"Yes!" (And a few other phrases...)

Yesterday, my life changed forever.  Yesterday, I said "yes" (and some other things that we'll review in a bit) to marrying the love of my life and my best friend. Yesterday was without a doubt one of the best days of my life, and it all started out so routinely...

On any given Sunday, Ryan and I usually go out to lunch right after church, and like every other Sunday, that was our plan this weekend.  Early Sunday morning, he sent me a text saying that he was exhausted and since we had to be at my sister's house at 2 for a Father's Day celebration, could we do dinner instead.  More specifically, he said "I have a proposal to make.  Can we not do lunch after church and then I will take you to a nice dinner?"  He told me flat out that he had a proposal to make, guess I should have caught on!

Church and the family gathering and even dinner were all very routine, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  I didn't even question the fact that he kept getting up at dinner to use the restroom...turns out that he had the ring in his left pocket and at dinner, I sat directly on his left side and kept putting my hand on his leg.  Worried that I would feel it and start asking questions, he went to the restroom to change it to his right pocket safely out of my reach, and then had to switch it back to his left before we got in the car so that I wouldn't find it on the ride home.  Poor guy must have been so stressed, but he played it incredibly cool.

Once home, at the bottom of my steps, he stopped me and said, "Heidi, I need you to put your purse down and close your eyes...your mom and dad and I all have a surprise for you."  At that point, I was beyond confused...why would all 3 of them have a surprise? Why did I have to leave my purse?  What could be happening?  I quickly remembered that I LOVE surprises and stopped the line of questioning so as to figure out what awaited me at the top of the steps.  He held my hand and walked me up what felt like 300 steps.  At approximately step #289 (or 11, it's hard to say), he told me to wait right there with my eyes closed for just a second.  After a brief pause, I heard his voice say, "Okay, keep your eyes closed, but you can keep walking."  Umm, hello?  I'm on steps in heels with my eyes closed...this is an accident waiting to happen!  I reminded him that I was temporarily blind and not sure where I was on the staircase, and he rushed back to help me up the final few steps.

On level ground again, he walked me into the loft area, and told me to open my eyes.  Standing in front of me and holding my hands, he brought me to tears with the sweet words he spoke about our life, our love, and our future, dropped to one knee, and asked me to marry him.  I was so overwhelmed with surprise and joy that I didn't respond as eloquently or as gracefully as I had hoped that I would.  I think I screamed "YES! Of course!!", asked him "Really honey?! No, seriously...REALLY?!!" about 5 times, and then, in a moment that I'm sure I will never live down, "Thank you!"  Yes,  I said "thank you" after he asked me to spend the rest of my life with him.  I spent $30,000 on a Communications degree and I came up with "thank you." What?  It's the polite thing to say!

Not having any grasp on my bearings, I hadn't noticed that my mom and dad were standing witness to the whole thing (and snapping photos), nor had I even looked at the ring.  Luckily, he had the presence of mind to take it out of the box and remind me that there was another step to this process.

After saying 'yes' (and 'really', and 'thank you') and putting my stunning ring on (it was EXACTLY what I would have picked!!), I turned to my left and saw that he (or more specifically, my mom and dad, at his request) had turned my kitchen island into a cinammon proposal with my all time favorite candy, Hot Tamales.

Crying tears of joy, sweating profusely (attractive, I know) because of the rush of emotion, and shaking uncontrollably from all of the excitement, we sat down and started making the slew of calls to family and friends.  Mom diligently documented the whole process.  I'm not exaggerating when I say she photographed nearly every call we made.  I'll spare you the other 44 of them.

Then the groom-to-be stepped in and took a few shots of me with my folks, his trusted accomplices.  They had known about this since he took them to breakfast last Friday (where dad proceeded to warn him that he was getting a "hard-headed woman"...thanks, papa...), and while they said it nearly killed them, they managed to keep it a secret from everyone until the big moment.

Color mostly returned to my face, heart still racing, and shock somewhat present, we took our very first self-shot picture as an engaged couple:

I'm overwhelmed with emotion still today as I write this.  A year ago, I didn't think that I'd ever get married.  Partly because I was so independent, but mostly because I didn't believe that a man and a love this great really existed.  I'm brought to tears every time I think about the fact that he could have any woman in the world, and for reasons unknown, he chose me.  He has completely transformed my world for the better, and for someone who never thought she'd get married, I can't wait to be called his wife.

