Four Years A Bride: The Finale

Haven’t read the other parts?

Part I  Part II  Part III

After I had totaled and flipped my car, my view on life completely changed.

As I had stated in my last post, I was tired of being lonely.  I was tired of being strong.  I was tired of being so self-reliant.  Honestly, I was just tired.

I had been working 80 hours a week for four months at that point.  When I had one day off, which was very far and few between, I would just sleep for 14 hours.  I didn’t even enjoy my days off.  When I was dating Alex, I would see him at night, and if I only had to work one job, I would usually sit on his bed with him and talk, and we talked about everything.  Slowly, he had not become only my lover, but my best friend.

After I had flipped my car, I basically lost my job at the deli.  My manager put me at 23 hours a week, which was my main source of income.  She said that after flipping my car, I wasn’t reliable anymore.  My other job was paying well, but between student loans, car insurance that went through the fucking roof, rent, and basic living expenses, I was maxing out a credit card just to survive.

My mother had told me that if I ever asked her for rent money, she would mail me a ticket to fly home.  I would ship back only the necessary stuff, and give away the rest.

So when I was figuring out how I was going to survive, I would usually burst into tears.  I liked Minnesota, but Alaska, to date, is the only place where I’ve ever felt that I fit in.  It was the only place that I could be 100% true to myself and not feel scorned for it.

And if this blog hasn’t given you any insight: I’m really fucking weird.

I remember sitting with Alex, telling him my woes, explaining that I might have to move home, and unfortunately, we would probably have to split.

I don’t do long distance relationships, we wouldn’t be able to afford to fly back and forth from Minnesota and Alaska, and I honestly couldn’t see doing a long distance.  He asked me what he could do to keep me in Alaska, and I joked and said, “Well, there’s always marriage.”

We had been talking marriage a little more seriously.  Because you obviously know someone ridiculously well after two months of being together.

I laughed, but he didn’t.  The next day, we decided to go out to eat.  It was a few days after I had flipped my car and I was still a little sore.  We went out to eat at the Wolf’s Run, which was my favorite restaurant in Alaska.  They were mostly a dessert shop, but their dinners were ridiculously good.  It was pretty early so we were the only ones in the restaurant.  It was stunningly quiet, and once we sat down and the waitress left, Alex took my hands and gave this huge speech.

He told me that his life was a puzzle, and I was the missing piece.  That he had never been in love so deeply before, that I was the other half to make him whole.  He said a lot of mushy stuff and I thought it was sweet, but I didn’t quite get what he was getting at.

“So Leah, my love, my life, will you do the honor of marrying me?” he asked me.

Because I’m so fucking romantic, I responded with, “Sure, why not?”

As you can imagine, the look on his face was priceless.  He put his face in his hands and started to laugh.  “Leah, I’m being serious right now.”

My eyes grew wide.  “Oh shit!  Uh, yes!  Yes, I’ll marry you!”

To which we kissed across the table.  The waitress came around with our hot chocolate and we told her we were engaged.  She just smiled and asked for our orders.

The rest of the night we walked around, figuring out how to tell our family.  I emailed my mom and she didn’t believe me until it was Facebook official, which is the only official that you really need.  Alex’s mom found out via Facebook.  Pretty much the whole family found out about it via Facebook.

Since most of you are probably wondering… he did not propose with a ring.  He was fresh out of basic, he was just as broke as I was.  Alas, this is likely my Alaska side coming out.  To me, rings are usually impractical.  I don’t really care for jewelry.  Alex couldn’t afford a ring and he told me he was going to buy me a big shiny rock someday.  He felt bad that he proposed without a ring, but for me, it wasn’t important.  I wasn’t marrying a ring, I was marrying him.  I knew he loved me, I could see it whenever he smiled at me, or held me, or even when he would talk to me.

My friends felt the same that I did.  A wedding ring is material, it will come in time.  I’ve met several people who didn’t get a ring until they had been together for years.  It wasn’t a big deal.

However, when Alex told his coworkers that he proposed without a ring, they couldn’t believe I said yes without a ring.  A lot of people I knew on base told me that I was stupid for accepting without a ring.  Even here in Louisiana, people told me that they would never accept a marriage proposal without a ring worth at least two grand.  Something I will never, ever understand.

So, on my 21st birthday, two weeks after he proposed, on Valentines, he took me to a jewelry store and let me pick out an engagement ring.

I went over to the sapphires because I really don’t like diamonds and I found a small sapphire ring.  It was $200, and I felt awful finding something to expensive.  However, I really liked it.  I showed it to Alex and he told me that I should pick something more expensive, and I told him no.  I liked simple.

My engagement ring and wedding band.  Total cost was ridiculously low.  And awesome.

My engagement ring and wedding band. Total cost was ridiculously low. And awesome.

So he bought me the ring and I got it sized, and I haven’t really taken it off in the past four years.

On February 28th, the justice of the peace in Fairbanks was meeting us at the chapel on base.  She was two hours late.  One of my best friends in Alaska was there, her mother was there, Alex’s shop chief and his wife were there, and my mom flew up at the last minute to be there.

