I am only here out of guilt.

Aloha you majestical tyrants of the world.

I am writing this beautiful blog post in my new apartment in *drum roll* Provo Utah! *horn goes wah wah waaaaahhhhhhhh*.
After a fanciful adventure across the east coast, Peter and I have settled into our home for the next five years while I complete my PhD. in Marriage and Family Therapy and he does his masters in Public Administration. We're very excited.

It's obviously been a long time since I blogged which is due to a variety of things: discouragement that I'm a terrible blogger, sadness over leaving Hawaii, busyness in adventuring, and then guilt for not knowing how to summate my life into a readable post. So know this. I am here out of guilt. LOVE ME FOR IT.

Immediately after leaving Hawaii we headed over to Pennsylvania to reunite with the Gregory clan in all its entirety. Here's a fun fact about my life: I married into a family quite different from my own. Even though my father and father-in-law are incredibly similar to each other, and my two mothers seem like they could be distant cousins in many ways, the actual families function like two very distinct and unique cultures.

My family is a fan of things happening when they happen. Sure, we will have a brief concept of a meet up, but plans are rarely meticulously sculpted before they happen. You come here, and I'll meet you there, and life will go as it goes. This is the Meservy way. Not so the Gregorys.

Upon arrival to the reunion each family was presented with a swag bag containing chocolates, T-shirts, and a bound itinerary. As it turns out, I don't have a photograph of this itinerary, nor do I still have it, because blasphemy. Obviously. But, every day was planned out and organised in each page. Each of the 34 family members had a bio, shower schedules were outlined, daily menus planned, and activities had a timetable.

We interrupt your previously scheduled blog post for a poorly placed flashback. 

PAUSE FOR FLASHBACK 

In 2011 when Peter went home to Seattle to prepare for his mission, I Skyped with him daily. Through these daily chats, I met his little sister Shanna. After he left for Japan, Shanna and I kept in touch, and through a series of strange decisions, I was invited to come to Seattle for Thanksgiving with the family.
Upon hearing that I flew out to meet my husband's family alone while he was on his mission and before we were even engaged most people say "Why?" To them I answer, "because I was insane."

The entire trip I received many texts from my sister and friends asking if I had broken the toilet yet, seeing as that was my biggest fear about the entire trip. I believe they were mocking me with their checkups, but honestly, who can blame me for being terrified?! Wouldn't that just be the worst impression to ever leave with the family of the boy you're in love with? Prior to my trip I spent hours talking with my therapist about my genuine terror of clogging the Gregory family toilet. Such a thing would have been especially terrible had Peter and I ended up breaking up and not being friends post mission.

Gregory family member: "Hey, Peter. Do you remember that one girl who was so in love with you that she came out to see us while you were on your mission?"

Peter: "Oh yeah... I remember her. She was fun."

GFM: "Yeah, she was... fun. Although she broke the toilet."

Peter: "She what?"

GFM: "We never told you that? Oh yeah. She went to the bathroom and then didn't come out for like an hour. We heard screams and water splashing, and when she finally came out she just begged us to forgive her. The toilet was totally busted."

Peter: "Busted how? Like, broken? or clogged?"

GFM: "Yes. Any way that a toilet can potentially be broken. The poop was everywhere, and the seat was just destroyed. We essentially had to completely redo the upstairs bathroom all because your girlfriend has toilet issues."

Peter: "Wow. Dodged a bullet there."

MY LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN OVER FOREVER!

Anyway, luckily I didn't poop the entire weekend (just kidding, I'm pretty sure I had normal bowel movements (I know you were concerned)) and people loved me, and Peter and I later got all murried and stuff, so really this family reunion was amateur hour compared to my 2011 introduction.

Therefore, my nerves regarding this family get together had less about breaking toilets and more about whether I would go mad after a week and a half of close family time with the in-laws. Turns out, I will not go mad, and the Gregorys are a good clan to be a part of. I spent most of my time snuggling cute niblings and observing the adults interact, much like an anthropologist except I wasn't being mauled for touching the cubs. Here are my top five lessons learned about the Gregory folks.

