Engagements

I have a thing for Andrew.  

I think that is pretty dang obvious.  

Somehow he kind of has a thing for me.  

And we have a thing for red rocks.  

Canyoneering, jeeping, camping, hiking, climbing.  Anything to do with those red rocks has our name all over it.  And of course most of the major moments in our relationship have happened in red rock land.  

FIRST KISS:  on top of one of Moab's greatest jeeping trails, Hell's Revenge.

FIRST TIME WE SAID "I LOVE YOU": after sky diving over the canyon lands of Moab.

So seeing as some of my favorite moments have happened in some of Utah's most gorgeous canyon lands, I thought it was only appropriate to take our engagements pictures in yet another one of my favorite red rock canyons, Capital Reef.  

I will admit I was a tad bit stressed about engagements.  Andrew and I are not the most photogenic couple and most of our pictures consist of both of us sticking our tongues out. But luckily my soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law are magical with the camera.       

And to top it all off… our classic pose.  We couldn't help it.

Canyoneering

This weekend we went to Capital Reef for a little engagement photo shoot session and as an added bonus we got to go CANYONEERING.  

If we are being honest, until this weekend I had absolutely no idea what "canyoneering" really meant.  And when I originally agreed to the trip I agreed because:  

A.  I wanted to be semi-warm while shooting engagements and somewhere down south sounded much warmer than the bipolar weather Salt Lake has to offer. 

B.  The term "canyoneering" just sounded really neat.  It sounded completely unlike your typical take-a-hike-in-the-mountains kind of adventure.  It sounded like a real exploration. And it was something totally NEW and foreign.  And lately… I am all about new.  

So when Sarah and Pat suggested we go…  I, of course, said... HECK YA. 

Canyoneering was everything I expected but nothing I had imagined all at the same time.  If that makes any sense at all.  Ultimately it was NEW.  With lots to learn.  But that's why I love new things.  Because new experiences means learning and quite honestly I love learning.  

It turned out being one of my favorite adventures yet.  So here's to Sarah and Pat for taking stellar engagements, planning a fabulous trip, and teaching me...  

TEN THINGS I DIDN'T KNOW WHEN I WAS A CANYONEERING NOOB:   

#1:  You don't repel.  You rappel.  All week I had been thinking we were going repelling… hahaha I kill myself sometimes. 

#2:  Your right hand must NEVER leave the rope.  Never ever ever.  Or you may very well die.  EEK.   Please note that right hand death grip on the rope below.  

#3:  The Seven Wives are seven slot canyons found in Capital Reef.  This weekend we did Wife #5 and Wife #3.  Although Wife #5 is supposed to be the prettiest slot canyon with a total of five rappels; Wife #3 was by far my favorite… Probably because it began with my very favorite rappel of all… 

the 200 footer. 

  

A M A Z I N G

#4:  Wife #3 is INCREDIBLE.  Seriously, it blew my mind.  200 feet of nothing but pure exhilaration.  It was incredible to be so high.  To take in views that very few other humans have ever had to the opportunity to see.  And to feel so insanely small.  

#5:  I may possibly also love Wife #3 so much because quite honestly it made me feel like I could conquer the world.  I mean I just descended 200 feet… what can't I do?  

I am INVINCIBLE.  

Until I remind myself of the incident that occurred in #6.  

#6:  I can rappel 200 feet.  No big deal.  But I have major meltdowns when asked to trust fall over small five foot crevices.  Shaking.  Pure terror.  Another one of those ridiculous-this-really-shouldn't-be-as-scary-as-I-am-making-it moments.  Where I ALMOST started begging to be left behind.  And stated "I just don't think I am cut out for canyoneering."  But luckily Andrew is super patient.  And super persistent.  And luckily Sarah and Pat only found the incident to be completely humorous.  So we all got over it… after fifteen minutes of coaxing from the world's best fiancé.  

  

#7:  I am now a huge a fan of canyoneering.  And totally cut out for it now that I overcame what we now call "Beth's Wedge." 

#8:  "Ridin'" by Chamillionaire is never a suitable trip theme song.  Even though Andrew insisted it was.  And sang it continually during the 48 hours.  

#9:  I am the luckiest.  Because in 44 short days I get to marry my best friend.  And not only do I get to marry the boy of my dreams, but I also get the added bonus of gaining lifetime adventure buddies to go on countless couple trips with.  

#10:  Space Team is probably one of my new favorite I-Phone games everrrr.  Sorry to our neighbors who we probably kept up all night.  We didn't mean to scream we just didn't want to get caught in a worm hole.  YOLO.

