August 27, 2010

Starting Over

Posted in Best Wedding Ever, Emo Day, Grown-Up Life, Military Wifery, Story of My Life, The Amazing G, Whiskey Night at 10:02 AM by TKWatson

Dear Reader,

You may (or may not) have noticed that I’ve been a wee-bit MIA the past couple weeks.  Please don’t take it personally.  The highway of life spit a big huge gigantic rock at my windshield two weeks ago, and I’ve been working to pick  up the shattered pieces since.

What happened you ask?  Well… I’d rather  not go into details, both for his sake and mine, but the conclusion of the story is this…

G and I called off our wedding.

And we broke up.

It’s been a rough few weeks.

Our relationship ended amicably, and we still care very much about one another… it just didn’t turn out quite as we had planned.  So I’ve taken off my ring [insert huge sobs here] and am trying to figure out how to start over.  Among my efforts to redefine my life as a single, not-so-military-wife, has been to move my blog.  For anyone still following me after I left you high and dry with no pink fluffy hearts or crazy talk, please follow me on over to my new blog at:

Please keep in mind that my new blog is a work in progress.  I’ve switched platforms in this move to a self-hosted version of wordpress.  And this self-hosted thing is KICKING MY BUTT.  (sob… someone help me… it’s dark in here! sob. oh… uhh…. ) But… I’ll figure it out.  Just don’t hate me in the mean time, um-k?  Thanks.

I debated whether or not to move my content from Letters to Half a World Away or not.  In the end, I decided to take it all with me.  I don’t want to sweep my life with G under a rug and pretend like it never happened.  It did happen.  And it was good.  I needed a new “home” for my content because I’m no longer writing to half a world away, but since I can’t edit (nor would I edit) the content of my life, I’m choosing not to edit the content of my blogging life either.

It may be a few  more days before I actually have new content up on my new blog, but head on over anyway and check out my previous posts about my life with G if you haven’t done that here.  I’ll be back soon.  Pinky Promise.

Signing off (with my would-have-been name),



July 17, 2010

If I Die Young

Posted in Awesome God, Emo Day, Grown-Up Life, Story of My Life at 4:34 PM by TKWatson

I heard this song for the first time recently.  My heart damn near broke in two.

We met in high school and dated for a short while in the summer and fall after graduation.  He broke my heart into a million little pieces when he left me.  For years, every now and then, he would somehow stumble back into my life, for just a brief moment and I would once again feel an inexplicable surge of emotion for this person that I barely knew.  Then my heart would break again when, every time, he disappeared just as soon as he had come along.  For years, even in his absence, I loved this boy; the fire that once was, I managed to quell to embers, but it never quite burned out.  Not even after I fell in love with someone else.  For years, I was sure that he would always be “the one that got away”; I was sure that I would spend the rest of life wondering where he was, how he was, and why he hadn’t loved me the way I loved him.

Then one day, out of the blue and after several years, he called me.  This was different then all those times he had momentarily popped back into my life.  He took me out.  He told me how sorry he was for all the wasted years.  He told me he loved me, and had for all this time.  He said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

I bought it.  Hook.  Line.  And Sinker.

The two months that followed were the strangest of my life.  Things were amazing in the beginning.  A fairytale come true, or so I thought.  But our relationship quickly deteriorated as I uncovered lies, secrets, and a person who didn’t meet the standards of the pedestal I had this man on for so long.

Somehow, I managed to walk away.

This story line seems so implausible to me that sometimes, it’s hard to believe it really happened.  But it did.  And I thank God everyday for it.  The day I walked away from him, the power that he had held over me for so many years, finally broke.  I no longer had to wonder “what if”. I no longer had to love him in my dreams.  Although my heart was once again shattered into a million little pieces, I knew that this time I would fully heal.

Two months later, G and I started dating.  For the first time in six years, I felt that I was able to give my heart to someone ahundred percent, without having a little piece of it left behind for this other man.  The irony in this is that the weekend of my first date with this person was the same weekend that G had asked me to fly to Colorado to attend his senior ring dance with him, before we started dating, and I said no.

In August of 2009, just four months after our roller-coaster two month reunion, the man I’d spent more than five years of my life loving, passed away.  He was 23 years old.  I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t devastated at the news of his passing.  Although I hadn’t spoken to him in months, no longer had any desire to be with him, and had already found the true love of my life, the death of someone so young, especially someone I had so recently loved, was not easy.  One final time, my heart broke over this man.

I always see God’s hand in the story of my life, and this piece of my story is no exception.  I know that God allowed this man back into my life so that I could have the opportunity to finally be rid of my desire for him.  So that G could have all of me, like he deserves.