The justice of the peace was awful.  She stood before us and said, “Do you?  Do you?  Okay, you’re married.”

I remember standing there for about forty seconds before saying, “Can I kiss him now?”

She looked shocked.  “Sure, if you want.”

So we kissed, and we were married.  My mom said she didn’t even have time to get the tears worked up.  My friend’s mom and Alex’s shop chief witnessed the wedding.  From there we went to where I worked and bowled a few games with Alex’s shop.  My mom bought me a cheeseburger and a bottle of Mike’s hard lemonade, and that was my wedding.

Thanks to my friend Marissa for having the thought of bringing a camera that day.

Thanks to my friend Marissa for having the thought of bringing a camera that day.

The next day, we went to the Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks with my mom, and that was my honeymoon.

About four months later we had a “real wedding” in Las Vegas, where I had a fancy ass dress and more of my family attended.  Where I had a horrible wedding photographer.

But that’s okay, because I got the best possible thing out of the entire situation.

I got to gamble in Vegas while totally and completely hammered.

Oh, I got to marry Alex too.

So yeah, that’s how I got married.

Credit to my sister in law for taking this picture.  It looks far better than any of the professional pictures.

Credit to my sister in law for taking this picture. It looks far better than any of the professional pictures.

Alex, happy four years.  You’re the Samwise to my Frodo Baggins.  You’re the Gandalf to my Bilbo Baggins.  You’re the precious to my Gollum.  You’re my lover, my friend, my husband.  I know we drive each other batty more often than not, but I love you, and I want to have at least another 40 years of happiness.

How did your spouse propose to you?  What kind of wedding did you have?  Do you lack the romance like me?  Let me know in the comments!


Four Years A Bride: How I Almost Died

Part 1      Part 2

After dating Alex about a month, we had already told each other the dreaded L word.  I was sleeping over at his place every day, and nights that I wasn’t at his house, we were texting each other all night because we couldn’t sleep without the other one.  When I worked on base, he would walk to my work, pick up my car, fill it up and go grocery shopping to make sure I ate my veggies.

If there was a rare occasion that we both had a day off, we spent it in his dorm room watching movies and cuddling.  I had been in love once before, but never like this.  It was intoxicating.  When we were together, I felt complete and at peace, when we were apart, I ached for him in a way I never knew a person could ache for someone.

Once a year I would fly home to Minnesota to visit my family, always on my mom’s dollar because I was poor.  She would fly me home, I’d see the dentist and any other medical check ups I needed, mom would take me clothes shopping, my friends would throw a party and we’d either get drunk or just hang out, and so on.  This trip, I remember a very distinct conversation with my mom about my relationship with Alex.

I told her that I was going to marry Alex.  I just knew that I was going to marry him.  Alex and I started joking about it after two weeks of dating, saying “if we get married.”  When the one month mark hit, we were saying “When we get married” and neither of us corrected the other.

My mom told me that I needed to wait at least six months so I could get to know him.  She said that I needed to be careful because he could be someone who is abusive, and to be fair, she made a lot of really good points.  The points she made, honestly, are points I make to people when they mention marriage after knowing someone for a year.

But I was 20 years old, I thought I knew everything.  I told her that we were going to get married probably in June, and while he hadn’t proposed yet, I knew he was thinking of doing it, he had told me as much.

But not this romantic

But not this romantic

My mom tried to talk me out of it and she said she wanted to meet him before I considered marrying him and that we should plan a trip to visit all of our families before getting married, but we lived in Alaska and he was newly enlisted, he was just as broke as I was.    But as always, my mom knew best, and her advice was really solid advice.  But I just didn’t want to listen.

I got my wisdom teeth taken out two days before I flew back to Minnesota, and the day after I was so high on pain meds that I didn’t remember my brother sitting with me on the couch singing Rocky Horror Picture Show.  Nor do I remember my step dad talking to me, or anything.  I do remember yelling at my mom that I wanted a hamburger smoothie and that I had to have Greek yogurt, to which she laughed and told me to shut the hell up.

The day I flew back to Alaska, Alex was going to meet me at the airport.  He had my car, after all.  When I landed in Fairbanks, I was still a little out of it from the meds, but I saw him at the baggage claim, standing there with a worried look on his face.  When he saw me, he opened his arms and I ran to him, refusing to let go of him.  There were a few people there cooing and awing, but we had only been apart a week, and to us, it felt like an eternity.

We got my suitcase and went back to his dorm.  We fell asleep holding hands.

The next morning I had to go back to Fairbanks to find out when I was supposed to work at the deli, and I knew that I had to work that night at the bowling alley, but I was still kind of out of it.  I had to take a Vicodin the night before and I don’t think it was completely out of my system.  I was also jet lagged.  That day, it was mid-January and it was -44 outside with drifting snow.

I was a fearless driver, never afraid of speeding and never afraid of anything happening to me because come on, nothing bad ever happens to me.  I was naïve.

