. There are six crates of toys on the floor; the same toys my dad, my uncles, my brother, my cousins, and now their babies, have played with. This place is filled with nothing but happy memories.

I have never brought anyone outside my family here before. It meant so much to me to bring Josh to this place, my home.

Of course I also have other homes. There is my home in Georgia, where I get my mail, cook dinners, and sleep each night. There is my home in Virginia, where my high school friends and adopted family and Metjes live. My home in Greenville, where the Billigs and Cooleys and Millers and Merritts live.  But my grandparent’s home is special. Not a thing has changed here in 30 (probably more like 50) years. Seriously, last night we found a Vick’s Vapor rub jar with an expiration date of 1977. Josh pointed out how old all this stuff was when he noticed that none of the medicines or cleaning supplies had directions in Spanish. And Grandma’s container of Comet is advertising a savings of a whopping SIX CENTS!! This house may look a little like one from HOARDERS, but to me it has been a constant place of love and happiness since the day I was born. This is where I hunted Easter eggs, pedaled around in the toy fire truck, made homemade ice cream, and learned how to play poker. I helped water Grandpa’s garden and snap string beans, practiced my layups, and performed talent shows. I opened up presents on Christmas morning, got a million chigger bites in the backyard, and played with my Grandma’s Avon samples without asking. I cannot think of one unhappy time in this house.

And this weekend I am making more memories. Josh will become a part of my home here in Missouri. The four of us are making apple butter together at church this morning. Josh is leaving early to golf with my cousins. I am going to try and talk Grandpa into hiring a housekeeper behind Grandma’s back.  And on Sunday we have our big family reunion. Among the old glass coke bottles and family pictures, candy jars and figurines, there is so much love to be found here.

And so much dust. 

The Dirty Thirty

I would pay to be on facebook just for the birthday messages alone. I’m totally feeling the love today y’all. Each and every one of those messages makes me feel so giddy. Thank you, thank you!

 I’m SUCH a birthday person- my birthday, my loved ones’ birthdays, any birthday! I love an excuse to get together with friends or pick out the perfect present or eat cake or all of the above. It’s just so FUN! And I seriously can’t imagine that the excitement I felt on my 5^th birthday at McDonalds has weakened for any birthday since. It might be immature, but that’s just how I roll.

 So, if I’m a big celebrator of birthdays, then Josh is the Scrooge of birthdays. He just doesn’t really get into it. And that’s okay. So, imagine my surprise when I woke up this A.M. to breakfast in bed and this little treat sitting next to the most delish cinnamon toast crunch bagel EVER.

And I’ve been smiling from ear to ear since. I think I practically skipped through Sam’s Club this morning while I loaded up on 2 lb bags of Chex Mix and White Cheddar popcorn for the weekend. I even told the casher it was my 30^th birthday and listened intently as he told me he thought I was 24. I decided, since it’s my birthday, I would believe him whole heartedly.

 Anyway, I think birthdays are so awesome because they serve as a benchmark for your life. With each year that passes you acquire new friends or reconnect with old ones, you experience successes and failures, set new goals and celebrate accomplishments. It’s the perfect time to make a big deal about LIFE and all that comes with it. That being said, I decided I should try to set some new goals for my next 30 years. Here goes:

1. To be the best wife I’m capable of being. This could probably be goals 1-10!

2. To be a mother. Even though I’m not ready to actually have a baby yet, I am already working on being a good mommy one day. I watch other moms and collect little quotes and pieces of wisdom and think really hard about what kind of person I want my child to be raised by.

3. To worry less.

4. To stop comparing myself to others. I’m getting better, but I’m going to master this in my 30’s!!

5. To be a better arguer…one that doesn’t yell and cry in .5 seconds. I want to be calm and listen and act like a RATIONAL HUMAN BEING during a disagreement.

6. To find a job, no scratch that, a career that makes me happy.

7.  To run a marathon.

8.  To be a better Christian.

9. To travel more… for pleasure!

10. To accept I’m a crybaby and always will be, but to work to ensure I smile and laugh just as often. Maybe more!

All growed up!