1. If Fiddler on the Roof is playing, you sing along. It doesn't matter what time it is.
The earliest rendition of the musical I experienced was at 6:30am on a Thursday. I have high hopes that I will never hear Matchmaker this early again for as long as I live.

2. Dog piles are a constant presence.
I really have never witnessed as many dog piles in my life. Quick way to end one, is for me to get involved, seeing as I was new enough for people to still be furtive around me. First rule of dog piles: You must be a seasoned Gregory in order to participate.

3. Gregory women cluck like roosters/hens when they laugh together.
I can't believe I never audio recorded this phenomenon. I have only my own attempts to replicate it.

4. When playing a game, if you're not willing to lose all your friends, you're not playing hard enough.
Competition runs hard in the family. Don't start what you're not willing to give everything to finish.

5. Everyone yells. A lot.
This is something I assume most large families can relate to. With eight Gregory siblings, seven Gregory spouses, and several litters of Gregory spawn, voices get loud and stay that way. You must be heard to be part of the herd.

I am grateful to have married in to such a wonderful and loving family. Many people complain about their in-laws, but I'm blessed to have it pretty fantastic.

Boo, you horcrux

I have another illness. It's one that is ruining my voice and making me very sleepy but restless. Sick voices are pretty amusing, though, and so today's blog post is a video one. MY VERY FIRST VLOG, kinda sorta. Anyway, enjoy. We discuss horcruxes.

I'm dyeing over here!

Wanna know how to look like a superfly rockstar? Lemme tell you.

I've been dyeing my hair purple since December of last year. Originally the plan was to dye my entire head of hair purple but then Peege was all, "I'd really prefer it if you didn't," and I said, "okay, darling, but that means don't grow a moustache" and he was like, "no problem, can't anyway." Communication, people. The best.

I have never been the greatest at dyeing my hair, (even though I enjoy doing it), and in trying to dye the ends of my hair every two months I found that I would magically turn my bathroom, chest, and hands all totally purple for a week afterwards. (TADAHHHH!) It was always totally worth it, but embarrassingly messy. Now, two dye jobs away from needing to stop forever with my purple ways, I have mastered it. Let me show you my punklovin' ways, my peeps.

Step one: Assemble your tools.
You will need the dye of your choice. I wholeheartedly recommend Punky Color brand, but whatever shade you choose is up to you. This month I have opened a new jar (seriously, just one jar lasted me forever, I bought two together in January) and it's Plum. Previously I used Violet, aaaand I think I liked it better. Both smelled lovely, but Plum seems to be pinker.
Aluminium foil.
Wax paper to hold your dyeing goods and keep your counter tops clean.
Plastic/latex gloves. 
A hair dye brush.  
A mindless TV show/movie to keep you occupied. 

Step two: Divide and conquer.

Separate your hair into small sections and begin. Using a square of aluminium foil and your brush, paint dye onto your ends. Just smother it in. Ohhh yeaahhhhh. Attempt to take a photo for your blog, but fail.

Use black gloves for added swagger.

The blurrier the picture, the more action packed the dye job. 

Step three: Foiled!

After applying your desired amount of dye to your desired section of hair, wrap that mofo up. Parcel your hair like it is a Christmas present to your future self. Take more uncomfortable pictures. 

It's hard to take modest pictures when you're secretly naked. 

Ah, yissss. Dye jobs. Foreva. 

 Step four: Treat yo'self!

Take some time to lounge around your house enjoying your guilty pleasures. Write an informative blog post on how to do something ridiculously simple. Let that dye sit and fester. Consider looking up better words than "fester" to describe things on your body.

I do recommend cleaning up your work space immediately after finishing your application process. A lot of the mess that I would previously get happened because I allowed my brush to sit in the drain, or left my gloves drip drying. Use your wax paper to wipe as much dye from your brush as possible (while still wearing your gloves) and then rinse off both gloves and brush in the shower or bathtub until the water runs clear. Allow gloves and brush to air dry on more wax paper. NO DRIP DRYING! You can do it. I believe in you.