I fell asleep behind the wheel for an instant, going 65 on the highway with drifting snow.  When I woke up, I saw I was going head first into a snow bank, I overturned, spun out of control, and my car flipped and landed in the ditch.

It all happened so fast that I didn’t even realize what was happening.  The car was spinning then suddenly I was upside down, the roof of my car had caved in and was nearly touching my head, the engine turned off, stuff was everywhere, and I was staring at a St Christopher medal that was on my visor.  I saw cars driving by, I saw the snow falling, and the seatbelt was causing me pain for restraining me in my chair.

I actually never saved the picture of my flipped car, but it looked pretty much like this.

I actually never saved the picture of my flipped car, but it looked pretty much like this.

I remembered I started screaming, but it seemed so far away.  I didn’t feel like I was in my body because I was so scared.  I remember seeing a woman a few feet away from my window, looking in to the window.  I started to pound on the window, screaming for help and she ran away.  I was trapped upside down, unable to move, my body paralyzed with fear.  I found my phone somehow and dialed the last number I had called.

It was Alex.

He picked up on the second ring, a little bit of fun in his voice.  “Did you butt dial me?” he said with a chuckle.


Let me tell you, not the best way to go about this kind of situation.  I could only scream.  I remember him trying to calm me down and say it without screaming and I continued to be hysterical, screaming that I was probably going to die because it was -44 outside that day and I was in the ditch somewhere between North Pole and Fairbanks.   Oh, and because I was trapped upside down.  Can’t forget that bit.  The blood was going to my head.

He said he was going to hang up and have the dispatcher call me.  I cried that I didn’t want him to hang up and he did.  A few minutes later a dispatcher called me and told me to stay calm.  In the few minutes where I was waiting for my phone to ring, I pushed myself up into my seat and unclasped the seatbelt and slid to the roof of my car, laying on the ceiling, no longer upside down.  The dispatcher asked me if I was okay, and I told her no because I had just paid off the car and cut the insurance.  She asked me if I was physically injured and I told her no.

However, when you have that much adrenaline, you don’t feel anything.  The fire department, an ambulance, and the state troopers arrived and they asked me if I could crawl to the back seat and climb out the back window.

I had so much shit in my car that I couldn’t leave the front seat.  They asked me if I had a blanket to cover my face and I pulled it over and covered my face while they used a sledge hammer to break the window.  The pulled the blanket away from me and placed it over the broken glass while I crawled out the window.

Since this day was a horrible day, my ass got stuck in the window.  Since I was still hysterical from flipping my car and being totally fucking broke, I started screaming because my ass was trapped in that fucking car.  I think the responders were trying not to laugh at my yelling, “OH MY GOD MY ASS IS STUCK! I’M GOING TO DIE!”

I got into the ambulance and they gave me a once over, making sure I still had feeling in my legs and arms, checking my blood pressure, which was 180 over 120.  Apparently that’s really fucking high.

My eyes were fully dilated, I was shaking, I was cold, but I was alive.  They told me if I hadn’t of worn my seatbelt, I’d be dead.  If it had been summer and there was no snow to cushion the fall, the car would have compressed more and I would have died, if the glass had shattered in the right way, it would have blinded me.  All the conditions were perfect for me to come out injury free for the most part.

As they were telling me this, I realized my hand feel really warm.  I looked down and saw that it was covered in warm blood.  Since my adrenaline was still ridiculously high, I screamed “OH MY GOD I’M BLEEDING TO DEATH!”

A small piece of glass was taken out of my hand and they put a band aid on it, cleaning the blood off.  The cut didn’t even need stitches, but my blood pressure was so high that it was flying out of me.

They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I didn’t have health insurance so I couldn’t afford it.  They called a tow truck and I waited in the troopers car.  I got my phone and called Alex, telling him I was fine and I was broke and had no idea what to do.  I called my mom and got her voicemail, telling her to call me when she promised to not get mad.  I called my roommate to tell her that I got into an accident and I was okay.  I called my managers at each job and told them that I couldn’t work that day because I had no transportation because I totaled my car.

When my mom called me, she said she wouldn’t get mad.  She promised.  And I told her I flipped and totaled my car. She asked me if I was hurt, I said no.  Then she started to scream at the top of her lungs.  I almost dropped the phone.

The tow truck driver yelled at me because the key was missing from the ignition, but I had no idea where it had fallen.  I thought it was in the engine.  To this day, I have no idea where that key went.  They towed the car to the house I was staying at, and I did the one thing that I had wanted to do since the car started spinning out of control.

I really had to shit.

That whole, “Always wear clean underwear when you get into a car accident,” is no lie.  My god, since the moment the car went upside down, it was painful to hold in.  It was so fucking insane, I was so relieved to see a toilet.  There is no greater happiness than seeing a toilet after you total your car.

Hello beautiful... I am going to destroy you

Hello beautiful… I am going to destroy you

My coworker at the bowling alley offered to pick me up and take me to the Air Force Base to see Alex, and I really needed to work.  I went into work, letting Alex know I was on base, and told my manager that I wanted to work my shift after all.