So I’ve been super obsessed with Taylor Swift’s album for the last few months. Hopefully, my new ATL neighbors are getting used to seeing me belting out her songs in my car. My particular faves are Mean and Long Live. There is just one song on the whole album I don’t really like called Never Grow Up.  Here is a sample of the lyrics:

“Oh darling, don’t you ever grow up

Don’t you ever grow up, just stay this little.

Oh darling, don’t you ever grow up

Don’t you ever grow up, it could stay this simple.

Won’t let nobody hurt you.

Won’t let no one break your heart.

And even though you want to, please try to never grow up”

Maybe this is offending my one-day-away-from-turning-thirty-years-old feelings, but I just don’t like this song. I am kinda digging this whole growing up thing. I’ve been thinking about it a lot as my 30^th birthday approaches. Yes, I guess childhood is simpler, easier, more innocent, but I think there is real beauty in the wisdom that comes with age.  As a child you live life in the moment, you don’t stop to relish, remember, or appreciate. It may be true that with age comes much responsibility and worry, but I think the trade off is worth it.  

 As a child, I’m sure my father took me out for an ice cream every once and awhile. I’m sure I gobbled up that ice cream and made a mess and enjoyed myself, but I'm just guessing because I don't actually recall ever doing this with my dad. A few weeks ago when my parents were visiting, my dad & I went out for ice cream. Just the two of us. (On a side note, my precious husband stayed home and watched reality tv with my mother. Swoon). And yes, while it’s true that as an adult I did count the calories I was ingesting that night, I also soaked up the entire time with my dad. I appreciated it. I was thankful for it. As a grown up, I understand how lucky I am. And I'm smart enough to cherish it.

 So Tay Tay, even though I love you girl, I’m gonna have to disagree with you. I’m glad life isn’t simple any more. I’m thankful I’ve been hurt and had my heart broken and that I’m in the midst of growing up.

 And while I wish words like cable bill, wrinkle cream, and SPANX were not in my vocabulary, I am certainly thankful my life is full of words like family, friendship, faith, and love.  

 I’m a lucky girl indeed. A lucky, grown up girl.

my perfect day

This is how I know I will spend forever with Josh:

We just spent the last five days in Charleston and had a PERFECT trip.

We spent 8 hours a day on the beach

We ate tons of seafood and went out on the town each night

We visited all the sentimental spots from our wedding week, like Crosby’s, our rehearsal dinner location

And The Summerall Chapel, where we said our vows

And The Francis Marion, where we held our reception.

And we didn’t even try to keep our hands off each other. PDA galore!  

On our last night there we listed three things we love most about our marriage and exchanged them with one another. I cried and Josh laughed and I just knew I was the happiest girl in the world at that moment.

Then we came home. It was rainy and there were tornado warnings (like seriously- sirens were going off in our neighborhood!) and there were four heaps of laundry staring at me.

It was my favorite day of the vacation.

Our house was kind of dark and cozy because of the weather. I had a pot of homemade soup on the stove and we spent the entire afternoon on the couch together. I read a really good book and Josh squeezed my leg or hand or whichever body part I had draped over him at the moment and whispered “God, I love my wife” about every five minutes.

 Any day spent with Josh is a perfect day, whether it’s a sun-filled one spent at the prettiest place on earth or a rainy one on our couch. Life with Josh is perfect. Even when it’s not.

Things I've learned in Year Two

After two years of marriage I am certain of one thing- time flies. Like really flies. Josh & I just got home from celebrating our anniversary in Charleston-, where we met, fell in love (actually fell in love, fell out of love, then fell back into love) and got married. We were both giddy over this trip and this time together.

For each anniversary, I make Josh a photo book of our past year together. I started this before we got married, so this weekend I wrapped our fourth book. Fourth. I know one day we’ll be celebrating our fortieth anniversary and two years or four years will feel like a drop in the bucket, but I am proud of what we’ve done together in our short time as husband and wife. I’ve learned so much:

Like how sometimes it is easier to just do the dishes myself because I’m the only one that can do them “right”.