Step five: Take a shower.

Hop in the shower and wash yo'self, removing the aluminium foil as you go. You will look sexy fine in no time. No selfie as I post this, because I am still enjoying step four as I type this. Maybe I'll post one later if you're lucky. MAYBE.

Go live your dreams, you majestic land narwhal.
  

I'm Too Sexy.

2007 and 2008 were rough years for me. My family moved to Maryland, USA from Harrogate, England where I had lived for as long as I could remember. I missed my town, I missed my friends, I wasn't making friends in my new school, and I really really hated the new school where I had no friends. It was emotional. I also wasn't getting along with my parents. We were waiting for our visas to come through for us to move to Russia, but never knew exactly when they would be coming. Everyday hinged on a question of if and when we would be leaving Maryland to go to the next assignment. I was acting out at home and not being a very pleasant daughter. The fact that my parents didn't throw me out on my butt is a testament to their genuine goodness in itself. 

While I didn't love my school, I had one class that I really did enjoy. My U.S. Government teacher was eloquent and motivating, and his class was the only one I was in where the students were being truly engaged and challenged. One day he was covering unlawful search and seizure, and I was selected to help do a role play for the class. In this role play, another student and I were found in the girls bathroom with a lit cigarette. When asked if we were smoking, I confessed that yes I was while the other girl denied. My role ended with my being handed a referral and told to sit down. 

The referrals at my school were A4 sheets of paper with two carbon copies. They were handed out for any form of disciplinary action to take place. A troublemaking student would receive one, and be sent to the office immediately to get their punishment. The referrals themselves contained the name of the student, name of the teacher, and a description of the reason why the student was being punished. At the office, the principal would fill in the section that said what punishment would be given. I had never received a referral myself, and so being handed a genuine (and blank) golden ticket to the office was incredibly exciting. 

The girl next to me and I decided a prank could be had. We separated the two carbon copies from the main referral sheet and traded them, so we could fill them out for each other in unknown handwriting and show them to our parents. I cannot remember what we said she did, but I remember mine very well. 

"Melece Meservy has been sent to the office for disciplinary action after she started singing "I'm Too Sexy" loudly in the middle of class. When asked to be quiet, she jumped onto her desk, and began to hop from desk to desk across the classroom while swinging her hips in a suggestive manner." 

Under reason for behaviour, we checked the boxes for "attention" and "reason unclear." Action taken was immediate suspension from school and mandatory visitation with a school counselor. 

I knew that there was no point in me trying to trick my dad into believing that this had actually happened, but I was determined that I could con my mother. I worked hard all the way home on the bus to muster up fear and panic in my eyes and voice. I walked slowly into her room where she was laying in bed reading a book. 

"Mom." I said, "I did something bad." I handed her the paper, and watched her attentively. To my disappointment, she laughed. 

"april fools!" She said, handing me back the paper. 

Nuts. 

I took my failed prank into the kitchen and chucked it on the table. I made myself a snack and busied myself with my homework (probably, actually reading Twilight or watching TV if I'm honest.) A few hours later, I heard a knock at my bedroom door where I lay reading a book (it wasn't Twilight, though, I remember distinctly.) 

"Hello?" I asked. 

My dad entered the room looking somber. I knew something bad had happened because he came in and immediately closed the door behind him before walking over to sit on my bed. 

"How was your day?" He asked 

"Fine." I answered, as eloquent and quick to share as most 16 year olds talking to their parents.

"Did anything happen?" He responded, still staring me down with the upmost danger in his eyes. 

"No...?" I said, now wondering what I have forgotten about. Catching on, I started to laugh. 

"What I saw out there did NOT seem like a laughing matter, Melece" insisted dad, now getting angry. 

"It was a joke, dad!" I laughed hysterically, "I was trying to get mom, but I NEVER thought I'd get you!" 

This is one of my dad's favourite stories to tell. From his point of view, he says that it was one of those days where nothing at all was going right. He had been faced with incompetent coworkers who really ought to have been competent, and was told once again that it would be a "couple" more months before our visas came through. He came home feeling dejected and exhausted, especially knowing that mom and I were struggling. He came into the kitchen to find an official document telling him that I had lost it. 