She said I was fucking crazy.  And she was right.  I should not have worked.

Now one thing, when I flipped the car, I almost died.  I saw my life flash before me, but not like seeing all these things that I had done.  I saw all the things I didn’t do.  All the things I wanted to do in my life.  I saw Alex in a way I never saw him before.  I saw myself growing old with him, I saw him not just as my boyfriend, but as my companion, my husband, my soul mate.  When I was trapped upside down, all I thought through all of that, besides emptying my bowels, was, “If I get out of this alive, I have to tell Alex I love him.”  Alex and I had talked marriage, but I didn’t realize just what that entailed, and after flipping my car and nearly dying, I realized exactly what that meant.  I didn’t want to spend another day without Alex.  I wanted to grow old with him.  I wanted to wake up next to him every day, to fight with him, to buy a house together.  I wanted all that mushy stuff.  I was tired of moving every few months, I was tired of working two full time jobs just to make ends meet.  I was tired of being so lonely.  I was tired of being so damn strong.  I wanted to be able to lean on someone, even if just for an instant.  I wanted Alex to be with me for the rest of my life, and I realized at that moment exactly what that entailed.

As soon as he found out I was at work, he had the troll drive him to the bowling alley.  When he saw me, he went from walking to full blown sprinting. I didn’t even see him enter the building, but my manager did, and she started giggling when she saw him run.  He tackled me, squeezing me so tight I coucouldn’teathe.  He touched my face, he felt to make sure I wasn’t hurt, he kissed me.  He was almost in tears.

To say the least, I found out he felt the same way.

I was only able to work a few hours of my shift.  When the adrenaline calmed down, I was so dizzy that I nearly passed out.  I was trying not to cry.  I was so incredibly exhausted that I didn’t know what was going to happen to me.  My coworker said she’d cover the rest of my shift and my manager said it was okay for me to leave.  I was going to walk to Alex’s dorm, which was about a quarter of a mile away, but my coworker called her husband and had him drive me the short distance.  He offered to walk me to the door, but I said no and walked myself.

When I got to Alex’s dorm, he just sat and held me as I started to cry.  I had no idea what was going to happen.  I couldn’t afford a new car.  I could barely afford my rent.  Alex wasn’t allowed to live off base so we couldn’t get an apartment together unless we got married.  I was afraid of what the coming months had in store for me.

The next day my body was so sore and stiff that I couldn’t even move.  It hurt just to sit up.  So I called into work and my manager had already given my shift away because she knew I’d be sore.  Alex didn’t have a car, and since he’s an asshat in situations like this, he made me walk all over base to get anything I’d need for the next few days.  That was the most painful day of my life.

A week later I was back to working both jobs, taking a taxi to work or having my friend pick me up to go to the base.  My mom gave me a loan of cash to buy a ’97 Buick LeSabre, which I drove for two years.  When I went back to work at Safeway, my manager told me that I was no longer dependable and that I needed to quit or she’d find a way to fire me.

But Alex came to the rescue…


Have you ever almost died?  Have you ever been in a situation where you were given an ultimatum?  Did your significant other ever save your life?  Let me know in the comments!

Four Years A Bride: The First Date

Alex and I had a strange start.  He was kind of a stalker, and after that email, he would text me frequently to get to know me more, something that I found more annoying than anything.  I hate using my cell phone.  More often than not, I forget I have the damn thing.

But he wanted to date me, and I had to give him credit, he did not give up.

Never gonna give you up

Never gonna give you up

When it came close to the first date, two of my coworkers stated that they wanted to see who it was that I was going to go on a date with.  They were convinced he was a serial killer, but when I said the date was in his dorm, they calmed down.  You see, on a military base, if you yell SARC, ten people will come to your aid and whomever you’re yelling SARC about will automatically be detained until further investigation.  Kind of, guilty until proven innocent for sexual assault.

Which was perfect since I was going to be hanging out in his bedroom for our date.

He asked me to drive to his dorm, which was around a quarter of a mile away.  It was in Alaska, in the middle of winter, and I told him that if he wanted to go out with me, he’d walk to the bowling center to meet me.  Twenty minutes later he walked in the door and asked me if I was ready to go.

“Hang on, my friends want to meet you,” I had told him.  He walked right over to them and started talking to them.

“Hey there!  I’m taking this beautiful girl to my dorm to cook her some stir fry and watch a movie, is that okay with you?”

To say the least, my friends were stunned.  They had expected him to be fairly nonchalant and just give a wave, but he called me beautiful, he sort of asked their permission, and he told them exactly what was planned.  They approved.

They were shocked he was so gentlemanly

They were shocked he was so gentlemanly

So we got into my car and went to the commissary to get the stuff needed for chicken stir fry, when we ran into a girl Alex had recently taken on a date.  She was a year younger than me and when she saw Alex with me, she started to send him nasty texts and gave me a dirty look.  He informed me that after a week of dating she was trying to make plans with him that were six months to a year in advance.  I couldn’t help but laugh, calling him a heart breaker.