I also know God allowed it so that his death wouldn’t destroy me.  His death was a tragedy that I was deeply affected by, but if I’d never had the opportunity to realize that I loved an image, rather than a real person, I’m not sure I would have survived his death with my sanity intact.

Today, almost a year after his death, I uncovered one more lie this man told me.  A lie that puts into question everything he had told me about loving me for so many years.  Though I am a little bit saddened by this, for the first time since meeting him when we were just eighteen, my heart didn’t break this time.  I guess it’s pretty much impossible for someone to break your heart when another man holds it safely in the palm of his hand.

I will always remember this person that I loved for so long, and I will always feel a twinge of pain at the loss that his family, and this world suffered through his death.  He was so young, and had so much life left to live.  Like the song says… “It’s the sharp knife, of a short life…”

Rest in Peace, Nicholas James Fenney. 1986-2009.

July 14, 2010

I Have BIG Dreams

Posted in Emo Day, Grown-Up Life, Whiskey Night at 12:29 AM by TKWatson

I’ve always been one of those people with a PLAN…  One of those people with a VISION…  One of those people with a GOAL, DANG-IT!  You know the type… “Type A”, Firstborn (birth order psychology is one of my favorite subjects.  Note to self – excellent idea for a post topic…). I like lists. I like schedules.  I like order, stability, and consistency in a big bad way.

When I was a Sophomore in High School, I decided that my goal was to graduate in the top ten of my high school class.  (Don’t ask me why I decided this… I think it may have had something to do with an erroneous (and WAY ridiculous) belief that doing so was the only ticket to a full ride scholarship to the in-state school of my dreams… ASU.  (Excuse me while I laugh at my former self… HAHAHAHA… oh.  uh-hem.)  Little did I know that they practically hand out full ride scholarships at ASU to anyone who can spell their name correctly on the SATs… I’m so proud of my alma matter… school spirit, yo!)   Anywho… Let me tell you something… I worked my BUTT off to try and reach that goal.  (Mom and Dad… remember all those nights you had to talk me off the ledge as I sat crying in front of the television, having a nervous breakdown, shoveling large amounts of ice cream into my face because I was paralyzed with anxiety over the MASSIVE amounts of homework (and Mock Trial stuff) I had to do?  Good times, right?!  Riiiight.)  The first semester of my senior year, I almost lost it.  But luckily (in an exciting twist of events!), those just behind me in the race to the top (ten) had senioritis even worse than I did annnddd they saved my ass by slacking off at least as much as I did, allowing me to maintain my spot despite the slip in my GPA.  (Thanks for that, guys.)  In the end, I managed to graduate NUMBER TEN (in my class of around 450)!  That’s right BIOTCHES!  It might have been the bottom of the top, but it was still in the top ten.  That was good enough for me.  (I might be crazy and a perfectionist, but I’m also WAY too lazy, and not quite genius enough, to have tried to catch those above me… numbers 9 and above were like crazy smart mutant children who could do calculus in their sleep.  I didn’t need to be the best that badly, yo.)

Then came college.  I started out as a Psych major. (side-note… when I originally tried to type psych, I actually typed pscyho… Freudian slip…?  Perhaps.  Seriously hilarious in so many ways?  Definitely.)  I decided somewhere around the first semester of my sophomore year that psych wasn’t the right answer to the question “what’s your major going to be?” because I couldn’t do much with a Bachelors in psychology except go straight to grad school and I really wasn’t sure I wanted to do that.  So, I decided I wanted something that I could use straight out of undergrad.  Lights flashed before my eyes and I saw the words “BUSINESS DEGREE” in neon.  (Mostly because I couldn’t think of anything else that would meet my criteria and I was too lazy to do research on it.  Plus, I figured I could make decent money with a business degree.)  Problem was, the business degree and psych degree had completely different pre-requisites.  So… switching majors would have meant that I’d wasted a year and a half of my life AND a year and a half of that scholarship that I’d work so dang hard for.  So I did the only logical thing I could think of.  My new goal became to finish TWO majors.  AND I had to finish them both in four years (before my scholorahip (that I’d work so dang hard for) ran out).  So I kept taking the courses for the psych degree and started taking business courses.  I quickly fell in love with Economics and decided this would be my business concentration.  (The irony here?  I had NO idea what I could do with an econ degree.  Turns out… not a whole helluva lot in the state of Arizona.  Luckily, I managed to make it work.  Now if I could only figure out how to make it work in Alaska…)  Somehow, I managed to finish my undergrad with two degrees, while working twenty hours a week during the school year and full time during breaks, being actively involved in a few on-campus activites, having a personal life (sorta), and graduating magna cum laude.  All in four years.  Maybe not the greatest feat of all times, but I was pretty proud of myself.