"She's gone completely insane," he thought to himself sad, and incredulous. "This is awful. This means I have to punish her, but I don't want to. She must have had a complete psychological break." 

And thus my father entered my room burdened with the task of punishing his officially insane teenage daughter, and I got a wonderful laugh out of a tired and lonely week. 

Caution: may contain condom water part II.

Thanks to sick kids and germs, I was home this afternoon. A Facebook notification came across my feed informing me that a friend had tagged me in a discussion on a post in one of my Facebook groups.

Nina: I just can't look at [condoms] without thinking of when Melece filled one up with like a gallon of water. Then I start laughing and I can't get it outta my head SO THANKS Melece for ruining my condom sex life.

Me (with deepest sympathies and great tact): Bahahahahahahahahahahahaha I regret NOTHING.

and thus began a great adventure. 

Taelor: Melece, did you take a picture of that!?

Melece: Just as I was about to it popped. BUT I AM HOME ALONE NOW. BRB.

Melece: Update: I have now burst two condoms and soaked my bathroom. YOLO.

Because I love and care for the happiness of my friends, I posted a video.  

Here are the resulting comments. (Some comments have been omitted for relevancy's sake, and one has been altered entirely to make sense without explanation/back story. Last names have been removed, but first names remain unchanged. Hopefully no one sues me.) 

Katelyn: This is the best thing I've seen all day.

Melece: Oh my gosh, this isn't even in the right group. Sorry, guys!!!
Also, I forgot to hide the condom wrappers. Peter got home a second ago, went to the bathroom to pee and goes, "WHY ARE THERE TWO USED CONDOMS IN THE TRASH? Melly, have you been playing with condom water?! AGAIN?!"
Me: "Oh, no... I forgot to hide those. I didn't think about you noticing them in the trash"
Peter: "You didn't think I would notice that there are TWO used condoms in the trash of the bathroom that I share with my wife?! I leave the house for three hours and come back to find that my wife has used not one, but both of the condoms that we had remaining in my absence. Well. Done. Melly."

Nina: IT WAS FOR SCIENCE OKAY PETER STEP OFF
geez husbands these days just don't understand hahaha

Melece: THEY JUST DON'T GET IT!!! Lawl, sorry this video is upside down for half of it. You all need to hire me to be a videographer for your weddings. CLEARLY.

Nina: Also "condom water" hahaha EW

Melece: Peter watching this video: "I love how funny you think you are."

Taelor: hehehehe thanks for the entertainment!

Nina: Also PSA: don't ask your husband if he has any condoms because he will think you mean sex when actually you just wanna copy Melece and play with condom water.

Melece: You're welcome! These condoms were both an extra challenge because they were lubricated, whereas the first time I did this was with an unlubricated condom. It was like playing in expert mode.

Taelor: HAHAHAHA Nina. Way to ruin Ty's dream.

Nina: Geez where were condoms when we were organizing elementary school SCIENCE projects?!

"Lubed vs unlubed condoms: which holds water better?"

Melece: Peter in response to Nina, "yeah, why would anyone use condoms for sex?! he says with a look of puzzlement. A LOOK OF MOCK PUZZLEMENT. It's supposed to look like a penis, but it just looks like a giant water balloon! WAAAAATER FIIIIIGHT. This one is studded for ultimate throwing pleasure. And this one is flavoured so that when it explodes it is delicious! The boxes shouldn't say 'ribbed for her pleasure,' they should say 'can hold three extra gallons of water!"
He is pacing around the apartment ranting at me. hahahahahahahahahahah I'm laughing so hard.

Me: "my hands smell like condoms."
Peter: "REALLY?! YOU DON'T SAY."

Taelor: Bahahahaha this is the most hilarious thing I've experienced all day!
I need to go buy a condom.

Nina: Hahahahahaha I'm crying. Peter is the best I want to be friends with you guys

Melece: Buy a couple, they burst a lot.

