First and foremost, go to this link. Engagement photos that will make you happy you are single: http://www.buzzfeed.com/nataliem15/14-engagement-photos-that-will-make-you-happy-you-a0ne?sub=2138772_1060311

Now, I have so many things to say.
Number 1. The caption is funny. However, this picture really isn't that terrible. They may have gotten a decent one out of the bunch and she is just smiling funny in this one. That being said, what is up with the brown and black sweaters?
Number 2. He's about to suck her face. He's about to give her a face hickey. She's posing for the strong woman photo and he's going for the toothless vampire suck. Also, I'm pretty sure they're holding hands out spread eagle-like. Her eye contact basically challenges you to judge her. Balls.
Number 3. He's exhaling so hard after breathing in her scent that her hair is blowing back. Yes, sensual.
Number 4. This one made me laugh out loud alone in my apartment. I feel really dumb when that happens. At least I've learned now not to sit in my computer chair--fell off once and bruised my butt. Anyway back to the picture, a king and his queen. I wonder if the wedding was also royally themed. This is like a bad prom photo--because, you know, prom has a theme. I didn't know engagement pictures did. It's not even Disneyland. Maybe I could excuse it if it were Disney? No probably not.
Number 5. She looks like she's in a sappy country music video. He looks like he's doing a sit up or trying to poop. Both of them have wet pants. I don't know about you, but there are few things I dislike more than when the bottom of my pants get wet. I hope this was the last picture they took and not the first.
Number 6. Are they trying to be funny about not dumping each other or does she seem to think that if he marries her he will no longer be dumping as in dropping a duce? He's squatting in the position. If it's the latter, she's in for a rude awakening because as we know, everybody poops.
Number 7. I have no words. That man is comfortable in his sexuality: manpris AND fairy wings.
Number 8. He could have at least gotten a tan.
Number 9. When I was first scrolling down, I thought the parking meters were going to be something with her boobs the way their hands are placed. I'm not sure which would be more weird, what I thought or what is actually going on. Maybe they met at a parking meter?
Number 10. Please tell me who you are giving that engagement photo to? Your grandma to frame? The newspaper with your announcement? Are you going to display it proudly on your desk at work?
Number 11. Another fairy. I like how their individual photos are laid into the background. Classy.

This just goes to show you that there is someone out there for everyone. Don't settle for anything less than the man who will wear fairy wings with you. Unless you hate fairies--you know, do your thing. People aren't perfect but there is flawed person to perfectly match your flaws--someone's weird will match your weird. I'll be looking for the guy to dress up in his cloak and wand with me for our pictures. Look for it in 10 years.

     My dear friend Joel is leaving the gym where we have worked together and discussed all of life's big questions for the last few months together. Mostly we hash out our problems and give each other advice--probably him giving me more advice than me giving it to him. We all know I know nothing about boys and that boys are idiots. I need all the help I can get and Joel is good at that. I like to think I provide him with a least a little entertainment. This week we had some fun conversations:

Monday: Chills and Thrills--Biggest Fears.
     Joel is going camping this weekend with his girlfriend and other couple. In the Ozarks. He made a comment that he might be attacked by inbreeds (inbreds? I don't know the noun form of this word) like in the movie Wrong Turn. That is my biggest physical fear of all time. We then proceeded to discuss how creepy inbreeds could lurk out of the woods on a winding road and jump into your head lights, causing you to veer off the road and crash and then their entire inbred family will attack. Terrifying. Imagine a snaggle-toothed, hump-backed, stink-eyed inbreed with one gimpy arm staggering into your head lights on a dark road. Horrible. Biggest physical fear ever.
     We also have the same number one fear: failing. Or rather waking up one day and realizing we have regrets or didn't reach our potential. I think this is a common fear for many people. My third biggest fear is letting people know how I feel. To recap my fears: 1. Regret. 2. Inbreeds. 3. Exposure.
     Joel, however, thinks that exposure is a beautiful and exhilarating thing. He said that nothing feels better than throwing it all out into the light, waiting the breathless moment before the other party reacts and then watching how things fall from there. He's brave. I'm a weenie. However, he's probably right. Going out of your comfort zone is exciting. Scary is thrilling. That's why we like roller coasters, right?

Tuesday: Do It.
     Quit being a baby and tell people what you think. Call people out. Tell someone you have feelings for them. Live with no regrets. Light the fire and watch it burn. Okie dokie. Easier said than done.

Thursday: Big Sweeties.
     I told Joel about how I want to buy a house. A. I dislike renting when I think I want to stay here. B. I need a dog. Joel responds with: "That is very big-girl of you. But you don't need a dog. You need a boyfriend."
Me: "No, I need a dog. Someone to always be excited to see me when I get home and love me unconditionally."
Joel: "You just need a boyfriend. One who you aren't paranoid is a booty call."
Me: "I need a big sweetie dog and he will expect nothing but food and snuggles and runs. She. I'd probably have a girl dog."
 Joel: "Would it be weird if I got a girl dog?"
Me: "No, would it be weird if I got a boy dog? I could, you know, get a boy dog."
Joel: "You could."
Me: "It would be weird, though, if you dressed your girl dog in pink tutus and a spiky pink collar."

Life Lessons.

March newsies (New things and News):

Week 1:  I went to a Maroon 5 concert. Fantabulous.

Week 2: I had my first boxing lesson. We have an ex-pro boxer working at the gym and he thought it would be a good idea to teach me how to defend myself while I'm running. At first he refused to teach me how to fight. He thinks I'm too competitive to learn to fight--that I'd be busting faces to prove I could. Now he thinks that's super spunky and it'd be fun to see me fight because I'm so fast. I cannot imagine hitting a person. I'm very glad to know I can defend myself though. POP! POP!--those are my punches: left jab right cross, POP*POP*

Week 3: I had my first personal training lesson. Like I, myself, was trained by a trainer. We got a new trainer who just got his certification but doesn't have any experience training people so he's been practicing on us. It was fun.

Week 4: I kissed someone in public. He was gay. My first gay man to kiss too. He kissed me to ward off a creepy lurker. I also made multiple decisions this week without thinking too much about them. And just let stuff happened. That was nice. I usually overanalyze everything. I tend to ask, "Good idea, bad idea, no opinion?" of everyone I trust to listen. Eh, I'm probably not cured of "Good idea, bad idea, no opinion," but damn it, I'm going to try to make more decisions on my own.

Week 5: I watched my first Creighton basketball game. They lost. It was probably my fault.