Then there was the real world.  My vision for the real world was to become a powerhouse woman in the world of business.  First goal for achieving said vision was… to get a job.  A good job.  So… I took the professional route.  I Googled “consulting firms in Arizona”.  (Super awesome method, I know…)  Eventually I stumbled upon the BSBH and decided that THIS.WAS.IT.  This was the job I HAD.TO.HAVE.  I practically stalked the recruiter for the BSBH (oddly enough, said recruiter is now the person that I work most directly for…).  I talked to every person I could think of and pulled every trick I’d been taught in business school 101 (that was actually a real class at ASU… except it was 301…) to try and win the hearts of those in charge of hiring at the BSBH.  I studied for the interview.  I asked questions and gave no-bull-shit, bull-shit answers during the interview. I sent thank you notes to the interviewers.  I guess I must have done something right because when I graduated with my two degrees in four years, I also graduated with a job offer from a fairly prestigious consulting firm, the BSBH.

So… life was perfect.  I’d accomplished all the things that I’d set my mind to since high school.  I was on top of the world.  Now all I needed to do was to mystify these people with my brilliance and rise quickly to being the youngest female CEO of some major corporation in the history of corporations.  Unnnntil shit hit the fan and I realized that I hated the BSBH, and everything it stood for, with the fiery passion of a thousand million suns.  Now add to that the moment that I said “yes” to G thereby dedicating myself to becoming a military wife, not living in any one place for longer than four years at a time for the next [insert some unknown medium to big number here] years, and being almost guaranteed to be living at least several states away from my beloved family for same number of years.  Multiply all of that by the confusion surrounding mine and G’s current living situation (discussed here) and the complications that abound with regard to me moving to Alaska anytime before mid year next year, if I don’t manage to miraculously get a new job in Alaska by the time we get married in October.  Know what that equals?  It equals one helluva confused blonde — that’s what it equals.  (I’ve never been that great at math… good thing I majored in something that revolves around mathematical concepts and work in a place where math is the name of the game, huh?)

Suddenly, for the first time in almost ten years, I have no plan.  I have no vision.  I have absolutely no goals.   There is one thing and one thing only that I know.  I love G… and he is worth it all.  But the fact remains, I have no idea what to do with myself.  I’ve had so many crazy-headed ideas in the last year and a half or so, it’s absurd.  I’ve wanted to open my own clothing boutique, and then I wanted to take that one step further and start my own clothing line.  (I still pink fluffy heart the latter idea, except that I can’t draw to save my life so I have about as much chance at making it happen as a monkey has of making it in a canoe across an alligator infested swamp.)  Then I wanted to be a stay-at-home trophy wife.  Until I remembered that G and I couldn’t pay 100% of our joint bills on 50% of our joint income.  Next, I wanted to be a commercial pilot for about 3.25 seconds until I realized the thousands of reasons why that would be the worst job ever for me.  (I doubt I could physically handle it, plus I’d probably hate the schedule as much as I currently hate my work schedule (or lack there of) of at the BSBH.  See: “I like order, stability, and consistency in a big bad way” above.  Oh… and nights and weekends.  What I’m saying really is I like the 8 to 5 thing…)  Lastly, (and I actually attempted to go for this one) I wanted to get a virtual position with the BSBH (only in a corporate admin-type position rather than a consulting position… which I think would have sucked much less, especially given that it was a virtual position) that I felt was the answer to all of my problems.  I had high hopes of getting it, though my gut told me that it was a long shot.  Alas, God, I guess, has other plans because I didn’t get it.  (When I’m feeling a little blue about this, I remember how much I wanted my current position at the BSBH, and how much I now wish that God had’ve told me “no” to that wish; I just figure he knows better than me.)  So… now what?!


I’m going to be a bloggess extraordinaire!!!  Writing posts that move the hearts of the entire free world while simultaneously making people roll on the floor with laughter, and that eventually leading to writing deals, motivational speaker appearances, talk shows, and someday… Hollywood on the big screen.  (Told you I dream big…)

Ok… so… making a career out of being a blogger probably isn’t as easy as it sounds.  And it’s probably less than probable.  ( I guesstimate there is about a .000000001% chance of it ever coming to fruition.)

So… back to  square one.  What am I going to do?  No plan, no vision, no goal (aside from the goal of setting a goal…).

The one thing I have is the knowledge that I’ve always managed to reach my goals before.  Once I figure out what it is I’m working towards, I can do it if I give it my all.  I just hope that by the time I figure it out, I still manage to consciously remember that about myself.  Some days that particular memory gets lost in all the confusion; I’m starting to forget to remember.  I need something to remind me before I forget all together and can’t find the confidence to dream big anymore.