Nina: Taelor considering your current situation that would be such a waste of money

Taelor: Heh heh heh you're right. But I WANNA FILL ONE UP WITH WATER!

Melece: bahahahahahahhahahahahha.
He's reading all these comments over my shoulder, and so he points to Taelor's and goes, "yes, just the one condom. Ask them to take it out of the box. Excuse me, sir, which condom would you recommend for inflation? and by inflation I mean filling it with water. Pretty sure your husband wants to fill one up with a penis."

Nina: "um yeah how much for just ONE condom?"

Katelyn: I need to be writing a paper but THIS IS SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT!

Taelor: SHUT UP I'VE NEVER BOUGHT A CONDOM OK!?!?!

Melece: bahahahahahahahha. Oh, so THAT'S how you got pregnant.

Nina: "Oh what do you mean they only sell them in multiples?? I JUST NEED ONE SIR! FOR SCIENCE!"

Laura: "Please sir, may I have some more?"

Melece: Peter, pointing to Laura's comment: "now THAT's what your husband wants to hear. *holds belly while chuckling* hah hah hah hah"

Taelor: Hi Peter.  I am smarter than I seem.

Nina: ^ there's an idea for spicing up the bedroom. "Oliver Twist" role play and position. We should write a book.

Melece: hahahahaha! It's okay, the only one he is judging here is me.
Peter: "That's not true"

Sara: Now we're all going to make Peter pace across the apartment and rant

Melece: Peter in a british accent: "I'm the artful dodger!"
now he is squirming around the bed going, "nope! you missed! try again, NOPE! MISSED! I AM SO ARTFUL AT DODGING."

Laura: I think I've found a reason why I need to come out to Utah

Sara: Why do you have to be so far away in Hawaii?!

Taelor: Yeah. Surrsly.....

Melece: Peter: "so.... she wants to come to Utah all because you inflated a condom and I made jokes about dodging a penis. Good day for us." :'D

Taelor: Party!!!!!!

Melece: Hahahahah, it's okay. We'll be there in like two months.

Melece: P: "the main activity? inflating condoms. awwwww yeahhhh."

Melece: P: you don't have to write everything I say.

Taelor: DID YOU TELL PETER THAT I SAY HI AND THAT I'M SMARTER THAN I AM ON THE INTERNET.

Melece: hahahaha. I didn't have to. He's reading with me.

Taelor: Oh. HI!

Laura: ::shaking my head::

Melece: My head hurts from laughing. Good talk, ladies. Good talk. Now everyone go do your own experiments and film the results. FOR SCIENCE.

Laura: I will die if I go to a bridal shower this summer, and the question is posed about what the bride is most looking forward to about getting married, because this will be all that I think about lol 😇

Taelor: FOR MEDICINAL PURPOSES.

Hilary: I'm so glad my serious post resulted to this! Best. Thing. Ever! Now I know what to really do with the 30 box of condoms lying around! :')

The end. 

So, your husband is a monster.

There is a trend I see emerging in the beautiful sub-culture of young, married LDS women on Facebook. Like many things I don't understand, it angers me. I am going to try and discuss it here to vent my building aggression towards strangers. Bear with me.

Pornography is something that both science and religion disapprove of. Recently there has been an influx of people being willing to openly disparage the affects that pornography has on individuals and families. This is wonderful news. Hopefully with the recognition of the damage that is done by indulging in such a dangerous material, many people will be able to avoid ever facing a pornography habit or addiction in their life. Hearts and smiles, I'm totally with you here. 

Where I get lost is when I see a wife crying out for help with her husband's addiction. Yes, help is important in this instance! It is important for him to work on climbing above his addiction, and it is crucial for the marriage for both spouses to establish their communication and understanding of each other like never before. What I don't understand is this:

[Young married woman posting on Facebook]: HELP! My husband has a porn addiction :( :( :( I feel like I cant trust him anymore. He is a monster, and he has been cheating on me with this smut. What do I do???? 