And while I may get teased for it for the rest of our lives, I'll say it again.  Thank you, Ryan.  Thank you for loving me, for making me laugh every day, for all of the ways that you show me how much you care, for being my best friend in the entire world, and for choosing me.  I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to be the woman you deserve.  I love you more than I thought it was possible to love someone, and I couldn't be more excited to spend the rest of my life being yours. 

Baseball, BBQ, Bikes, and Baby Geese

I know it's been a while.  Here's the situation:  I have been thinking for months of something that I could blog about that didn't center around the boyfriend, because I refused to be that girl who could only talk about her significant other.  In an effort to be creative and only blog about things that happened without him, I had to take a little hiatus.  Mostly because everything interesting in my life these days does include him, and LITERALLY nothing blog worthy seems to go on when we are apart.

So from this point forward, I'll just be known as the used to be funny/interesting/entertaining girl who now can only seem to talk about how amazing her boyfriend and his family and friends are.  I've accepted it, and now you have to, too. 

Last weekend, said amazing boyfriend took me to St. Louis/Southern Illinois for the weekend to see his family and to meet some of his college friends who I had been hearing about for the last several months.  Our first order of business was an afternoon Cardinals game.  Always one who likes to be cute, I enlisted the help of my sister and had this fun shirt made for the occasion:

Looking adorable in my supportive girlfriend attire, we made our way to the stadium and found our super awesome seats:

No adventure of mine is complete without a photo-op, and my aforementioned amazing boyfriend has learned to be incredibly tolerant of my paparazzi-esque snapshot taking.  As a symbol of my appreciation for his participation, I try to keep it to a maximum of 5 shots per activity and with mugs this cute, we usually only need 1:



So with that out of the way, and sunblock thoroughly applied, it was time to settle in and watch some baseball!  I lucked out and the seat in front of me was empty so I got to sit like this all afternoon:

And now my feet look like this:

Apparently I wasn't as thorough with that sun screen as I had previously thought!

Sufficiently burnt to a crisp, tired, sad from a Cardinals loss, and starving, we headed to see his family at his mom and dad's house.  Like any good mama, his mom had a beautiful spread of delicious food waiting for us as soon as we walked in the door.  I didn't take any photos of dinner, mostly because I knew I would be embarassed to admit how much I ate - while we miss them dearly, our waistlines are very thankful that both of our moms and their yummy cooking are kept at a safe distance for most of the year!  I did snap a few shots of us with the folks and one with Ryan's Nan, too:

Family time in, we headed back to St. Louis for my first introduction to the infamous Pod 6 crew (at least the first time in mass numbers) from Ryan's college days.  We had some BBQ (well, I had some spinach/artichoke dip and luckily had a fellow vegetarian girlfriend of a Pod 6 member there with me so I didn't get judged too harshly for passing on what I heard were amazing meats.) and then spent the rest of the night listening to old stories, getting to know everyone, and laughing a whole lot.  While I have been informed that nobody ever really passes the test, I at least think that I have lived to see another Pod 6 outing, which I am counting as a win.

As always, the visit was much too short, but we left feeling very loved.  We even managed to come home with some loot.  Ryan scored some new shirts and I got a cardigan, jewelry, and my very own bike!  Ryan's dad had bought a bike and fixed it up and gave it to me so that I could ride around the trail at my house with Ryan. (Sidenote:  aren't his parents AMAZING?!  They are so, so, so wonderful to us!)  Once home, we could hardly wait to try it out, but since it had been well over 10 years since I had been on one, didn't have a helmet yet, and let's be honest I'm wobbly on my own 2 feet, I needed a few practice laps around the parking lot:

Sturdied, (well, sturdied enough to not kill myself) we headed out to take our first few laps around the pretty trail that is my backyard.  During our ride, we noticed that the Canadian Geese that live here had recently had babies and were out and about with their cute little yellow balls of fur.  We admired them from a respectful distance and went on about our ride. Three-quarters of the way into the first 2 mile lap, we noticed that one group was not really moving across the trail quickly so we slowed down thinking that they would keep moving and we could be on our way.  As you can see, it was feeding time, and Mama or Papa Goose was not real interested in herding the little ones to a new spot, opting instead to stop in the middle of the road and stare us down like a ninja duck:

Ryan tried to reason with me and insist that we are much larger than they are, and we're on bikes so we could continue on our way and probably wouldn't be chased by them.  'Probably' wasn't quite enough insurance for me, as I was slow and wobbly on the bike, had no helmet, was dangerously close to fish-infested water, and was having flashbacks to the cat/pepper spray incident of 2010.  So being the good man that he is, Ryan gave into my fear and turned around to ride home the long way in order to be certain that I not get eaten by any animals who are 1/10 of my size.

And that concluded our weekend adventure.  To family and new friends: thanks again for all of your hospitality and kindness, we really appreciate you!  To the geese:  I have a helmet now and only look half drunk while riding the bike, so BRING IT!  Stay tuned for what is almost a certain 'How I Was Almost Killed By A Goose' post...









D-Day...oops! I mean B-Day Extravaganza '11

Birthdays are a big deal to me, so for Cute Guitar Guy's 32nd, I had big things planned for him.  I am a planner by nature, so the details were mapped out weeks ago to make sure that every aspect was perfect for him.  What is it they say about the best laid plans again??

Tuesday, November 15th at approxmately 5pm: Knowing what a huge Southern Illinois basketball fan he is, I ordered Ryan 2 Saluki shirts and tickets to a January game against Northern Iowa.  Basking in the glory of such a well thought out gift, I put aside planning the remaining details of his birthday and got ready for our date that night.

Tuesday, November 15th at approximately 8pm: Ryan starts talking about college basketball and how sad he is that Illinois isn't playing Iowa this season in Iowa City where we could see them. Then he started talking about how that was okay, because Southern Illinois is his real favorite. With a sigh, he said, "SIU actually plays at UNI this year, but I'm not getting tickets. Last time I went, 2 friends from home went with me and the SIU coaches spotted us in our Saluki gear and gave us court side seats right behind the bench.  It was AMAZING, and since I know I can't get seats like that again, I would just rather not go."

Awesome.  1/3 of the gift I just bought him THREE hours ago has now been specifically vocalized as something he doesn't want.  Don't panic, Higdon.  You have almost a month left to plan the rest of his special day and can make up for the crappy gift with the celebration.

Wednesday, November 30th: He loves movies, and had been talking about seeing 'Moneyball' since we saw the first preview. We hadn't gotten around to seeing it yet, so I decided that this would be a good activity for us to do on his birthday.  Birthday Extravaganza '11 is back on track! He's been talking a lot lately about how much he'd like to see SIU play, so I'm even feeling pretty good about his presents again.  Yes, this will be a fantastic day for him!

Wednesday, December 7th: Phone conversation while I was on the road for work:
Ryan: "Man, Northern Iowa is on tv. I don't want to watch that crap. They're terrible."
Me: "You don't want to watch Northern Iowa because they're bad? What if they were playing a team you loved?"
Ryan: "No, they're terrible. I wouldn't watch them even if I had free tickets to see them play Southern Illinois. Besides, the only time I ever saw them we had courtside tickets against SIU and you can't really top that."

                       ...and we're back to knowing that he's going to hate his gift...

Friday, December 9th at approximately 6pm: I made a special trip to the store to pick up his favorite ice cream, Ben & Jerry's Strawberry Cheesecake, to hide in my freezer and have for the cake and ice cream portion of his birthday. For the cake portion, I would be picking up a gourmet peanut butter cupcake for him on Monday morning.  So pleased with myself, I hurried home to hide the frozen goodness and get ready for our date.

Friday, December 9th at approximately 8pm:
Ryan: "I HAVE to get serious about my diet again, starting right now.  NO CHEATING!"
Me: "But you can cheat on Monday for your birthday, right?"
Ryan: "Well, a little.  I can have a steak at dinner, but I can't have anything high in carbs.  And absolutely no ice cream."