Or, even though it is the hardest thing EVER, sometimes I need to just shut my mouth.

That Josh’s hugs can cure almost anything that ails me.

That I yell when I’m angry and I need to learn to turn the volume down a notch.

I’ve learned Josh bites his nails and it drives me crazy and I’m going to nag him til he stops!

I’ve learned to buy the Half Caff coffee and dump it in his regular coffee container so he doesn’t notice, but now he sleeps better at night.

I’ve also learned to shop and cook for two.

And what kind of aftershave Josh prefers.

And that I love his friends.

And that now, after already knowing how true love feels, I understand true commitment.

I never understood why people called their husbands/wives/significant others their ‘partners’. I never really liked the sound of that. But now I get it. A partner is defined as “a person who takes part in an undertaking with another” and Josh is definitely that. He is part of all my undertakings- from grocery shopping to life decisions to daydreams. He’s as steady as rock, my husband. And I know we have many more years and much to learn together.

I can’t wait!!!  

"Love actually is all around"

This is a quote from my all-time favorite movie ever- Love Actually. The full quote is: "Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinions starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaking suspicion... love actually is all around."

I love this. It makes me cry every time I read it, hear it, think about it. Except yesterday- when I dropped my parents off at the airport. I thought I wasn't going to cry because I get to see them in about 4 weeks, but I cried anyway. Just a little. Then a lot. I felt so sad to drive away from them. Just five days earlier I had driven this same drive with my parents in tow- excited chatter filling my car. And now I was alone and they were heading back to Virginia. Sad.

But then I thought about this quote. Because of the airport connection of course, but also for inspiration. I've been promising myself recently that I would work to stay positive during my blue moments. I have a habit of wallowing, so I tried to think about this quote for the rest of the afternoon to push myself. To push myself to cheer up. To push myself to not go home and cry into my pillow. To push myself to see the love all around me… even when I am blue.

And it worked! Instead of going home and moping (like I normally would have) I ran some errands, stopped by to see a friend (and her little dog: a major pick-me-up in fur) and went for a run. I started to cheer up as I kept busy and looked for love all around me... I didn't have to look hard.

Day 142

On Sunday, I put all my books aside to do one of my favorite things- read my new Southern Living. This is a recent favorite past time, as my mother just gifted me the magazine about a year ago. My grandmother gifted her the magazine when she married my dad and I remember them fanned out on our sunroom coffee table as a child. I had no interest in these magazines when I was younger. They seemed boring and mom-ish. I guess that’s why I love reading it now. I feel so domesticated. I cherish those Sunday evenings when dinner is cooking in the oven and I’m curled up with my sweat pants on and my husband next to me, reading about the perfect whipped potatoes or pound cake.

One of my favorite writers for SL is Rick Braggs. He is the only other writer that I would come close to comparing to Pat Conroy. He can reduce me to tears with a simple story about rebuilding a car with his son or a road trip with his Aunts. He’s heartfelt and sentimental and quintessentially Southern. So imagine what a wreck I was on Sunday when I snuggled up to read my new magazine and the issue was dedicated to the victims of the tornadoes in Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, and Joplin. And the article was by none other than Mr. Braggs. Josh got another earful, but had to go and get tissues while I read aloud.

I’m ordering all of his books tomorrow. I’m also making that Lemon Pie on the cover.

Day 141

I pretty much read a book a day. Not every day, but most days. Especially when it is summer and I’m unemployed and I have a kick ass porch to chill on. Every now and then I get kind of ADD about books and I start reading like three or four at a time. This is one of those kinds of weeks. I had Pat Conroy’s new book, My Reading Life, at home, but I also had a B&N gift card burning a hole in my pocket. So I went shopping.  I picked up a book I hadn’t heard of yet called The Happiness Project. I thought it sounded like the kind of pick-me-up I needed in the middle of my unemployment funk. I also got Dorthea Benton Frank’s new book about Folly Beach and one of Jennifer Weiner’s paperbacks.  

