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I’m going to hug him so hard he’s going to hate me.

Like every other sucker with an internet connection and a mild compulsion to maintain a self-centered blog, here’s 2009 in review:

In 2009 I wanted to learn to play a competent game of Chess. I’ve probably played Andy in at least sixty games of chess and won two. Chess-related goal: Check.

In 2009 I vowed to take cooler showers. The only thing that curbed my need to look like a lobster post-shower was getting pregnant. Foetuses don’t do well when their incubators are over-heated. Had I not been pregnant during 2009, I would have failed miserably at this but as it is, I did alright. I spent at least a third of 2009 taking tepid showers. Boo hiss.

In 2009, I wanted to save money and get into graduate school. Had I just writted the goal out in exactly the same way I just recited it then (and not as two separate ones), I would have realised how stupid it was to think I could keep money in the bank and still attend graduate school. We have no money, but we both made the cut to grad school. Semi-check.

In 2009, I wanted to learn enough French to ‘get by’. Unless ‘get by’ means ‘repeat what Andy just said, only with a poor accent, and make fun of the French Harry Potter‘ I have failed here too.

There were a collection of goals I made (to improve the quality of scripture study, to learn more about x,y,z, to get Ye Olde Violin out for reasons other than teaching tone-deaf kids) that I started achieving, but they started feeling like lifetime pursuits rather than categorical goals.

2009 was good. Andy and I made a zillion pizzas and had sleepovers almost every weekend. We went camping and hung out on the porch. We played some music in the back room. I had a job with Nu Skin that I never came home stressed about, Andy did well in uni and in his research lab. We bought a new tent and I almost completed Super Mario Galaxy. I tried to make my cat wear a leash because I was scared for Moses’ life, after we found a dead cat in the front garden. We got new tyres for our bikes. I failed at ‘getting healthy’. We walked to 7-11 for hot chocolates in the Winter and Slurpees in the Summer. I made homemade pasta and some new friends. I watched The Dark Knight at least four times. Andy recorded an EP. We bust into the Marriott for some swim-sessions. I read some books. I did an OK job of teaching RS at church and Andy completed dental school applications. I sewed a couple skirts and dresses. I ruined a couple yards of decent material with my sewing efforts. We chased a manatee for a mile down a Floridian beach. We moved to England. We ate courgette soup and tuna-pasta at a host’s home in France without barfing. We found out I was pregnant. I survived three months of living entirely alone in London without losing my marbles or getting stabbed. I threw up in numerous public places. I think that’s a good place to leave my review of 2009.

I got a leopard-print snuggie and an Andy for Christmas. I am in need of nothing more.

Andy got an email from his mum last night about Moses. Mosey is staying with Andy’s parents right now because we couldn’t afford to fly him here. Apparently he’s been mooning around Pennsylvania ever since Andy left. He came out of seclusion to watch a game of Scrabble, but apparently he’s wallowing in abandonment right now. Hearing that made me feel really bad. I miss Moses a lot.

I realised after posting this post that I always seem to be missing something – Andy, Moses, my mind. I’m usually pretty fulfilled, but I feel kind of crazy with half my belongings and my pet in PA, junk in a flat in London, stuff in Preston, and I only just got Andy back.

Andy comes home in 21 hours!

And good. Because one minute longer and I might have taken a spill over the cliffs of insanity.

☃ On the 95th day sans Andy, my true love gave to me:

Haha, matching facial expressions! Andy’s probably sick of me posting photos he emails me for my own personal entertainment, so I’ll go easy on them from now on. I just miss him and Moses a lot.

When I was a kid, I’d sometimes get the urge to munch the glass I was drinking from. Just chomp down really hard. I never did. Rachel did. The glass unsurprisingly shattered, but that’s neither here nor there.

