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 25, 2010

A House in Disarray

Posted in Awesome God, Grown-Up Life, Story of My Life at 2:34 PM by TKWatson

When I graduated from ASU two years ago, I entered a period of my life where I was unsure of who I was, where I was going, and what my place in this world was.  I’ve already talked a little bit about this here.  In an effort to figure all this out, and I think, in a way trying to make a place for myself, I made a couple of really big changes in my life.  The biggest change I made was buying a house.

Some people thought I was too young to be buying a house, especially all on my own.  Some thought I hadn’t been in a financially stable job for long enough to take on this risk.  Luckily for me, the FHA loan people disagreed.  Trying to buy a house was a big struggle.  I had two offers fall through and the house I did end up in, almost fell through several times.  It is definitely in the top three most stressful things I’ve done during my lifetime.

In the end though, I was blessed beyond measure.  In January of last year, I finally closed on my house and moved in a week later.  My house is so much more than I ever dreamed of getting when I initially set out to buy a place.  Granted, it has flaws, and it certainly isn’t an expensive home even in it’s best condition; the neighborhood is good, but not great, and it needed some work when I moved in.

But I had big plans for this house.  I planned on being here a good while and slowly but surely making updates, fixing things… basically turning this house into my home.  I bought all new appliances prior to moving in because the ones that were here, really weren’t usable. My dad spent many hours fixing every last door in the house, since, for some strange reason, not a single one of them was hanging on the hinges correctly (What a weird problem, eh?).  In addition, some work was done to the backyard, drywall was fixed in the laundry closet, faulty faucets were replaced, etc. etc.  Then I started running out of money. (I was hoping that I’d find a money tree in the backyard when I moved in, but my parents claim those don’t really exist… who knew?) So, I took a break from my fix-er-up plans to let the funds start pooling again.  Then life happened, I started dating and eventually got engaged to a man that lives 3,500 miles away, and decided I wanted a big beautiful wedding, mix in a little bit of lazy on my part, add some procrastination, and what you have is the current disarray that is my house.  I did eventually managed to replace the flooring throughout the house (mostly out of necessity) and very recently replaced the A/C unit (out of DIRE necessity).

My house is still very livable, but if you look around, you can see all the half finished projects lying about.  My downstairs is half painted.  (And by half painted, I do NOT mean that some of the walls are painted and some are not; I mean that about three quarters of the downstairs walls are partially painted, and the rest are not painted at all.  (Including one wall where I slathered a medium size splotch of red paint, decided I didn’t like the color, and have yet to go pick out a new color and paint over it… There is also some paint on the ceiling where I originally planned on painting the ceiling and then changed my mind and now have a big mess of… What the hell happened here?!) I haven’t even begun painting in the upstairs.  The downstairs has no baseboards thanks to the painting fiasco.  I do not have a single picture or wall decoration actually hanging anywhere in my house; what I DO have, is a zillion pieces of wall art sitting on the floor near where they are intended to be hung.  The landscaping in my front yard is in desperate need of some help.  I have a lamp that I purchased shortly after I moved in that was to be hung above my kitchen table and has never actually been out of the box to date.  Plus, if you count all of the things that I had plans to do, but got scraped in light of changes in budgeting and my eventual move… like… replacing the bathroom cabinets, mirrors and hardware, refinishing the kitchen cabinets, replacing the “boob” lights  in the kitchen (Picture two of these, put side by side…), building a mantel and hearth for the fireplace in my living room… my house is pretty much a failed construction project.

Although it is a little bit sad for me that I likely won’t get the chance to do all the things I had planned for this house, since I won’t be living in it much longer and will probably be renting it out, my main concern is just putting it back into a “normal” condition before I move.  Ya know… things like… making sure each wall has only one color on it…

I think the point of my story here, is that the current state of my house, in many ways represents the current state of my life.  Everything is a little bit a mess, not quite as I had planned, and I’m just trying to figure out how to get it back into some state of normalcy.

I say all of this because I listened to a very thought provoking sermon today by a guest pastor at my church entitled “Who R U?”  (Listen here.)  The point of the message is basically just that God has a plan for all of our lives.  Sometimes we may not be 100% certain of what those plans are, but God is still in control.  While listening to this sermon, I had a sort of epiphany.  I realized that sometimes God takes us to a place where we are forced to let go of our own plans, so that we can fully embrace His plans.

I believe that this is exactly the place God has me in right now, and it is exactly where he needs me to be.  For so long I’ve been struggling to figure out who I am on my own terms, and God has been waiting for me to start trying to figure out how I am according to His terms.  I realized while thinking about this that every time during the last several years that I have taken my burdens and laid them at his feet, giving up on my own plans for my life, God has shown me that his plans are bigger and better than my own.

So, in light of this epiphany today, I give up the current disarray of my life to God.  My life currently looks like the downstairs paint job of my house… the “What the hell happened here?!” paint job.  But I know that God has it under control.  He’s just waiting until the timing is right, just like I’ve been waiting until the timing is right to put my house back together.  AND God is a MUCH more awesome designer that I, so I’m sure that when all is said and done, my life will be so much cooler than this house.