Saturday, December 10th: While at dinner, he asks me if I want to go see Moneyball tonight instead of just going home.  I answered with a simple "no" because that's already on the secret agenda for Monday!  He said, "Yeah, you know, I've been thinking about it, and I don't really want to see it in the theater that much.  I've had plenty of chances the last month and didn't go.  I'm actually glad you said no, because the more I think about it, the more I would really rather watch it at home once it's out on dvd.  I'd enjoy it a lot more that way." Fan freaking tastic. T minus 48 hours and he has unknowingly told me how he is going to hate EVERY piece of his birthday that I have planned.

Sunday, December 11th: After a 'North Woods' themed Christmas (see matching flannel below) party for church staff and their significant others (where our African pastor's wife mistakenly called me Ryan's wife, and then the African pastor corrected her by calling me Ryan's fiancee...both of which left Ryan literally speechless and stuttering to deny both titles --- looks like Santa will not be bringing me any bling this year!), we came home to watch a movie. He mentioned how excited he was for his birthday the following day, and I mentioned how he was going to hate everything I had planned, as I had been saying all weekend.  On the verge of a meltdown, he hugged me and said, 'Heidi, please stop stressing about my birthday.  The fact that I have you makes it a great birthday already, so take off your event planner cap for just one day and enjoy the moment with me.' Insert collective 'awww' here.

Monday, December 12th:  Here it was. The movie-he-doesn't-want-to-see-before-the-ice-cream-he-can't-have-and-presents-he-will-hate-day.  Can't wait.  My last hope was the gourmet peanut butter cupcake.  After an hour long butter cream shortage fiasco, I made my escape with the SOLE peanut butter cupcake they were able to make.  Perfect and pristine in its travel box, I hurried home to hide it in the fridge before our big outing. 

He came over around 1pm with a Chris Young cd for me that I have been wanting for weeks (doesn't he know how birthdays work? He gets the presents, not me!), and I wisked him away to the theater to see Moneyball (which we both loved) and then came back home to change before dinner.  Having starved him at lunch time so that he would be hungry for dinner, I told him he could have 1 of his 2 surprise treats as a snack.  I took the cupcake out of the fridge and said to him "You can't look yet - your surprise treat needs to thaw for a minute or two before it can be eaten." Having thought that I clearly explained myself, I went to change into my outfit for dinner.  I emerged from my room 5 minutes later to hear him say, "That cupcake was delicious!" Believing that he was just teasing me, I said, "Yeah right", to which he showed me the wrapper and said, "Seriously, it was." He ate the cupcake before I could put candles in it and while I was changing clothes?!

Me: "You ate the cupcake while I was changing?"

Ryan: "Yeah.  It was delicious."

Me: "You ATE it?  Without candles?  While I was changing in the other room?"

Ryan: "I didn't know there were supposed to be candles."

Me: "You're 32, Ryan. How did the last 31 birthday treats look? Did they have candles??"

Ryan: "Well, yeah.  But you said it was thawing and then I could have it."

Me: "Not without candles!  You don't eat birthday treats before you blow out candles!"

Ryan: "Oh."

So, while I would love to show you a picture of his beautiful gourmet cupcake that I had to wait 45 minutes for and narrowly escaped with the last drop of buttercream the store had, I can't.  Because he ate it.  While I was changing clothes and before I could put candles in it.  I left him unattended for FIVE minutes and he ate the cupcake.  Unbelievable.

Changed and one of us held over by a cupcake, we headed off to dinner at his favorite (and my new favorite) restaurant, Granite City:

Luckily, because I am a planner, after a scrumptious dinner, I still had the ice cream before presents.  Lesson learned, I immediately put candles in and made him pose before blowing them out, making his wish (yes, he did it backwards --- SERIOUSLY, he's 32!  He should know how this works by now!!), and opening his gifts.



The final piece to the evening was his presents - the Southern Illinois shirts and tickets.  I was so nervous about his reaction, that I didn't think to snap pictures of him opening his gifts, but I am happy to report that he was totally surprised and genuinely excited.  All is well that ends well.