On Saturday Josh & I drove up to Greenville to visit his family. I drove him crazy the entire trip reading excerpts from Pat’s book. His writing is so achingly beautiful. I am both extremely jealous and in awe of his memory and vocabulary. I can’t help but cry when I read anything he writes and I always feel the need to read his words out loud. Josh was a good sport, turning down NPR every time I wanted to read him a line about Pat’s old English teacher, or how many times he’s read Gone with the Wind, or how books saved his life during Hell Week at The Citadel. He also pretended not to notice my tears.

Days 136-140

Ugh. Last week was a rough one y’all. My job search in Atlanta is not going so well. Even though I know it’s a down economy and I haven’t actually been  looking for very long and I need to keep a positive attitude, I just kind of crumbled last week. I don’t want to sit at home with nothing to do each day. I want to be busy and be around people and earn a paycheck and WORK! But it seems right now the only thing I have to work on is my patience. And my cover letter.

 I tried to blog several times last week about it, but everything I wrote ended up sounding so pathetic. I guess because I spent all of last week being pathetic. So instead of writing about every tear shed let’s just say last week involved a 48 hour period during which I didn’t leave the house, 1 entire caramel apple cake, and two nights crying myself to sleep while Josh rubbed my back.

Even though I lack a positive attitude at times, I do not lack an ability to discuss my feelings…at length. This came in handy last week, when I was finally so sick of myself that I decided to call someone for advice. I ended up calling lots of someones- my dad, my mother-in-law, Brittny, and my mom. And they all did their part to pick me back up.

Dad gave me rational advice, talking to me for almost an hour about where to look, who to speak with, and how to approach my search.

 My mother-in-law offered to take two days off of work to come down to Atlanta and take me shopping.

Brittny did what she does best- she listened.

And my mom said things only a mom can say, things about how I have a light that shines and how much she loves me, and then she gossiped with me about reality TV and celebrities until I felt much better.

And I did. I felt much better.

Now it’s back to the grind of applications and cover letters and references. But I’ve got my team on speed dial if I start to get down.

Day 135

People who constantly talk about their body, or what they ate, or how much they weigh really get on my nerves. So it kinda sucks I am one of these people. This means I constantly get on my own nerves. It’s like I hear myself saying these annoying things and I am telling myself to shut up but then I just keep going on and on about it anyway. Gag me.

So- I made a deal with myself a few days ago that I wouldn’t say anything negative about my body for seven days in a row. My intent was for the 7 days to turn in to 14 days, then 21, and so on and so on.

 I lasted about 48 hours.

What really put a kink in my plan was I had to be measured last week for my bridesmaid dress and I’m not really digging my numbers y’all. So I complained about it, made jokes about it, and googled what measurements constitute the “perfect hourglass figure”. Ugh.

Anyway, Sunday night Josh & I were laying on the floor (our new couch isn’t being delivered until next week- so we have to do everything on the floor. It sucks) and I was analyzing my measurements…again. We were trying to figure out if my ratio fit the hourglass ratio when Josh got really confused with the math. So I said:

“C’mon Josh, did you skip geometry in high school or something?”

To which he replied:

“I don’t know, did you skip P.E.?”

And then he looked at me with this startled look on his face. Because Josh NEVER makes fun of my body or my looks. So he just kind of waited for my reaction.

And I cracked up.

Maybe it was just the shock of him saying something mean to me. Or maybe it was the look on his face after. Or maybe it was just a funny comeback. But I died. And then I got even more tickled when Josh threw his arms around me and between laughs kept repeating “I’m so relieved you are laughing” and “I’m so happy you aren’t mad at me.”

It was adorable.

I’ve never felt more beautiful, rolling around on my fat ass in a fit of laughter and tears. Love him.

Day 134

Today I had to head back to Atlanta. I was sad my trip with Britt was over, but I was missing my man and ready to get home to him. Plus, we had a pool party to go to that evening! 

My trip was long and traffic-y and I was getting bored. As I drove though Aiken, SC (where I lived as a young girl) one of my favorite songs came on the radio, Miranda Lambert’s The House That Built Me. I love this song and I found it kind of ironic that it played as I drove through the place I used to live. But as I listened to the lyrics I realized I have no connection to that song. I don’t really have one place or one home that defines my life or my childhood or where I came from.