Although… I will say… that new A/C I just bought with two limbs and my first born child, does keep this house pretty amazingly dang cool…

July 22, 2010

Details for the Curious Minds

Posted in Best Wedding Ever, Grown-Up Life, Story of My Life, The Amazing G at 10:11 PM by TKWatson

I’ve talked about the fact that G and I are getting married in October, but I have yet to actually give any details.  So… here’s a few for any curious minds out there.  I don’t want to give away too much just yet.  But let’s just say… this is totally going to be the best wedding ever.  At least in my opinion.

The Date: October 16, 2010.

The date we (read: I with G’s nod of approval… because he is so good to me) originally wanted was September 25, because this is both my grandparents and late great-grandparents wedding anniversaries; I thought having the same anniversary as both of them would be pretty cool.  Plus, my grandparents have been married over fifty years, and my great-grandparents were married over fifty years as well — good luck date?  Couldn’t have hurt…  But alas, as I was e-mailing the wedding coordinator at our venue to reserve that date, she was busy booking another couple on said date.  Oh tragic irony.  (Ok… actually… this isn’t tragic irony even a little bit.  Nor is it really irony.  Whatev.  It sounds awesome.)  I was seriously heartbroken.  Luckily, I managed to recover.  Eventually.

We (read: I with G’s nod of approval) ended up choosing October 16, because… well… it was the only date available this year, at the location we (can we all just agree that when I say “we”, I really mean “I”?) picked, that wasn’t a holiday or a date when half our guest list would be unlikely to come.  Unfortunately, the date we chose in the end, happens to be six days after my birthday.  But… I decided that this minor inconvenience wasn’t worth waiting until next year to have our wedding, since G really wanted to have it this year.  Since G is being amazing, per usual, and going along with my plans for a dream wedding, I figured I could at least go along with his choice of time frame (especially given that his reasons for the time frame preference really do make sense).  So… I told G that he isn’t allowed to combine gifts (unless the combined gift is SUPER awesome.  Heh.)  and opted for October 16.  So… October 16 it is.

The Place: Hassayampa Inn, Prescott Arizona


No, neither I or G lives in Prescott.  No, neither I or G is from Prescott.  No, neither I or G has family in Prescott.  I chose Prescott because… well… I like it!  My grandparents have a cabin in Prescott and thus it has been a place I’ve frequented all my life.  I just LOVE the city.  It’s so… cute.  The city was originally a mining town, but managed to survive downturns in the industry and flourishes (to the extent of a small city) to this day.  It is full of historic buildings, including the courthouse in the downtown square, lots of historic homes with rich Victorian architecture, saloon style bars, and, of course… the Hassayampa Inn.  The Inn is a Prescott point of pride; built in 1927, it is gorgeous inside and out.  Even after all these years, the charm of the original architecture and furnishings remains.  The Hassayampa consistently appears in newspapers, magazines, books, and television as one of the best historic hotels in the nation.  Oh… and also… as one of the most haunted hotels in the nation; the Hassayampa is said to be haunted by a ghost named Faith who met an untimely death at the hotel while on her honeymoon.

The Inn has several choices for location of both ceremony and reception.  Our ceremony will be on the rooftop of the reception room, a recently acquired annex building which sits directly next to the main building.  When I originally started looking for a venue, I was hell-bent on having an indoor ceremony.  Then I saw the rooftop at the Hassyampa.  The rooftop is all tile, with a black iron railing surround and lush green trees in the backdrop.  It is AMAZING.  The reception hall is somewhat small, fitting only about 150 people, but it is very pretty, with an antique vibe, and blue and silver accents.  The blue and silver accents is perfect for me because…

The Colors:

Blue –


(Blue roses will be among the flowers represented in the bouquets.)

Silver –


(No… those aren’t my shoes.  But OhMyGoshIWishTheyWere.  In case you’re wondering… those are Christian Louboutin’s and they’ll run you in the neighborhood of $595.00 at Saks.)

Anywho… incidentally, these colors are ALSO the school colors of the high school that G and I both attended.  I swear I did NOT do this on purpose.  I’ve had these colors picked out since I was, like, five and it didn’t even register with me that blue and silver were our high school colors until one of my bridesmaids, who also went to our high school, reminded me of it when I told her the colors I’d picked.  Blue and Silver are my two favorite colors and it just so happens that they go marvelously together.  Win.

So… there you have it… a small taste of my wedding in the making.

Virtually every detail of my planning thus far has turned out exactly as I had hoped.  Aside from the initial choice of date, I have yet to be disappointed. (Let’s hope this trend continues.)  Everyone has always told me that planning a wedding is one of the most stressful things you will ever do, but with only a couple of exceptions, I have not found the planning process even the least bit stressful.  I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.  (Maybe that has something to do with my type A, OCD, “love to organize things” personality.  Maybe.)  I am so excited for our wedding.  Both because the wedding itself will freakin’ rock hardcore… AND because our wedding marks the beginning of my life with the most amazing man I could have ever asked to love me.

85 days, 2 hours, 2 minutes, and approximately… 33 seconds.  But whose counting.

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…


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