Thank goodness that I have a whole year before I have to start planning another celebration with presents for that man!  Well, unless you count Christmas.  In less than 2 weeks.  During which we will be at his mom and dad's house in a town of 3,000 people and no Starbucks within a 20 mile radius.  Stay tuned.

And for anyone who isn't totally clear, you DON'T eat your birthday treat while your girlfriend is changing clothes and before there are candles in it!!

The Cute Guitar Guy & The Self Absorbed Hottie

A few months ago, I found myself freshly moved to Cedar Rapids and looking for a new church, so I enlisted the help of Google and created a list of 5 churches in my area that had a contemporary service (I love Jesus as much as the next gal, but I'm going to need a drum set during worship songs to keep me awake) to start trying out.  My intention was to try each church at least once before narrowing it down to 3 to attend again, and start to choose from there.  After all, this is my faith we're talking about, and choosing a place of worship is a big deal that should have some serious thought put into it!

My first stop was a Methodist church about 10 miles from my apartment.  A far cry from the modern, state-of-the-art Vegas church that I was still trying to find here in the land of corn & cows, but charming nonetheless.  It was a small congregation filled with mostly parishioners in the 40+ age group, so I didn't immediately notice anyone to sit by and make friends with. As I found a seat in a middle pew and politely smiled at the new faces around me, the praise band made their way to the stage, and there he was --- the cute guy in front with the guitar and no ring.  Bonus points reinstated.

He never said his name, but for all 4 songs he never took his eyes off of me.  This is going to be record time for me, I thought.  1 week in the city and 1 visit to this church and I've already got an admirer.  A cute one.  Who plays guitar.  Without an introduction to know his name, I shall refer to him as Cute Guitar Guy.  I watched him throughout the whole service, and watched the crowd, too, carefully scanning the faces of the 20 - 35 year old ladies to see if anyone was making eyes at him.  While I noticed a few admirers of his, he never sat by any of them or even looked their direction.  Nope, he only had eyes for me that day, and I was basking in the fact that he couldn't look away from my cuteness even for a moment.

I left quickly after service was over that day, so as to not look too available.  Leave him hanging, I thought.  This was now my church; no need to shop around.  I'd be coming back the next week to be adored by him some more.  Jesus is fine with me picking a church because there is a Cute Guitar Guy, right??

Fast forward a couple of days, I thought that I would step out of my comfort zone and call the Young Adults director at church to get involved and meet some new people.  I spoke to a very nice man named Ryan with a slow Southern drawl, and decided that if Cute Guitar Guy didn't work out, this Ryan character would be next on my list.  --- Sidebar - yes, I know, I apparently only like men named Ryan or Matt.  I had recently dumped Matt #3 (Note to self: when dumping someone, make sure that they don't operate a train that runs right next to your house, where they can lay on the horn for extended periods of time at ungodly hours.) and this would be Ryan #2.---  After a 30 minute chat about a wide variety of topics, I told Ryan that I had to get back to work, but would wait to hear back from him about the next Young Adults gathering.  He told me to be sure to find him after service that week, and I said I would and hung up, before realizing that I had no idea what he looked like.  Oh well, I can always use that as an in to talk to Cute Guitar Guy --- just ask him who Ryan is.  Damn, I'm good at this boy hunting!

That Sunday, dressed in an even cuter outfit than the one before, I saw Cute Guitar Guy yet again leading the praise band and yet again making googly eyes at me.  Then the woman next to him started speaking, and in the cutest Southern drawl you've ever heard, introduced herself as Ryan's 'momma' and thanked the church family for being so good to him after he moved here 2 years ago from their hometown.  Hmmm.  So that's Ryan.  Good news: Ryan with the Southern drawl is Cute Guitar Guy.  Bad news:  This cuts my list of suitors in this church in half.

After a brief introduction after service, Ryan/Cute Guitar Guy promised that he would be calling me later in the week to talk about Young Adults.  We said our goodbyes and as I got in line to greet Pastor, Cute Guitar Guy's mom and dad stepped in line right behind me.  After a nice 5 minute chat, I decided that I loved his mom and needed to put her in my pocket to keep forever.  Or at least that she needed to be my mother-in-law.