We got to his dorm and I sat in his kitchen, watching him cook, while he told me about himself.  I saw that he was better looking than I had first realized, that he was just really forward because he’s just.. well, very forward.  He was the third of seven kids total in his family, his parents were divorced when he was six years old, same as me, he was raised everywhere, he went to culinary school before he was in the military, and he wanted to be a responsible adult.

I couldn’t help but respect him more and more throughout the entire date.

When he finished cooking the food, he leaned in, less than an inch from my face, and I think he was going to say something snarky, but I kissed him instead.  Just a peck, but it surprised both of us.

That night, we watched “Yes Man,” where he explicitly pointed out the scene where Jim Carrey said, “Your furniture looks great form the yard.”  And since I had been working so much that week, halfway through the movie I ended up falling asleep.  I woke up under the covers, Alex wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, and his arm around me.

“I didn’t want to wake you up, is it okay if I just hold you?” he had asked me sweetly.

I told him sure and passed out.  The next morning he gave me coffee in bed and I dropped him off at work, and I went to my job at the deli, thinking about that really weird date.

The day before our second date, he went to the bowling center to get a bite to eat.  I had told my coworkers about the date and when he walked in, my friend E ran up to him and said, “ARE YOU LEAH’S BOYFRIEND NOW?!”

He was shocked at her outward display of curiosity, and he responded the only way he could think to.

“Oh I hope so.  I really like her.”

She texted me and told me that, and I felt better.  When I saw him the next day, I had him recount that conversation.  After he told it to me, he turned to me and said, “So, am I being hopeful?  Are you my girlfriend?  Please be my girlfriend.”

That was December 10th, 2010.  And I said yes.  So we were dating.


Fear not, how I ended up getting a wedding ring will be next in this saga.  What was your first date like with your significant other?  Was it awkward or awesome?  Let me know in the comments!


Four Years A Bride: How I Met Alex

I’ve been trying to find a way to write this post for quite some time.  I feel that it’s a sweet story, with tons and tons of hilarity.  But also some moments of WTFness and I feel I’m finally ready to share.

I should start at the beginning.  Back in 2010, I dropped out of college at UAF for a variety of reasons.  I wasn’t mature enough to take college seriously, I didn’t want to move back to Minnesota, I had convinced myself that I was happy working at a deli for barely above minimum wage, and I was having more fun doing underage drinking and staying out until four in the morning than actually studying.  Also, I was an English Literature major, and English Lit majors never find jobs.  It’s just a fact of life.

Why yes, I can analyze Shakespeare... I just can't do actual work

Why yes, I can analyze Shakespeare… I just can’t do actual work

So I cut my losses after two years of school and dropped out.  I started renting an apartment from an army guy and a girl who lived in my dorm freshman year.  I lived there for five months before moving into a house with three women as old as my mother, while working full time at the deli.  I eventually got a job at Eielson Air Force Base as a cook at the bowling center.

So from 7 in the morning until three in the afternoon, I worked in a deli.  Then from 4 until 10 I worked as a short order cook in a bowling alley.  I would work for weeks at a time without a day off, and overall I was just exhausted.  But I wanted to prove I could survive on my own.

About a month after working at the bowling alley, I had gotten an account on Plenty Of Fish, a dating website that I do not recommend to anyone.  It was awful.  But right before one of my best friends got married, I got an email on my Plenty of Fish Account.

The picture was of a man who had coke bottle thick glasses, a goofy smile, and a shaved head.  His email was novel length (in his defense, my profile was also novel length), but it had weird comments in it, such as, “Is it too soon to say I love you?  We should get together sometime soon.  Where do you work?  I’ll stop in and try out your cooking.”

This person hadn’t even met me before, and it all just came off as so damn creepy.  I explicitly said “Only Midwesterners or Alaskans should contact me, I’ve never much cared for east coasters or southerners, and west coasters don’t really have the work ethic I care for.”

I know that sounds biased, but I’m a hard worker (at least I like to think I am) and whenever I’ve worked with Californians, it seems that they have no sense of urgency, which drives me batty.

This person informed me that he was raised on both coasts.  Born in Connecticut, from age 6 until after high school he lived in California, but spent a good deal of time in Maine, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, New York and North Carolina.  He also had family from Missouri.

To say the least, he was very detailed in his information.  And it just went on and on.

So I did what any sane person would do: I told him to leave me the hell alone.

He emailed me back within ten minutes, asking me why I thought he was being a creeper.  I told him that I had no interest in dating military men.  Also that his picture was creepy and I didn’t much care for the pedo-stache.  He changed his profile picture immediately, asking if I liked him without the mustache.

He looked far less creepy, but he still wasn’t really my type  All I could think was how rude every east coaster had been that I’ve met.  And I was afraid that if I said the wrong thing to him, he’d flip out.

I told him he looked less creepy, and he should back the eff off.

Far less creepy without the stache

Far less creepy without the stache

He emailed me one more time, asking me to just let him take me on one date so he could prove himself.  I told him no.  So he said he’d leave me alone.

