Someone please tell my darling of 5+ years that my life was meant to be a musical and that he should really keep that in mind when he proposes.

Also, please take away my access to Youtube…I just spent an hour watching flash mob proposals.

I received a monologue of an email from my Dad today, written after I told my Mom that even though I knew it was illogical, thinking of flying alone on 12/21/12 was randomly terrifying my soul.

My Dad, the man who has made me the confident woman I am today, ended his “let’s disprove this religiously and scientifically” letter with the following:

‘You are the very daughter I dreamed of, longed for, and prayed to God about long before you were formed. You are my shining star, pride and joy, and my ever hopeful quest for a life fulfilled one day by grandchildren. You are my precious Angel, and through you, I am blessed.

With this in mind, do you think if there was the most remote possibility of anything bringing harm to you that I would not have already put an end to it?

My Angel. December 21, 2012 is a day that we will remember…because it is a day I get to pick you up at the airport in Alaska and hold you again. Otherwise, it is just another page to tear off your calendar.’

And you know…I actually believe he could stop an apocolypse from striking if it meant protecting me.

Anonymous asked: This is sort of a weird personal question but does your man always decide plans, or just weekend ones, or just this time? I would be like "RAWRR but we didn't even discuss that!" I may just be an aggravated bitch :( Thoughts?

Totally doesn’t make you an aggravated bitch - that’s an understandable RAWRR…but no, he doesn’t always make plans, weekend or otherwise. He knows I love being in the water more than anything and does what he can to make that happen as often as possible.

I stepped into my Subway last night and saw a group of guys wearing shirts for the local high school track team standing around. One of the bunch turned towards the sound of the bell as I opened the door, locked eyes with me, and spent the next ten minutes as we made our way through the ordering process attempting to flirt before finally asking where I went to school, saying he hadn’t seen me around - and, you know, he knows all the pretty girls.

I laughed while asking him how old he thought I was and grinned as he nonchalantly answered with, “pshaw…you can’t even be a senior.” His eyes went from shocked at my admission of being nearly a decade out of high school to coy at the thought of having his own Mrs. Robinson.

But, I mean, listen kid…

I’m well aware I look younger than I actually am, but if you can’t tell that I’m older than seventeen just by looking into my eyes - you obviously don’t pay well enough attention to the minute details of body language, and seeing as though I communicate more physically than verbally - it’s ridiculously necessary for me to have a guy who understands and appreciates that.

…not that you ever had a chance. I tend to like my men less boy and more man - you know, like my boyfriend.

There’s a pool party BBQ filled with close friends and great food today, my guy is having his last ball game of the season tomorrow, and two friends are nearby for a short period only - one a guy whose family I grew up with in both Japan and Alaska, the other a darling who lives on the wrong coast.

And I’m sick.

I’m really just upset that I’ve lost my voice and can’t sing. …that’s like taking away Batman’s batmobile or telling Aquaman he’s forbidden to go near the water.

Yeah, that’s right. I’m comparing myself to superheroes.