Scuba Terrified

Andrew described it as exciting yet completely calming at the same time.  

I was stoked.  A little apprehensive but mostly stoked as I geared up for my first scuba class.

The first hour was bookwork.  Along with a lengthy discussion from which I retained only one phrase.

"Don't ascend too fast or you'll get the bends."

Or in other words…. If you go up too fast then BOOM your lungs will explode into smithereens. 

It was all I could think about as we walked out to the pool.

I killed it when it came to putting my gear together.  An oxygen-tank-regulator-hook-uper-BCD-inflator-professional if I do say so myself.  But when it came to getting in water I was pretty much a big FAT disaster.

My first breaths underwater were anything BUT calming.  They were odd and out of place.  For the first few minutes I continually kept thinking, "When the HECK do we surface for air?" And as the minutes ticked on, I became more and more anxious as I became more and more aware of the fact that my body really shouldn't be able to do something that only fish and mermaids can do.  This stress was only amplified by my constant concern for my ridiculously stubborn right ear that wouldn't seem to ever fully pop.  And those bends….  I just couldn't get the awful image out of my head of my lungs contorting and rupturing in my chest.  A completely irrational stress seeing as we were diving in a twelve foot pool.  

The final straw was when we did an exercise where we unhooked our air source to simulate what it would feel like if we lost air.  No thank you.  That exercise left me short of breath, pale, and with tingling numb hands that I couldn't control.  AKA: hyperventilation.  Yes, you heard me right I hyperventilated.

E M B A R R A S S I N G 

I went home dizzy, light headed, drained, and completely defeated.  Who hyperventilates swimming in a pool?  Seriously??  As I waited for Andrew to come over so I could tell him all about my EPIC failure I tried to convince myself that clearly my body just wasn't made for this sport.  To frail, to weak…. and then I got mad.  Real mad.  Partially because I had just paid good money to go and hyperventilate and partially because I realized I was already trying really hard to convince myself that it was okay to give up. 

When I started college I somewhat redesigned myself.  Or perhaps I just figured out who I really was all along.  I just quit trying to please so many people.  But I also decided to make a new life goal. TRY NEW THINGS.  To try lots of new things continually.  To get outside of my comfort zone.  To never regret not trying something. 

To rock climb, water ski, and sky dive.  And if I can jump out of a plane then I for sure as heck can sit underwater for twenty minutes.  So I decided as I laid on the couch pale as a ghost I would conquer this dumb fear I had developed.  

I will not lie I totally dreaded our next class.  And I had to tell myself to breathe normal the whole entire hour of bookwork.  But when it came time to get into the pool I killed it.  My body got used to it.  I took plenty of super deep breaths.  And I pretended to be a mermaid.  But seriously I did.  

Two more classes.

Two open water dives in a dark rather crowded crater.

A bloody nose.

A reverse ear block that left me partially deaf for a couple days.

And BOOM I am proud to say I am a certified lady.

c e r t i f i e d  

 no longer  

t e r r i f i e d

Over my ridiculous fear of scuba diving

and ready for our next adventure that hopefully involves swimming with real fishies.  

Resolutions

When I was a little girl my best friend, Calee, used to tell me I was perfect. 

p e r f e c t 

I began to hate the word perfect.  She meant it as a compliment.  Occasionally a method of teasing.  But generally a compliment.  However, for some reason I hated it.  Hated it.  Hated it.  Hated it.  Hated it so much that in fact one day I had a small freakout and told her all about how much I absolutely hated it when she called me perfect.  (poor poor Calee... I don't know how she has put up with me the past sixteen years)

For awhile I couldn't decide why I hated being called perfect.  I mean a compliment is a positive thing.  And ultimately being perfect was the highest compliment out there.

For years I figured it was because I must hate to be complimented.  Honestly complimenting can be a very awkward thing.  It generally results in me disagreeing as the complimenter has to insist for several minutes that I am in fact wearing a darling outfit.  I am not quite sure why I feel the incessant need to disagree with almost every compliment I receive.  It could be because I feel awkward when I become the center of attention orrrr… perhaps I am a tad more ego centrical than I think I am and I actually do love hearing the compliment over and over again.  Eek.  No matter what the motive is, it is ridiculous, time-consuming, and tiring so therefore this year RESOLUTION #1 is to become more gracious and simply say "thank you" when confronted with a compliment.