Since I’m really, really weird, I had to show everyone this horribly creepy email that he sent.  I was at my friend J’s house, her daughter was doing homework and we were having a glass of wine in her living room.  When it came to dating, I liked to talk to her.  She was 14 years my senior and was that in-between of the wisdom I needed, but the modernity I needed to seek advice.  She wasn’t old fashioned and she knew what she was talking about.

When she read the email, she gave me a dark look.

“He doesn’t sound creepy, Leah, he sounds lonely,” she mused.

I shook my head.  “Really?  I thought he sounded horribly creepy.”

She pointed at some of the sentences in the email.  “No, see?  I bet you he just got stationed here and he’s fresh out of basic training.  He probably hasn’t had a real friend since before basic.  If he is new here, you should give him the benefit of the doubt and go out with him once.  For all you know, he could be prince charming.”

I thought about this, and since I was fairly tipsy, I emailed him, with J looking over my shoulder.

My friend said I should give you the benefit of the doubt.  When were you stationed here and when did you first join the military?

He responded fairly quickly.

I joined eight months ago and I got stationed here about two months ago.  I still haven’t met anyone really and I really didn’t want to come to Alaska.  Why do you ask?

Shit, J was right.  I felt horrible for treating him so poorly.

I’ll make you a deal, if you can guess where I work on base, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.  I’ll give you a hint, I work where they make the best food on base.

He waited a day to respond, to which he asked if I worked at the Enlisted Club.  I was deeply offended, the Enlisted Club was awful at that base.

Hell no, I work at the bowling alley.

I’m stupid, if you can’t tell.

The day after I sent that message, I got to work a few minutes early and I saw a guy at a table checking out his phone.  I didn’t think anything of it so I went into the back office to clock in.  When I came out, the guy I saw sitting was at the front counter, and the top of my head only barely reached his shoulder.  He had a shaved head, coke bottle thick glasses, and his name tape matched his screen name on Plenty of Fish.


He was first to speak.  “I know you!”

I stopped dead in my tracks.  I was greasy from working my morning job, I hadn’t changed into my evening job uniform yet, it was -20 outside so my cheeks were really red from the cold, and my facial expression was deadpan.

“I don’t know you,” I retorted, casually walking towards the snackbar.  Since his legs are ridiculously fucking long, he caught up to me with no effort at all.

“Well I know you, your furniture looks great from the yard.”

Totally legit

Totally legit

I stopped to look at him.  “What?” Is this fucker stalking me?

He realized his mistake.  “Oh no, it’s a quote from a movie.  Come to my dorm and I’ll show you.”



As you can see, he isn’t the smoothest chap.

“How about no?”

“Hey, you said if I figured out where you work, you’d let me take you out on a date.”

“But I told you, so it doesn’t count.”

“It totally counts.  How about your next day off?  My treat.”

Since I was broke, I figured why not.  And I figured that if I went on one date with him, he’d leave me alone.  Besides, he was pretty cute in that nerdy type of way, and his voice was so high pitched that he seemed harmless.  So I agreed…

Don’t worry, there’s more story to come.  How did you meet your significant other?  What kind of creepers have you met?  Let me know in the comments!


Damn Retarded Yankee

So today, apparently, I was upgraded from a “Damn Yankee” to a “Damn Retarded Yankee.”

This confuses me too, since us yanks are far more educated on average than the average confederate.  Or southerner. Or whatever the hell they’re called.


Basically these assholes.

Basically these assholes.

Anyway, after I got off work, I noticed that my nose was full of black heads.  One thing anyone who is in my very close inner circle knows is that I’m OCD with my skin care.  I don’t wear makeup or sun screen, but I moisturize my face every night and always have the high end lotions and lip balms to make sure my skin always looks fresh.  I have a professional waxer for my eyebrows and mustache, and overall, I’m just very OCD with my skin.

Today I noticed I had a lot of black heads and I needed nose strips, because apparently I love to induce pain to get rid of black heads.  So on my way home from work, I walked into Walgreens and got what I needed.  I stepped in line and I was the third person in line.  An elderly black woman was behind me and a tiny little white guy was in front of me.  The white guy was buying some cold medicine and was minding his own business.  He looked grumpy and mean and ‘murican, so I turned to the woman behind me.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” I said to her.  She smiled.

“Yes, I love this cold weather.”

Good, someone who shared my likeness for the cold.  “Oh I love it.  When it’s cold like this, I open all the windows and put a bunch of the blankets on the bed and wrap up like a cocoon.”

The woman was about to respond to my comment, when the guy in front of me practically yelled.

“That’s just retarded.  I’m sorry, you’re retarded.”

What the fuck, right?

“Well, I’m a Yankee and I like the cold weather.”

“That makes you a damn retarded Yankee then.”

When I looked up damn retarded yankees, I kept getting pictures of Red Sox Fans

When I looked up damn retarded yankees, I kept getting pictures of Red Sox Fans

Dude.  What the fuck was this guy’s problem?