I think Moses gets these urges. He can be sitting calmly on your lap one second, then suddenly he’s got a death grip on whatever bit of skin is exposed before him. He’ll just sit there happily, glued to your arm with his little teeth. I can’t tell if this is disturbing or funny. It’s funny to me, but that’s because I haven’t been attacked in a while.

I feel obliged to blog about what I’m grateful for, even though no one is giving me a Turkey Dinner as incentive.

I tend to play thing close to the chest when it comes down to things I’m really grateful for (mainly because the list gets personal, fast) but because I often post extensively about stuff that ticks me off, I should probably give Thanksgiving a shot and even up the negativity on this blog.

There are lots of things I’m grateful for, like hot water, books, Moses and his wool-fetish, Roombas, sweets, holidays, Black Bic Biro’s with fine-point nibs, but the most important things I’m grateful for in life are:

• The restored gospel. I dunno who reads this blog, so if that sounds bizarre to anyone here’s a link that might explain things a bit. People like to argue that my belief in that is simply a psychological mechanism for dealing with life’s quirks or that a belief in God is just mankind’s method of feeling less insignificant. I know otherwise, and this knowledge is one of few things I am sure of.
• Andy. I think my life could be split into two segments thus far: life before Andy, and life after meeting Andy. I’ve never been as happy or fulfilled as I am with Andy. He’s the only part of my life that my expectations haven’t had to compromise on.
• Foetus Martin. I don’t really know what to expect about having a baby, but I know that I’m more than willing to go through another five months of throwing-up for this sprocket.
• Health. Neither Andy or I have any chronic illnesses or health concerns. I never forget to be grateful for that.
• University. Hopefully this master’s will put me in a slightly better position for applying for a PhD after a few years as a stay at home mum, haha.
• Political freedoms. I can crack as many Gordon Brown jokes as I want, and no ones going to show up at my house with a black bag and handcuffs.

Happy Fangsgiving. Eat your turkey or tofurkey or whatever you are having, with extra gusto on my behalf. Not only did I not get turkey for dinner, OR Elizabeth Bevington’s gravy, but the lightbulb in the bathroom exploded so I couldn’t read in the bath. Insult to injury, I say.

Moses looks a bit taxidermyesque in the first photo, but then he is squished face and loving Andy in the second.

Four Weeks until Andy gets here!

I let the band name annoy me because my cat is called Moses and was named such before Band Moses was even a twinkle in Provo’s eye.
I am convinced that Cat Moses, armed with a Big Band number and bow-tie, would whip Band Moses in a battle of the bands competition. Partially because Cat Moses existed before Band Moses. It follows therefore, that Prophet Moses should technically be a bestselling international artist with a picture in the Hall of Fame. I will stop there.

7.43 Weeks/3.71 fortnights/52 days until this:

Well, not quite. I won’t get to see Moses (unless anyone wants to donate £600 to the ‘Help Moses Get through UK Customs’ foundation?) but I will get to be back with Andy. He booked tickets to be here on December 8th and it can’t come soon enough. I’m almost halfway through the period of Andylessness, so I suppose I know I’m at least physically capable of making it to December in one piece. It’s depressing to think that by then it will have been almost an entire semester since we saw each other last. I’m just taking things day by day at the moment trying to keep my chin up. Andy got his tumblr back up and running when he ran out of things to do in Franklin. It keeps me entertained in his absence. The internet and it’s bounteous abundance of blogs, news, and daft websites helps to keep me in good spirits. Nothing like reading about a 6 year old hiding in his attic and not actually swinging wildly over planet earth in a mylar balloon to brighten your day.

I feel a bit less sick now than I did a few weeks ago, so I’m trying to amass a list of junk to look forward to and get involved with. So far my list reads: “BONFIRE NIGHT”. I haven’t had a 5th of November in England since 2003 so I’m going to make the most of this one and drag it out by attending a local bonfire on the 5th, one at Victoria Park on the Saturday after, and then the Lord Mayor’s Show the weekend after that. I just really like gunpowder, treason and plot. And Treacle Toffee.