[other young married women commenting]: YOU DESERVE BETTER. HE IS A MONSTER. GIVE HIM AN ULTIMATUM. IT IS YOU OR THE PORN. 

Hold up. Let's just hold on to our knickers before we run around streaking here. Yes, porn is a terrible thing, yes your feelings of betrayal and hurt are valid and reasonable, but how in the world do you propose getting through this and repairing your relationship if you are slandering your spouse with strangers online? This issue is also not yours. It is primarily his (or hers, I realise I am being mildly sexist by using only male pronouns. Forgive me) and therefore, he is the one who is needing the most immediate help and support. The same as with any other addiction (drugs, alcohol, gambling what have you), berating the individual who is struggling, or handing them ultimatums as an initial response will only close any remaining communication that was left. If a spouse is abusing the other or engaging in dangerous behaviour, then an immediate walk away may be in order, but rarely is that a necessary first move. 

With the expansion of social media and the acceptance of sharing your entire life with everyone you have ever remotely known, people seem less concerned about the necessity for being discreet in marriage. There are things that deserve to be private, and the struggles and vices of your spouse are number one on the list of things that you do not need to be disclosing online. As soon as you invite others into your relationships, you face the danger of further biasing yourself against your spouse. Your own viewpoint is vindicated while people who are sympathetic to you, yet foreign to them attack and dehumanise the person who you have vowed to love, cherish, and respect. 

I also see girls asking other girls if they would like to discuss their trauma further, which is something that just leaves hypothetical chunks of my own brain matter on the wall. Isn't your spouse the one who is in need here? Can you not go attend to him? Work with him to step beyond this awful addiction? I understand asking "how can I help him?" but rarely is that what I see being asked. 

In discussing this with my best friend Allison she said, 

"Ask yourself 'am I asking for genuine help? Do I want to hear honesty? Do I really want to put some work in to making this better? Do I just not know how to do that on my own?' Because in all reality most of us know what could solve the majority of these issues, we're all adults who interact with people. It's good to genuinely need help with solving a specific problem, for people to provide alternative views, but that's so rarely what it is." 

This isn't to say that abuse isn't real. If you feel you are being consistently belittled, controlled, or abused in your relationship, seek help. Reach out and approach friends and professionals to assure you are safe. Reaching out to simply complain about your spouse or to get support for your side of the argument, however, will not end well for your marital happiness. 

I feel bad that I haven't managed to be even remotely humorous in this post, but the rage is embarrassingly real! Please do not interpret my irritation as me being someone who feels pornography is not harmful, or even that it has its place. I don't feel that way at all. What I do feel is the need for people to be aware of how little their relationships should revolve around themselves, and how much it should revolve around their relationship and their spouse. Putting yourself first leads to being selfish and easily offended, while putting your spouse and your marriage first helps you see how problems are never really simply polarised into "his" or "mine," but are almost always "ours." 

And with that, let's discuss ways to combat an addiction. Having struggled with my own addiction and going through the therapy for it, these are some things I have learned: 

1) Identify the problem, and the times and places it emerges. When are you most tempted to engage/to use/to lapse into the addiction?

2) Find ways to avoid those times and those things.

3) Establish an alternative coping mechanism to replace the original behaviour. If you need to keep your fingers busy, pick up knitting, Lego construction, a musical instrument, painting, anything that you think you will genuinely enjoy and will distract you from the original urge. That first behaviour has been established because it is pleasurable, replacing it with something dull and tedious will not do the trick.

4) Accept that you probably won't successfully stop forever the first time. You will probably slip up, but if you allow one slip up to destroy your resolve to continue improving, you will never come out on top. Keep moving forward.

5) Find someone who will check in with you and hold you responsible for your lapses while still loving you when you do lapse. For me, I am addicted to self harm. Even when I am happy, and even though I am currently clean, I still get urges. Peter has been aware of this addiction since we first became friends. He knows it, he accepts me despite of it, but he hates it. Knowing this leaves me with three options when I am faced with a temptation: I can cut and hide it from my husband, meaning I have let lying into our marriage, cut and have him disappointed and sad, or resist and have him shower me with love and affection when I tell him I overcame my moment of weakness.