I wish it were really this easy…


July 12, 2010

Things I Pink Fluffy Heart Monday

Posted in Emo Day, Pink Flully Heart Day at 12:02 PM by TKWatson

It’s Monday again.  Unfortunately.  I have the Monday blues.  Again.  I find that every Monday gets harder and harder.  My job at the BSBH (“blood sucking black hole”) is weighing on my pretty heavy these days.  I can’t wait to get away from it.  I only wish I knew when that might be happening…

Anywho… in an effort to brighten Monday and remind myself of the good things in life, here are three things that I pink fluffy heart.


PUPPIES!  The puppy above happens to be my very own when she was about two months old.  (She’s about a year and a half now.)  She’s definitely the cutest puppy EVER.  Well… actually… my sister’s puppy is also MAJORLY adorable.  We’ll call it a tie.  Anywho… I was never really much of a dog person, what with being deathly allergic to them and all, until I discovered that poodle mixes are hypoallergenic.  So I got me a maltipoo and my life has never been the same.  Sure, puppies are bad sometimes, but when your fiance lives half a world away, a warm puppy to sleep next to is the next best thing.  I really do believe there is something to all the hype about pets being good for the soul.  When I’m feeling a little blue, a hug from my puppy is really comforting.  I seriously pink fluffy heart cute little puppies, and especially mine.

2. (Source:

Weddings.  Maybe it’s because I’m in the midst of planning my own wedding, but I LOVE weddings.  I could look at wedding photos for hours.  If I wanted to deal with bridezillas and work every weekend of my life, I’d totally be a wedding planner.  (Unfortunately, I don’t have much patience for bridezillas or working weekends.  Meh.)  I love the idea of weddings; two people dedicating their lives to one another and sharing such a special moment with friends and family.  I also majorly pink fluffy heart all things wedding decor.  All-in-all weddings just totally make me happy.  (Of course… my wedding will be the BEST EVER.  And make me WAY happier than any other wedding…)

3. (Source: Durham University ISA)

Ballroom dancing.  Ok… so I don’t look nearly that amazing when I dance, but… I’m not half bad.  I could still afford a lot of training with regards to my technique, but mostly I just have fun with dancing.  One thing I have wished and hoped and prayed for since learning to dance was a significant other who could and/or would dance with me.  Honestly though, I never in a million years imagined I’d actually find such a man given that non-gay, non-creepy male dancers are few and far between.  But… low and behold, God blessed me with a man that not only can dance, and loves to dance as much as I do, but is also half Latin and therefore has gorgeously sexy Latin moves to twirl me around on the dance floor with.  (Many thanks to my mother-in-law-to-be for passing on her Puerto Ricano genes to her amazing son.)  I absolutely pink fluffy heart getting all dressed up and “gettin-jiggy-wit-it” with G on the dance floor.  Dancing is hands down my favorite past-time of all time, especially when it is with my beloved.  (I also pink fluffy heart jazz dancing as a solo activity, but I haven’t done much of that since High School.)

So there you have it.  Three more things that I pink fluffy heart.  (I guess you didn’t necessarily need the pen and paper to make a “TK’s wishlist” this time, since none of these things are really something that can be purchased.  Still… it’s always good to take notes…)

Happy Monday!

June 28, 2010

As the Old Adage Goes…

Posted in Emo Day, Whiskey Night at 12:00 AM by TKWatson

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  If that doesn’t cut it, add some vodka.  Or whiskey.


I’ve always liked to think that I’m a pretty tough cookie.  In the last few years, life has really thrown me some curve balls.  My world has seen one major life change after another, some good, some bad, but none that came without copious amounts of stress.  I’ve always seemed to come out the other side stronger, braver, maybe a little smarter, and surely stickin’ my tongue out and telling life that it ain’t gonna beat me yet. But sometimes it seems like it gets harder and harder not to just give up and let life win.  Sometimes I get tired of fighting.  Sometimes I feel like I just might go bat-shit crazy, let them lock me up in a padded room, and call it good.

I look ahead at the next few years of my life and all I can see is more change.  I’m thrilled about the good parts, but know that the choices I’ve made for my future, don’t come without a cost.  When I start to wonder if I’ll be strong enough to make it through the rough parts, I begin to question if I’m really as tough a cookie as I imagine myself to be.

There are a few things that keep me going when I start to feel my sanity slipping away.  The first is my Lord, my King, my Savior;  He promises to always provide me with strength and to never give me more than I can handle with Him by my side.  The second is the hope that I have for my marriage and the joy I find in my love for G; his arms and his smile are more than enough fuel to keep me truckin’.  Finally, is the unending support I am provided by my family; I know I can always count on them to help see me through.

Remembering these things is sorta like making lemonade.  It might not be exactly taking the bad and turning it to good, but it is finding the good in the mist of the bad.  I think that as long as I can do that, I can make it through, no matter how grim things may seem.

I might drink a few Tennessee Iced Teas along the way to smooth out the ride…