RESOLUTION #2 comes from my hatred for perfection.  My hatred for the word has been plaguing me since I was child but oddly enough it wasn't until last year that I finally realized why I truly hate the term "perfect."

2013 came with the brilliant resolution to write in my journal every single night.  Every single night.  I did amazingly well for the first few months.  Instead of writing in a regular paper journal I started a private blog.  This way there were no scratched out, smeared pen marks that would drive me absolutely insane.  Reducing my paper and white-out use significantly.  I could easily include pictures and I became very proud of my perfectly documented year.  Then summer hit and I actually began to regain my social life leaving me less time to write and that's about when things started going south.

I missed a day.  And when I sat down two days later to write I couldn't stand the fact that I had missed a day.  Couldn't stand it.  It made my skin crawl because it seemed I had in a way failed.  So I came up with a clever idea to solve my failure.  I began backdating my entries.  That way it appeared that I had never missed a day.  Genius.

  It worked until about the fifth time I had to do two entries in one day.  It was becoming such a chore to sit down every other day and come up with two, or three, or in some cases four journal entries.  And the more I began to dread it, the more days I missed because I didn't want to deal with the daunting task of making-up what had become a whole week of journal entries.  And about two months into summer I finally gave up.

A couple months later I opened back up my failed journal-blog-resolution-gone-wrong and realized that  the issue wasn't missing a day, the issue was... myself.

I am a perfectionist.  Not to be confused with being perfect.  Rather I am OCD and a tad controlling (if you couldn't tell from my above rant about pen smears and scratch outs)  Because who honestly cares if you make a mistake and have to scribble it out?  I can tell you who does… sadly this girl right here.

Now sometimes being a perfectionist is great.  For example, I get really good grades because I can't handle getting a poor score.  But when it comes to other things like journal entries or scripture reading I fail miserably.  Because when I miss a day… my perfect goal is crushed.  And when my perfect goal is crushed I get ridiculously bugged by it and can't stand to even think about my failure causing me to completely abandon the goal and pretend it never happened… Real healthy.  Not

 So this year my RESOLUTION #2 is to not be perfect.

To be okay with not having things go exactly my way.  To be a little less controlling.  To lessen my expectations just a tad.  To appreciate the mistakes.  And to love my failures for what they have taught me.

  So here's to the most imperfectly perfect year yet.  A year of less stress, more pen scratch outs, and weeks where I go without posting on this blog.  (Yes I am justifying my lack of writing with my resolution)

And here's one last shout out to that one chick up top that has always been my number one fan.  Calee Kay.  Thanks for putting up with my perfectionism.  Love you to the stars and back.

Dancing with Fire

I've been waiting for it to hit...  For it to finally click that I am engaged.  Engaged to my very favorite person on the planet.  But a week later it still feels so surreal.  Considering the amount of times I am glancing down at my left hand everyday you would think I would have realized.  But I still wake up every morning feeling as surprised and giddy as ever that there is a shiny perfect ring staring back at me.

We had picked it out over a month ago.  A month of secret keeping.  A month of not-so-patiently waiting.  A month of begging.  Begging to see it.  Begging for clues.  The only clue I got was "snow."  He said it had to be snowing.  I naively believed.  I accepted the fact that I probably wouldn't be engaged until Christmas break.  I got excited about how magical a Christmas engagement could be.  And I completely let my guard down.  Silly silly girl.  Smart smart boy.

Now before I tell the rest of our story we have to rewind.  Rewind to April.  A few weeks before our first date.  We were all at Andrew's house sitting around a fire roasting marshmallows and chatting.  Somehow the fact that Andrew could fire knife came up and of course we begged him to show us.  I had never seen fire knifing before and to say the least I was very impressed.  As I sat completely mesmerized watching him toss and spin the burning knife, one of my very best friends, Jane, leaned over and whispered, "oh my gosh Beth you should go for him." I quickly replied no, no he was totally off limits.  He was one of my best friend's older brothers.  But nonetheless the boy who could make fire dance had caught my eye.  And when he called a few weeks later asking me on our first date I was hardly excited.

Now fast forward.  Back to November 30th.  (my now favorite day of the year)  We were sitting on the porch waiting for my family so that we could go down to the  beach for a little fire spinning show.  It was nothing out of the normal.  He had done it once before for my family and my mom was determined to get it on film this time.  As we waited, he practiced and I watched.  And without a clue of what would happen next I reminded him that "his first fire spinning show was what caught my eye."  He just smiled.  Probably stoked out of his mind about how perfectly my comment fell into the plans for the night.