Instead, I think it is a whole patchwork of people that built me.

Like my mother and father and brother, who have never let one single day of my life pass by without making sure I know I am loved.

And my friends in Virginia, the old ones who helped the Metjes make a true home in that beautiful valley, and my news ones, who helped the Billigs make their first home together so fun & wonderful.

And my sweet family in Missouri- my grandparents, who continue to teach me what true faith, love, and commitment looks like. And my handsome Uncle Kirk. And my cousins who suddenly transformed from family members to true blue friends.

And my husband’s warm and welcoming family in Greenville- who love me simply because Josh does.

And the Yankees, and gangsters, and teamsters across the country who taught me how to drink in a bar til 2 AM and show up to work at 6. And that you really CAN’T judge a book by its cover.

And the list goes on and on. I spent the rest of my trip home thinking many of the same things I thought on my trip to Charleston, that I am truly blessed with so many people in my life it is overwhelming. It blows my mind that one girl gets to spend her life with so many amazing people. That in a single day I can hug my best friend’s neck, hear an “I love you sweetie” from my dad, kiss my husband, and make new friends at a party.

Life is good, y’all. SUPER good!

Day 131

Ahhhh, what is better than a week in Charleston with your bestie? Well, I guess it would be a week in Charleston with your bestie doing WEDDING STUFF!!! I can’t think of anything I’d rather do then walk down the beach talking about wedding dresses, décor, first dances. It makes me a very happy girl. Therefore, I didn’t expect many, or ANY, tears while in Charleston.

But they came anyway.

I should have expected it, but I didn’t. I have no idea why or how I thought I was gonna get through seeing Brittny in her wedding dress for the first time without crying. At first, there was no hint of a tear. I was all business- looking at the length and discussing the alterations she needed done and asking her what kind of jewelry she wanted. But then- I just stood back and looked at for a second.

Really looked at her.

And I was overcome with emotion. She couldn’t stand still in that dress. She just swayed back and forth and her dress was rustling and she looked stunning.  

Seeing the people who mean the most to you in a truly happy place is the BEST. THING. EVER.

The pretty dress doesn’t hurt either.

Day 130

I woke up tired on Tuesday after a late night with friends, but I was up and at ‘em early because I had to pack and hit the road for Charleston! I was so excited to get there and spend the week with Brittny doing wedding stuff with her!

I called my mom to check in once I got on the road and we ended up talking for an hour and a half…about lots of stuff. Mom had a serious chat with me about my last post and all my absurd fears. And we talked about all the things we hadn’t caught up on since she got home from Italy. It was awesome to talk to her for so long, but after 90 minutes of girl talk Mom needed to get work done & I needed to save my battery, so we said goodbye and I cranked up the radio and thought about how lucky I am- to have a home & a husband I miss every second I’m away, to have a best friend like Brittny who I couldn’t wait to see, and to have a mom like mine, who talks to me and gives me advice and trusts me with her own secrets and problems. I was smiling and crying all at once just thinking about how beautiful life is when you have amazing people to share it with.

Day 127

Today was kind of a bad day. Nothing seemed to go my way. So, instead of carrying on with all the things I had on my to-do-list, I decided to go to the book store to buy a new book.

I got home, changed into shorts, poured a glass of wine, and sat down to read my new Emily Griffin novel, expecting a good, sappy Chick Lit read. Instead, I was balling my eyes out by the end of chapter one.

This is how the first chapter ended: “I close my eyes, wondering whether we are ever truly blindsided my misfortune. Or, if somehow, somewhere, in the form of empathy or worry or premonition deep within ourselves, do we feel it coming?”

I know this may not sound all that sad to some people, but to me, it encompasses almost every minute of every day in my life. Because, and I cannot believe I’ve made it 127 days without blogging about this, I am entirely and completely consumed by fear that something tragic may happen at any moment. It is irrational, but my brain instantly goes to the worst-case-scenario. Constantly. And by constantly I mean ALL. THE. TIME.