6) Seek professional help. When in doubt, find a therapist you can trust and rely on. They are trained, they are licensed, and they can give support to both you and your spouse no matter the issue. 

Be excellent, folks. You and your marriages deserve it. 

One score and three years ago.

My very first class of university was Acting I. It was a Wednesday, and class was brief as the teacher only went over our syllabus before dismissing us. I sat on the front row and attempted, but failed, to engage a conversation with anyone nearby. Acting was an awesome class for a Freshman in desperate need for friends *cough* me *cough*. While I didn't hang out with anyone from the class, I still felt like I belonged when I was there.

One day we played a storytelling game. A person would volunteer to tell a story while the class sat in a circle on the stage. Each time a new character or setting appeared in the story, students had to rush in to the circle to try and fill the roles. One story began, "once there was a beautiful fairy princess." Six or so girls surged forward, but were all beat out by a beaming boy with a head full of curls, who skipped around the circle fluttering his arms emphatically. 

"Wow." I thought to myself, while laughing hysterically, "that is one incredibly secure kid." 

Of course, that kid was Peter. 

Peter sat on the other side of the theatre from me each class period, but from my vantage point he always looked like someone who I wished I could be friends with. While we had never spoken, I was pretty sure we would get along and I wanted desperately to break the ice. One day before class he walked past me wearing a shirt I recognized from The Big Bang Theory, but didn't know what it represented. "Perfect!" I thought to myself, developing a cunning ruse, "I can ask him what the symbol means and also bond with him over good TV *maniac laugh*" 

"Hey!" I said, catching his attention. "That's Sheldon Cooper's shirt from the Big Bang Theory, what does it stand for?" 

To my surprise, I was met with a distainful look from this perpetually grinning boy, "uhhhh," he said, every word dripping with dislike, "this is the Green Lantern." 

"Oh," was my subdued response, but before I could try anything else, he had continued on past me. 

Thus ended my attempts to engage with Peter Gregory. We would run into each other on campus or the beach, and even spent time together in groups. Somewhere along the way Peter decided that he was passionately and madly in love with me and I fell in love with him too, so it all worked out. 

Tomorrow it's that silly little boy's 23rd birthday, so here, for you, are 10 things I love about Peter. 

(In no particular order) 

1. Peter pretends he knows what I'm talking about even when he doesn't. 

I don't do this as much as I used to, but as a Freshman I loved picking pretend fights. Peter knew this, and he engaged me in them. I would squint a certain way, or push him, and he would turn back, arms open and yell "WHAT?!" Or "DONT EVEN BRING THAT UP RIGHT NOW," or some other variation. Other times we would pretend to be able to read each others minds, even when we didn't know what the other person was even slightly alluding to. It made me feel like part of an exclusive club, and I adore that Peter would do that for me. 

2. He sleeps like a dancer. It's the cutest thing I've ever seen a human do while unconcious. 

3. He is passionate. Did you know that Peter taught a Lego class when he was a teenager? He legitimately got paid to teach kids how to do his hobby. What the heck. 

4. He raps and beatboxes in both English and Japanese. He has also told me, and I quote, "you don't understand, when I was a teenager I was the epitome of gangsterdom." 

5. He is an excellent cook. Without him I would starve. Without him I do starve, actually... 

6. He serves me. A couple weeks ago I came home from work with an agonizing migraine. Peter put me to bed, and then got me ready all while I lay there. He brushed my hair, dressed me, washed my face, and brought me my tooth brush and a bowl to spit into. That isn't a surprising thing, though. Peter is always looking for a way to care for me, and for anyone who he loves. 

7. His eyelashes are incredibly long and dark. It's revolting. 

8. We are equally yoked in how clean/messy we are. This is actually super important. Watch out for this when you're dating. It will save your marriage. 

9. He always smells fantastic. 

10. When he was a teenager he made a suit out of duct tape. 

There are a billion and one reasons why I adore my Peter. I hope if you meet him, you love him too. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEETHEART!