It’s always best to start at the beginning, or at least easier. Sometimes, however, you don’t have that choice. I never thought about doing a blog. I know they exist and many people love them but I just never thought about doing one myself. Until now.
This is a blog of my life. While I could start out with, I was born and raised in Wichita, Kansas and bring you forward from there I am not going to do that. Don’t get me wrong I’ve had an unbelievable life that would make for a fascinating read. Just to give a few examples, I once put three guys in the hospital when I was 20 (trust me they deserved it). I managed to drill through my thumb and break the greater tubercle in my right shoulder in one evening (I’m no longer allowed in the garage without supervision). I accidentally set myself on fire lighting a charcoal grill and no, liquid lighter fluid was not involved. I endured 7 surgeries in 6 months in 2004, 6 of those were brain surgeries and was expected to die after contracting a MRSA staph infection in my brain after the 5th brain surgery. I have had graphic designs I produced on international television and the Goodyear blimp, but all of that actual doesn’t compare to what happened in 2013. In 2013, my life took the best unexpected turn yet, I got married.
Now, I’m sure you are thinking, why is getting married so interesting? People get married everyday. But my circumstance is a bit different from the norm. I am 46-years-old and have never been married (interesting but nothing really unique there). I met a man via an online dating service (still nothing special). He is Chilean (ok, a bit more interesting). He got a job offer from a company in Sønderborg, Denmark, asked me to marry him and move there with him (and there we have it).
So, after 46 years living in and around Wichita, KS as a single woman, I am now married to the most amazing man and starting the process of getting my visa to move to Denmark with my new husband. My husband is a private man so I will not be using real names in this blog but the facts will be the actual facts. For the purpose of this narrative I will call my husband, Tony (taken from Tony Stark as I have called my husband Iron Man as a nickname since I met him).
Last April Tony got his job offer on Tuesday the 2nd, he told me about the job offer on Wednesday and asked me to marry him. I obviously said yes. Friday we told my parents and Saturday he left the US for Denmark. From April to December we lived on Skype, in text, through the mail and the occasional phone call.
I spent the time without him keeping busy by planning every detail of the wedding. I spent months buying and making everything. I designed and produced the invitations, decorations, and the wedding cakes. The only things I didn’t personally make was the food and my dress. I was going to make those too but Mom talked me out of it and thank God she did! I would have lost my mind.
Our wedding was pretty close to everything I ever wanted for a wedding. There were a few hitches in our getting hitched, as there always is when planning events like this. First, it snowed the day before the wedding, the worst snow storm we had in our part of Kansas in several years. The heavy snow fall caused a few extra issues for the day but in the end provided a very pretty winter wedding setting. Second, I got hit in the head with my trunk lid when I was unloading my dress from the car before the wedding (thank God for bangs!). Third, we lost the grooms ring in the snow before the ceremony (which we still haven’t found yet due to the snow and ice) and those were just a few of the mishaps.
But despite all of the bumps, bruises, and losses, the day was amazing. We had family and friends with us to share the day and we went to bed that night as husband and wife. Two weeks later, I was saying goodbye to my husband as he left to board a plane to go back to Denmark. This bring us to where I am now, a new bride, living with my parents, working toward getting my reunification visa so I can move to Sønderborg, Denmark and live with my husband.
To say I’m an emotional mess doesn’t really give you the whole picture. You would have to know, I have never been a weepy girl. I’m the tomboy who rode motorcycles, played tackle football with the boys (and kicked their butts at it too), and never, ever cried! I hate crying. I would rather wet my pants in public than ever cry in front of anyone and yet I have cried more since I have met my husband (for mostly happy reasons) than I did probably the first 45 years of my life. The bastard has turned me into a girl! And I love him for it.
I’ve never felt I could be vulnerable like that with anyone but Tony makes me feel like anything I feel or think is okay. Which makes it all that much more difficult to be separated from him. So from the moment I left him at the airport I have been working toward getting my visa.
There is so much I need to do to make this happen. Step one is getting my name changed on everything. A huge pain in the backside. Especially considering I’m keeping my full name and adding both of his surnames.
Next installment: Fun with social security name change when your new name is too long to fit into the computer system.