Let me give you some examples:

My wedding weekend- when everyone I know & love was on the road or in the air traveling to Charleston. I was CONVINCED someone would have an accident and die. I just knew something horrible would happen.

Or when my parents went to Italy. I was equally afraid of an accident happening to THEM over there as I was of that something bad happening to US over here and we would ruin their trip.

Or when Josh runs to the grocery store and isn’t back in a ‘reasonable’ about of time.

Or when I return a missed call. From ANYONE.

And the list goes on and on.

So, I had a good, old fashioned cry when I read those words today. Being blindsided by tragedy is my biggest fear. So I spend all my energy creating the worst possible outcome. Just to be prepared.

It’s the biggest waste of my time. It doesn't do anything at all to actually prevent a tragedy. But I have no earthly idea how to stop…

Day 126

Alright! We’re all caught up. I hated to rush through such an emotional and sentimental time in my life, but I have got to tell y’all about today!! Oh. My. Gosh.

So, I’ve been trying out different running routes in my new neighborhood lately. I LOVE running here- our new home is FULL of adorable houses. They all have perfect lawns, with kids’ bicycles and luxury cars parked in the garages. Josh & I run by and daydream about living in one someday. Sigh.

Anyway, this morning I woke up early and decided to try out a new route. I was digging the run, feeling good and enjoying myself, and then BAM!!

I bit it, y’all.

And when I say I bit it, I mean I literally fell down and face planted into a patch of ivy. And not only did I face plant into a patch of ivy, but I did it on a super busy road during morning traffic. Once I realized my face was in a freaking bush, I tried to get up quickly and brush myself off, but unfortunately a few nice morning drivers felt the need to GET OUT OF THEIR CARS and check on me.

So embarrassing.

One such driver, a large redneck man in a construction van, also felt the need to yell back to the rest of the crowd “It’s okay y’all. She’s okay. She just wanted to sit down and take a rest for a minute, didn’t ya sweetheart?”

Mortifying.

I didn’t know what to do, so I just smiled, picked two leaves out of my teeth (seriously. TWO LEAVES were in my mouth) and awkwardly decided to keep running. I turned the corner (not really the way to my house, but I had to get out of the line of sight) and that’s when I realized that I really was hurt. My left knee was bleeding through my pants and my right knee was seriously burning. And my pride guys! My pride was majorly hurt! So what did I do? I cried. I kept running. But I also cried.  I did both until I reached my front door. Then I went straight for the phone & called my mom.

On the bright side, I'm absolutely positive I made about 30 people's drive to work A LOT funnier today. You're welcome Atlanta.

Days 111-125

Again, for the sake of catching up, I am going to speed through the remaining days. Obviously, I got home from Philly and moved to Atlanta during this time, so there were PLENTY of tears flowing. The worst day though was Thursday, June 30. I left Philly that day to head home for my very LAST day in Charlottesville. Josh had spent the day packing up our moving truck and we were heading to Atlanta the following morning. So when my train arrived in Charlottesville, I went straight to dinner with Josh and our closest Cville friends, Carrie & Mike. We had a wonderful evening, but I was dreading our goodbyes. Even Josh got choked up as we were leaving and both Carrie & Keri were a mess! But Mike put it perfectly when he said to me “Carrie & I really liked Charlottesville when we moved here, but meeting you & Josh made it home for us.”

Ditto Carrie & Mike. Ditto.

The rest of our moving week was crazy. I was exhausted. And usually the tears come quickly when I am tired, but the week went really well. I didn’t cry all that much. Maybe because we were so busy. Or maybe, now that our goodbyes were behind us, we were more relaxed and excited to begin our new adventure. Whatever the reason, Josh & I had an awesome first week in Atlanta together! We unpacked, drank beer on our new porch, and bought a new car! A momentous week for the Billigs!!