A few days later, my phone rang with a local number that I didn't recognize, but answered anyway.  It was Cute Guitar Guy!  Certain that he was calling about Young Adults, I asked him when the get together would be, and he answered with, 'actually, I was calling to ask you to dinner this weekend.'  Mmm hmm.  I knew he had been checking me out!  I happily accepted, and the rest, as they say, is history.  Well, except a few minor details.  I will summarize them briefly below:

Date #1: Dinner at a cute pizzeria, great conversation, and a goodbye hug.  That's cool.  I can respect a man who doesn't kiss me right away, though I definitely would have let him.

Date #2: Baseball game and a hug.  Had a great time, and like how sweet he is.  I'm sure he will kiss me next time.

Date #3: Movie at my house, dinner out, and a long drive around town.  And a hug.  Not even a hand hold on the couch during the movie, but that's probably because he didn't want to be too forward.  Tomorrow, after the family BBQ I'm taking him to, it's makeout central for sure!

Date #4: Family BBQ at my sister's house; he survived 16 Higdons/married to Higdons, 3 games of bean bag with me, and played guitar around the fire with my nephew.  Oh yeah.  Tonight's the night.  For a hug...

Date #5: Iowa vs. Iowa State Football game watch at a local bar.  Hung out for 6 hours, talked, laughed, and hugged when he dropped me off.  I'm thinking I might be in the friend zone at this point.

Date #6:  BBQ at Pastor's house for church staff and their families.  I'm pretty sure I passed everyone's judgement, except for maybe the 4 year old blonde girl who asked me why I kept sitting by Ryan and when I was leaving.  Yes, yes, this was the night for sure.  When he dropped me off, I got an extended hug with 10 seconds of our cheeks touching.  Sigh.  I'm from Vegas --- people get MARRIED in 6 dates or less.  I'm hot.  WHY isn't he kissing me?!!

Mid-week between dates #6 and #7: Me to Cute Guitar Guy: 'I can't hang out tonight.  I'm sick.'  Cute Guitar Guy: 'What's wrong?'  Me: 'I think I have Cute-Guitar-Guy-won't-kiss-me-itis!'  --- What?  God helps those who help themselves!

Date #7 (SEVEN.  As in 6 more than 1): Movie, drive around the neighborhood while a rabid raccoon was blocking my door, and hands down the most amazing first kiss I've ever had (and there have been, ahem, a few...)!!  Halle-freaking-lujah, the boy made a move!!

Date #8: Football at home...with his friend...so no kissing.  He makes me wait SEVEN dates and then on 8 we're entertaining a guest?!  He's lucky he's Cute Guitar Guy.  Plain old 'Guitar Guy' would not be getting so much slack.

Dates #9 - 13: Fun, common dates, with lots and lots and lots of kissing.

Date #14: Somehow end up discussing how we got started.  I led with 'I knew you liked me when you kept checking me out during service.' Cute Guitar Guy: 'You mean the week after we talked on the phone?'  Me: 'No, the first week.  You were checking me out the whole time, so I decided to come back the next week.' Cute Guitar Guy: 'Yeah, some of the church staff told me that there was a cute girl in service that week, but I totally missed you.  I didn't see you at all that week.  But I did notice you the second time.'  I'm pretty sure this was the moment he realized that it would be in his best interest to stop talking and kiss me some more...

We're now somewhere around Date #25 and he has thankfully been making up for that epically long era of smoochlessness. All of that kissing severely cuts into my picture taking obsession, so I will leave you with this one from Date #19: Our first trip out of town. See why I call him 'Cute Guitar Guy'?

Boys Say The Darndest Things

For anyone who follows this blog with any sort of regularity or knows me at all, you know that I have dated some serious winners (If you need to be caught up: case, point, checkmate, and one for good measure) who say some pretty awesome things.  So boys, I'm going to give you some help about what not to say.  And ladies, unless your man has topped these, maybe give him a free pass today. 

Enjoy the highlights of the huge practical joke that is my dating life:

Worst style commentary:

Boy: You know, I love it when you wear jeans. It makes you less pretty than usual and I feel like I have more of a shot with you. And I also really like the just rolled out of bed hair look that you have going on.

Me: You think my hair looks like I just rolled out of bed????

Boy: Oh, I shouldn't have said anything, huh?

Me: Yeah. Never tell a woman she looks like she didn't make an effort.

Boy: But why? You women say you want honesty in a man...

Worst observance of my independence:

"You don't need a man - you ARE the man!"

Worst attempt to encourage a positive body image:

"You're looking really curvy today.  I like the extra meat you've got lately."

 

Worst joke.  Ever.:

 

Me: When my parts start drooping, there will be surgical intervention.

Boy: I hope that you have that fund started already.

Me: Are you implying that I am going to need a lot of cosmetic surgery soon?

Boy: See?  I can be funny.

 

Worst ask for a committment:

 

"I think you should give me a shot.  I'm cute and funny.  Plus, it's not like I have a parade of women coming through my living room."

 

Worst compliment (I think?):

 

"Some of those hookers were charging $200 and they weren't even cute.  You could easily get $500."

Operation Sugar Daddy

Upon careful thought and consideration, I have come to the conclusion that I'm too pretty to work.  At a bare minimum, I'm too pretty to work full time.  So, in the words of my dear friend Rachel (she's very wise - check her out), I need to find a man to bank roll my rock and roll lifestyle.  With my 20s on a downward spiral heading into 30 like a freight train, I figured I should take advantage of my youth and good looks while they are still around. 

I know that this must sound a little overindulgent, but follow me here.  I bring a lot to the table, and am willing to negotiate the terms of our arrangement.  My staples are as follows: provide my basic needs (food, shelter, gasoline, etc.), 1 Diet Mountain Dew or Starbucks per day, 6 vacations per year (4 to Phoenix/Las Vegas where only a plane ticket and spending money are needed, 1 to Boston, and 1 tropical locale), and $200 per month wardrobe allowance; of which any remaining balance may be carried over infinitely.  Keep in mind that I am willing to work part time to help with these expenses. 

Ideally, I would like to stick to the terms of a traditional Sugar Daddy/Trophy Girl relationship: woo me, buy me nice things, take me out on the town to show me off, make a weekly or semi-monthly deposit into my checking account, and then go home to your house that is separate from mine.  Here's where the negotiations come in.  I'm willing to settle down and become a trophy wife with the added conditions that I get at least a 2 carat ring, my last name is hyphenated, bump that wardrobe allowance up to $350 a month, and I'm going to need 1 additional state side vacation of my choosing per year.

Sounds like a nice deal for me, I know, and I'm sure you're wondering what you get out of it, so I have taken the liberty of compiling a list of reasons why you should scoop me up and take care of me for the rest of my life.  This list is by no means meant to be exhaustive, and if you have any stipulations not seen below, please feel free to inquire about my willingness to provide.  Thank you, and I look forward to meeting you and your AmEx in the near future.

10 Reasons Why You Should Be My Sugar Daddy:

1.) I look great in formal wear
Have a fancy business dinner to be at?  A charity gala?  Best man in your brother's wedding?  I can rock a ballgown in any color.

2.) I am excellent with babies and small children
Don't get any ideas - none will be housed in my uterus, but if you come with them in tow, I can probably keep them alive.

3.) I'm not afraid of a theme party.

Cowgirl, sock-hopper, 80s cutie, some ill-advised college era 'bros & hos' parties that I won't post here, but I'm sure there is evidence of...

4.) I can hold my liquor.

My first three loves are: tequila, tequila, tequila, but I can down a Blue Moon like it's my job!

 5.) I'm a good hugger.

Handshakes are so formal.  Whether you hug back or stand straight as a board, I'm getting my loves in!

6.) I give good back rubs.

7.) I'm sporty.
Whether I'm running 13.1 miles, showing off my championhip miniature golf form, or dominating the batting cages, I'm basically awesome.


8.) I believe that variety is the spice of life.
You will never see me with the same hair style twice.

 

9.) I'm always ready for a photo op.

Catch me off guard when there is a camera around?  I dare you to try.

10.) I'm hot.

Let's face it.  I'm not going to look this good forever, so you should probably get me while the getting is good.  Go ahead, gentlemen, let the fighting over me begin...