“Sir, I lived in Alaska.  I don’t deal with the hot weather.”

He continued to talk, which surprised me because I was easily 4 inches taller than him and twice his width.  And I am wonder woman.

“That makes you doubly retarded.  Why would anyone want to live in the cold?”

See, this is how I feel about the south.  Why would anyone want to live in the south?

“Because you’re not sweaty and sticky all the time,” I countered.  The super sweet woman behind me nodded in agreement.

“That’s what air conditioning is for.  Besides, what activities can you do in cold weather?  Nothing, that’s what.”



I was feeling a little frustrated.  “There’s a ton to do in the winter.  Skiing, Skijoring, dog sledding, ice fishing, snow shoeing—,”

Then he cut me off.

“Find warmth.  That’s what you do.  Nothing else.”

Then I had it, this guy was probably perverted.

“You can snuggle up to someone for warmth and see what happens,” I said, rather smugly.  Probably too smugly.

“Yeah, and you can just turn down the AC so it’s hot outside and cold inside so you can snuggle up.”

“THAT WASTES MONEY AND RESOURCES!” I nearly roared, making a few heads turn.

Don't worry, the AC is on and it's a thousand fucking degrees outside

Don’t worry, the AC is on and it’s a thousand fucking degrees outside

“It’s better than living somewhere that’s cold where you’ll be eaten by polar bears.”  He grumbled something else, but I wasn’t sure what.


To which he checked out and repeated I was retarded and that I should have a nice night.

The cashier rang me up and said, “I’m from Nebraska.  I prefer snow too.”

So we high fived for the Midwest and I hugged the lady behind me for helping me out with the moron who thinks I’m retarded.

And believe it or not, I didn’t even hyperbolize this story.  It’s damn near spot on.  Because I’m a magnet for weird fucking encounters.

Have you ever had a random stranger call you retarded?  Have you hugged a stranger and had your wallet not stolen?  What is the weirdest encounter that you’ve had with a stranger?  Tell me in the comments!


No Officer, But I Wish I Did Have A Weapon In The Vehicle

Back in my second year of college at UAF, I made some bad choices.  This is common knowledge.  I skipped class so I could sleep all day, I worked a full time job and skipped class, and I felt that I was invincible, as many twenty year olds feel when they’re away from home.

Anyway, for a very short time I casually dated this guy named Derik.  We didn’t have a lot in common— we both liked Miyazaki movies, he was well traveled, he was an overall interesting guy and he treated me well.  He seemed stable and honest, and I really liked him.

One night, after we had been seeing each other for a few weeks, he starts messaging me on face book.  He tells me he’s really drunk and he would be so happy if I got him some Taco Bell.

Since I’m sober and it’s Saturday night, I decided I would be the good friend and sober his dumb ass up.

How sweet of me, right?

I walk downstairs to his dorm room and he opens the door and falls forward, almost slamming into the ground, but he caught himself on the wall.  I could smell the liquor on him from three feet away.  He put his arm around me and announced we should get Taco Bell.

The taco bell that was closest to UAF was about three miles, so not too far.  As we were driving though, I got a lot of insight as to what kind of person Derik really was.

“You and I would never work as a couple,” he told me, something that hurt me deeply because I did like him a lot.

“Why is that?” I asked him.

“You’re too uptight.  You have no goals in life, and you’re just really awkward and weird.”

I feel my foot push on the gas a little more.  “Oh really, what are your goals in life?” I asked him.

Without even skipping a beat, he said something to me that made me want to punch him in the face.  “My goal in life is to fuck bitches and get high.”

My foot started to push  more on the gas. “Fuck bitches and get high?  How high are you right now?”

“I had two hits from a roach clip right before you picked me up.  But seriously though, you’re just too uptight and trying to take the fun out of fucking everything.  It’s so damn annoying.  Go smoke some pot and calm your ass down.”

The petal was to the metal at that point, we were going at least twenty over in this area.

“You listen here asshole,” I started to say, getting angrier as I spoke.  “I don’t want to be living on the streets with addiction and I don’t want to be living off of my parents for ever, so you can just shut your mouth.”

I’ve never been good with comebacks.  He started to gnaw at me more, saying more hurtful things… Until the cop car behind us turned on his lights.

I was so livid at Derik that I didn’t even care.  I pulled over, and Derik, who had been drinking and doing drugs that evening, paled as the cop came to the car.

Well hello...

Well hello…

“License and registration,” the cop asked.  I started to reach for my registration when the cop spoke again.  “Do you have any weapons in the car?”

“I fucking wish,” I said angrily, practically throwing the items at the cop.

This cop knew me.  I made his lunch every day.  He had a spark of recognition when he saw my license and my angry face.

He gave me a look, and I cleared my throat.  “Uh, no, I don’t sir.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked me.  I point to the asshole next to me.

“This asshole is really pissing me off.”

You should have heard the squeak that came from Derik.  His eyes were the size of plates, his face was ghastly white, and he was still.

“Is there going to be a chance of domestic violence?” the cop asked me.