Days 101-110

Oh my gosh y’all- I have got to speed through these past few weeks to we can get to TODAY. You are gonna DIE. So very quickly:

Monday was my last full day being in Charlottesville. I had to pack for my trip to Philly, I had to pack my entire closet, bathroom, bedroom, and anything else Josh could live without while I was gone, and I had Josh’s farewell dinner at UVA. And I was sick. So I basically cried my way through everything. I cried while packing, I cried on the phone to Josh, I cried when I realized how much I had to do and all I really wanted was a nap, and the list goes on.

On Tuesday I arrived in Philly to work AND to see Brittny, Flynnie, and Marci- I was very excited, but still sick. I took the train up that afternoon and dragged myself into bed to sleep until Brittny arrived that evening. Josh’s phone call woke me up around 5 and I felt to sick and sleepy and sorry for myself that I cried to him on the phone for a little bit until he told me I should just go back to sleep. So I did.

On Wednesday Brittny decided to keep a running list of what made me cry for the week. We were so swamped for work that I knew I wouldn’t be able to blog so Britt decided to kind of ghost write for me. I am going to copy her list word for word:

Wed 6/22 Parents are leaving for Italy. Said my goodbyes. Cried real hard.

Thurs 6/23 Britt made me cry.

Sat 6/25 Josh made me cry. He texted me “we are going to Atlanta & I love you, love you, love you.”

Sun 6/26 Josh made me cry. Again.

Mon 6/27 My mom emailed me from Italy. So happy to hear from her. It brings tears to my eyes. I love my parents!

Tue 6/28 My parents called me from Italy. Yay! So excited to hear from them but it made me cry. I can’t believe they won’t be home when I move to ATL. I will miss them. I don’t want to move away from my parents. I’m almost a 30 yr old grown up and I miss my mom & dad. WAH!

Thanks Britt! For keeping track. I left out the part you asked me to leave out, but I still have it in writing to use as blackmail later J Love you!!

Day 100

Because June was so crazy for us and it was our last weekend in Charlottesville, my entire family came over to our house for Father’s Day. I felt bad making the two fathers in my life (my dad & my brother) make the hike over the mountain on the day they are supposed to relax, but I was thankful to have extra time at the house to pack. Plus, they brought moving boxes with them! Win - Win.

Anyway, we had a great afternoon. We ordered a buffet of Chinese food, opened gifts, played cards, and ignored the fact that I was moving soon. My parents were leaving for Italy in just a few days and my Father’s Day gift to him was some travel gear, including one of those passport holders you wear around your neck, under your shirt. Dad put it on right away and wore it the rest of the day. Which meant my brother and I made all kinds of jokes about our dorky, tourist dad. It was fun.

Until we had to say goodbye. I immediately started crying, which was expected, but then my mom burst into tears right away and I couldn’t handle it. My niece and nephew didn’t quite know what to do and my dad just held me extra tight and extra long.

And then my brother got back out of the car and came around to me and said “I told you this the day you got married and my offer still stands- one phone call and I’m there” then he hugged me and got in the car and my whole family waved and waved as they drove away. And I stood on the sidewalk of our house, crying and crying into Josh’s chest.

Day 98 & 99

And so, it is Friday. My last day of Grad School. I have learned so much.

After a day of final presentations, projects, and a final exam, I left Liberty to head back to Charlottesville. It would be my last weekend there. I was supposed to spend the whole weekend packing and preparing for our move, but instead I made lots of plans with friends so I could say goodbye. Of course, goodbyes = tears. Always.

My first goodbye was Friday night. I hugged my friend Leah goodbye and I was pretty well-behaved. I didn’t make a big deal about it and I was proud of myself for being grownup about it all. Saturday morning I said goodbye to my friend Carter. I wasn’t as controlled the second time around and I realized things were only going to get worse. Sunday was Father’s Day. And the day I would say goodbye to my family.