He did his show on the beach.  Not only was my family watching but a crowd of bystanders had gathered to watch on the boardwalk.  As he spun I was completely preoccupied trying to get a good picture that I had been insisting he should instagram.  He ended and still clueless I became worried that his one-knee ending had gotten him stuck.  When he called me over I went over with every intention of helping him get up without scorching his legs off.  But instead out came a little black box.  My mind went b l a n k.  I was taken completely off guard.  As usual NOT what I had planned.  "Elisabeth, will you marry me?"  The world seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time.  Instant tears, a "yes," more tears, a few screams, and even more screams.

And now I am engaged.  To my very best friend… the boy who made fire dance.

To watch a video of our proposal click the following link…

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0pWx7N4s40

                   

Rock Around the Clock

This weekend we got to shower one of my very best friends, Anna Winterton… soon to be Hansen.   

She is a stunner and I cannot wait to see how amazingly fabulous she will look on her wedding day.  Love love this lovely lady.  

We decided to throw Anna an "Around the Clock" shower and it turned out darling.  We began by assigning each girl that was invited a time.  Each girl was then supposed to buy a gift that coordinated with the time they were assigned.  Now let's by honest... not very many of us stuck to our times but assigning times definitely inspired some gift creativity and I loved hearing how each girl justified that their gift fit with their time.  

I was in charge of invitations, decorations, and the video.  One of my other very best friends, the lovely Taylor Watts, was in charge of party gifts and food.  The gifts were witty and the food was to DIE FOR.  Thank you Mama Watts.  Taylor also added a final touch that made the entire shower twenty times better… a board of awkward photos from Anna's awkward days.  Nothing but laughs and some much needed reminiscing on our Jr. High days.

The invitations… that I was far too proud of…     

Clocks on clocks on clocks

The most darling party gifts.

 My banner… another proud moment… 

A menu consisting of fresh fruit, HOMEMADE rolls, a fabulous gluten free salad, and brownies galore.  YUM YUM YUM

Our lovely party guests. 

21 fabulous girls who came to celebrate Anna Banana's decision to get married.  

And last but not least… my favorite shot of the night.  The hosts with the lovely soon-to-be bride.  We love you Anna Bear.

  

Next up… BACHELORETTE  PARTY... 

s.i.x.

Six months ago today Andrew kissed me for the first time on top of a jeeping trail called Hell's Revenge in Moab.  I know that sounds a tad redneck but it was honestly the most perfect kiss to ever exist.  It was what I like to call a "movie moment."  

We jeeped up to the peak of the trail and climbed up to sit on top of the roof of his jeep to watch a lightning storm out in the distance lighting up the silhouettes of the arches.  It was breathtaking and it left both of us almost speechless.  The world was completely silent and it felt like we were the only two people on planet earth.  I could have sat there for hours.  It was just one of those moments you never want to end.  And then the next thing I knew he looked at me, grabbed my face and kissed me.  Instant 

b u t t e r f l i e s.  

Ever since that first kiss I've been falling for him.  And even though I think each day I am really really in love with him, I am surprised the next day because I end up loving him even a little more than the day before.  

So to celebrate six months of a ridiculously sappy Beth I thought I would be sappy yet again and share SIX things I love about Andrew… 

1.  He's my biggest fan.  He supports me in just about everything I do.  He's the first and probably most faithful reader of this blog.  He is continually encouraging me to do what I love.  To him, the sky is my limit and he will be behind me in whatever I want to do.

2.  He's a hard worker.  He is always working on a project.  And not only is he always working but he is always doing everything he does one hundred percent.  He never does something half way.  It's all or nothing.  

3.  He's willing to make my dreams come true.  I wanted a Harry Potter party.  He built me Hogwarts.  He goes above and beyond to have a good time and to make sure I am happy.  

4.  He's tone deaf.  I love that someone else can sing as off key as I do.  Car rides with us is a real treat and I  love that he is willing to sing just as loud as I do.  

5.  He can make me laugh.  And it's not just dumb humor.  He's witty and clever which I love.  I love clever people.  I also love that he can laugh at his own mistakes and the hilarious things that seem to be always going wrong in our life… aka spills, falls, and just about every other clumsy thing possible.    

6.  He's still a child.  He likes animated movies almost as much as I do.  He is always down for a practical prank.  And he has an equally wild imagination.       

Six things I love, to celebrate six of my very favorite months.

s.i.x.