“No sir, I’ll kick his ass before he can get his fists up,” I told the cop.  Derik looked at me, thinking I was serious.

The cop gave me back my license and registration.  “Just slow down, okay?  And calm down.”

The cop went back to his car and drove off.

Derik let out a sigh of relief.

“I take it back, you’re a fucking god.”

The next day, he couldn’t remember what happened so he messaged me asking me if I wanted to come over.  I told him what happened and that I had no desire to see him again.  He apologized profusely, saying he didn’t mean it and didn’t remember any of it.  He admitted that he was blacked out drunk, but those words cut me pretty deep.

To say the least, we weren’t really seeing each other anymore.  But I wish him well.

Have you ever met someone and found out some nasty stuff about them?  Ever had a crush on someone and they were nothing like you thought they were?  Ever tell a cop you wish you had a weapon?  Let me know in the comments!


When Going On A Date, Always Bring A Knife

I’ve been confined to my house in recent weeks so I’m running a little low on stories, but fear not, I have an unlimited supply of weird stories of when I was a young college student at the University Of Alaska Fairbanks.

Best. School. Ever.

Best. School. Ever.

Shortly after I dropped out, I joined a couple of dating sites.  I was rooming with an army guy and a girl who I knew from the dorms in a tiny little apartment in the hills just outside Fairbanks.  They were the Yak Estates, for anyone who knows Fairbanks.  My male roommate was a total jerk, but the female roommate was one of the best roommates I’ve ever had.  And I miss living with her quite a bit.

Anyway, the three of us would have a lot of good times drinking, throwing parties, watching movies, all that jazz.  I had a lot of good times in that apartment.

Shortly after I moved in there, my roommate suggested I join a dating site so I can get out and meet people, since I was really  never leaving the apartment after I got off my 8 hour shifts at the deli.  I shrugged, figuring why not, and joined a dating site.

While exploring the dating sites, there was one person that stood out to me, but not for the reasons you’d think.  I’m very big on gay rights, and I’m very supportive for people following their passions, no matter what it is.  Alaska isn’t conservative, so to speak, but they’re extremely libertarian and bordering on anarchist.  People mostly just want to be left alone to do their own thing, but the whole gay rights thing was a little behind the times because it just wasn’t something you’d typically talk about.  At all.

Not a popular topic up north

Not a popular topic up north

The person I found was a man who was working on becoming a woman.  When I met her, she was still a man and had just started looking into the surgery, would wear minimal make up, and was a martial arts instructor.  I messaged her, telling her that I was just blown away that she was announcing her plans to turn into a woman and I fully admired her decision.  I even asked if she wanted to get coffee because I was eager to talk to someone who was passionate about gay rights like I was.  She agreed, and we met at a coffee shop.

I was ordering coffee when she came in, and she was dressed like a lumber jack.  What I wasn’t expecting, was that she was two inches shorter than me and maybe 140 pounds.  But I figured since I’m an Amazonian in stature and Midwestern, I was going to have a hard time meeting anyone taller or bigger than me.  We got coffee and talked for a few hours.  She was really interesting, worked in a mental hospital, very well-rehearsed on Buddhist and Taoism, so we talked mostly about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  We exchanged numbers, I gave her a hug, and we parted ways.

A couple days later, she asked me to go out again.  I didn’t think anything of it, and she said she wanted to get to know me.  On our first encounter, I told her that I would never date her, but I would love to be friends.

We decided to drive around the outskirts of Fairbanks, because we both felt that car rides are the best way to get to know someone.  About an hour into the driving around, she turned to me and asked me why I didn’t want to date her.

“Well, no offense, but I’d break you in half,” I told her honestly.  I was more than double her weight.  She laughed.

“My ex fiancé was over 250 pounds, I’ve always preferred heavier women.”

I was a little confused.  “So, you like women?”

She nodded.  “Just because I want to be a woman doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to them.  I dated a few men and they’re fine for sex, but I could only ever love a woman.”

This made sense to me, and we continued to talk, me still thinking that I’d break this poor person in half.  We get to the top of a hill, about five miles from the nearest house, and she pulls the truck over and cuts the gas.

“Alright, there’s where I’m going to bury your body.”  She pointed to the ditch where a large field of wildflowers and rosehips grew.  I first thought of how pretty the flowers were, then the words sunk in a little bit.

We both laugh, then I turn around and see the shovel in the back of his truck.



All the blood leaves my face, and she didn’t break eye contact.

A few minutes pass, then she turns the truck on again.  “I’m just fucking with you.  I’ve always wanted to do that to someone.”

Relief washed over me and we went to Denny’s to talk more.  She was really nice, and after hanging out a few more times, I started to date someone else and I never heard from her again.

A few months after that incident, I started working on base and met Alex.  So I guess everything happens for a reason.

So that’s how someone half my size nearly murdered me in the Alaskan wilderness.

So, tell me, what are your thoughts? What weird, over the top dating experiences have you had? Anyone pull a prank on you while on a date early on? Let me know in the comments!