Day 97

I had the opportunity to right a wrong the next day when I ran into K again in the hallway. This time she was walking with another person and she didn’t even look up to see me standing there. I could have gotten away with not talking to her again, but after a quick internal debate with myself, I knew I needed to say hello. I called her name and was seriously expecting to see judgment in her eyes when she looked up. I sound so stupid to myself now. Because I received quite the opposite reception.  Her face lit up and she seemed genuinely pleased to see me. I could have stayed and talked to her forever. She has always seemed, to me, pretty and warm from afar, but she is even prettier and warmer close up. My worries and feelings of inadequacy were instantly soothed by her friendly chatter. I seriously underestimated K.  I realized the judgment I was so scared to see in her eyes was really coming from within. K not only accepted me as someone who belonged in those Liberty hallways, she was thrilled to see me there. She provided me with a sense of confidence I could not, for some reason, find in myself. I will forever be grateful that I found the courage to simply say hello to her, because I gained a sense of camaraderie and belonging during that brief conversation. 

Later that evening I went for a run. I was thinking about my conversation with K, about how beautiful Liberty campus is, and how thankful I feel to have found this place. Here I am, running and pouring sweat, thinking about my struggles to feel adequate and good. I was talking to God in my head, saying over and over “Thank you for leading me here. I am so happy to be in this place” and suddenly, in my own head, in a very soft voice, I heard “Keri, I am happy you are here.”

And I stopped running.

I started crying.

Because it had not hit me until that very moment that not only was I pleased with where I was in life, but God is pleased with me. I am making him happy. He is happy to have me. He is not asking me to make up for past mistakes. I do not have a penance to pay. He knows my heart. He knows I am where I am supposed to be. And he is happy.

This was such a revelation to me. I don’t need to stay up at night counting my regrets and crying over mistakes. I do not need to carry them around. I have asked for forgiveness. It has been granted. And just like K, God smiles so warmly at me and says “I am happy you are here.”

Day 96

Oh my gosh guys- it has been too long! I have been yearning to blog these past few weeks, but life has been so busy! We have much to talk about, but I am just going to pick up where I left off. Just to refresh, I was finishing up my last week at Liberty the last time I wrote. Thankfully, I actually wrote these posts before life got so busy. I am not sure I could have captured the emotion I felt if I had waited. So here goes…

On Wednesday I spotted someone I went to high school with walking down the School of Ed. hallway at Liberty. Let’s call her K. She was on the phone and I used it as a good excuse to avoid her…why?  I wasn’t sure, but for some reason I didn’t want her to see me. I felt weird and silly for avoiding her and it kind of bothered me all afternoon.

I was laying in bed that night thinking about it and I started to analyze why I acted that way. At first I blamed it on the ‘off week’ I’ve been having, but eventually I had to admit to myself the real reason- I felt uncomfortable. Because, you see, while K, in my mind, completely belongs at Liberty University, I haven’t quite convinced myself that I do. K always conducted herself well during our high school years. She was sweet and smart, and as far as I know, very well behaved. Whereas I was a dramatic, rebellious, unconfident teenager who conducted herself in quite a few ways that, looking back, make me feel embarrassed and ashamed. So I immediately looked at her walking down these quite Liberty hallways and thought to myself “She belongs here. And I do not.”

It made me sad to have those thoughts because I have fallen in LOVE with Liberty. The people. The campus. The feeling I have here- of peacefulness, of commitment, of faith. It has been a true blessing to attend school here, at this beautiful place. But sometimes, for some reason, I tend to beat myself up when I am here, surrounded by all this goodness. I think about all the mistakes I’ve made in the past and all the things I wish I had differently, and I feel unworthy. And that is why I avoided K today- I felt unworthy in her presence.

I stayed up way past my bedtime, tossing and turning, and thinking about all the things I wish I had done differently. I never understand people who say they have no regrets, because I do. I know I’m supposed to think differently- that all mistakes are learning opportunities and I couldn’t have gotten where I am today if I had done it differently, but I just don’t agree. I have regrets and I wish I could have gotten to where I am today by taking a different, straighter route. I thought about a lot of things that night and a few of them made me cry. Maybe it is that I’m lonely this week. And stressed. And ready to graduate. For quite some time that night I beat myself up about things I could not change. I felt bruised the next morning.

I didn’t know that Wednesday night that I would gain much more than a graduate degree by Friday.