“I’ve got your faaaavorite!” Evan’s voice rang through every inch of my apartment. After probably walking into all three rooms, I heard his footsteps coming closer to the kitchen archway. “You better not be making dinner, because I didn’t buy this pizza for… nothing…” his voice trailed off upon seeing me on the floor. “Oh my gosh, what’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. He spoke again, with more urgency in his voice. “Mik!?”
I giggled softly at his nickname for me, remembering the first time he said it. The little word just rolled off his tongue like he’d been calling my by it our entire lives.
“Hey Mik? Pizza or Chinese?”
I stared at him for a few seconds before answering. “Did you just call me ‘Mik’?”
“Absolutely,” he responded, looking at me like I was crazy. “Now, pizza or Chinese?”
“Uhhhh Chinese. But really? Mik?”
“You didn’t really expect me to call you ‘Mikayla’ forever, did you?”
“Well no, but I already have a nickname, in case you forgot.”
“I know, but everyone else calls you ‘Kayla.’ I needed a nickname that’s just mine,” he said simply, before turning his attention back to the take-out menu.
I couldn’t stop the gigantic grin that was currently making its way across my face. I like to think that’s when I knew that Evan wouldn’t be leaving my life anytime soon.
“Mikayla, are you okay?” he asked, snapping me out of my flashback.
“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “Um, I… uh…”
“Mik, words,” he joked with a sparkle in his eye. God, I loved those eyes. I sighed, hesitant to respond.
“I’m…” Now or never. “I’m pregnant.” He was still for a moment before wrapping me in his arms and spinning around in my tiny kitchen.
“Oh my gosh, Mik! This is great!” I couldn’t help but smile at his response. Leave it to Evan to turn my bad situation around. Of course, he didn’t have any reason to believe that there was a bad situation in the first place. We stopped spinning and he set me down, grabbing my hands like he never wanted to let go. “Mik, you had me so terrified for a second. I thought something awful had happened. Gosh, why’d you scare me like that!?” A goofy grin is still plastered on his face. I don’t think it’ll ever go away. I can’t tell him. I’m not even sure the baby isn’t his! Why get him freaked out over something that might not even be true?
“Come on, Evan. My mom is going to FREAK.”
He laughed. “Is that it?”
No. No, Evan. A few weeks ago Brock came back. You remember Brock, right? Well, I slept with him. And a couple days later you and I had sex. So it’s a possibility that the baby belongs to my old tool of a boyfriend. Sorry!
“Yes…” He laughed again.
“We’re going to have a baby, and all you can think about is your mother?”
“Come on, Evan! You know my mother! She’s going to kill me!”
“Mik, she’s always going off about how she wants her favorite daughter to hurry up and get married so that she can have more grandchildren…”
“Yeah, from her married daughter! You know, after getting married first! We’re not married!”
“But we will be,” he reminded me, running his thumb across the diamond on my left hand.
“Yeah, but…” I started.
“We’re going to have a baby, Mikayla. A baby!” he interrupted. I could tell he was getting slightly annoyed. We were having a kid, and while he wanted to celebrate, I was just complaining about my mother.
“You’re right, Evan. We’re having a kid! Come on, let’s party!” His eyebrows clenched together even tighter. What did I say now?
“Dang it, I wish I would have known. I would have come over and whisked you away to the fanciest restaurant in the city, but instead I just brought you stupid pizza,” he explained, gesturing to my counter.
“Pizza?” I asked, my ears perking up. I heard him chuckle as I dashed over to look. Ooh, Papa Murphy’s. My favorite.
“One small chicken Alfredo for you, and a meat lover’s for me.”
“Evan, I’m not going to eat an entire pizza by myself.”
“Sure you will,” he replied, with that adorable twinkle reclaiming its place in his eye. “You’re eating for two now.”
I rolled my eyes and turned on the oven.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
First (real) post below!
Alright kiddos. So I think I've decided on a posting schedule. I'm going to try to update every other day. Now, I'm just starting, and I don't know if this schedule will work out for me in the long run, but it looks good for now. So, since this is an every-other-day thing, posting won't be on the same day each week, if that makes sense. Some weeks I'll post on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, while the next week would be Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. And like I said before, I don't know if I'll stick with this until I figure out that it totally works. So bear with me :)
I've also totally updated the look for my blog, so tell me what you think! I thought it would be fun to add a "quote of the week" section, and I'll try to update that every Monday or Sunday (depending on the posting week), but I'll probably forget. Many times. So it could end up being a "quote of the year" section :D I've also added a list of "blog rules" that I kind of expect everyone to follow. I'll try to do my part by posting on time, so you should do your part by following my rules. Then we'll be good! Don't worry, they're just about being nice and stuff. I don't expect you to do anything extreme.
So anyway, read my first post below and give me your thoughts!
I've also totally updated the look for my blog, so tell me what you think! I thought it would be fun to add a "quote of the week" section, and I'll try to update that every Monday or Sunday (depending on the posting week), but I'll probably forget. Many times. So it could end up being a "quote of the year" section :D I've also added a list of "blog rules" that I kind of expect everyone to follow. I'll try to do my part by posting on time, so you should do your part by following my rules. Then we'll be good! Don't worry, they're just about being nice and stuff. I don't expect you to do anything extreme.
So anyway, read my first post below and give me your thoughts!
What I've Done
My microwave timer rang out, interrupting the deathly silence in my kitchen. I gathered my courage and took a huge breath before looking down at the little stick in my lap. A pink plus sign stared back up at me.
“Damnit.”
I hardly ever swore, but the current situation called for it. I sat on my kitchen floor for over an hour, trying to let reality sink in. I mean, I should be happy, right? Evan and I want a child. My entire life, I’ve wanted nothing more than to settle down with the perfect man and have 2.5 beautiful children. But at this moment, all I can think about is how disappointed my Mormon mother would be. My entire family is Mormon, which meant that I was completely sheltered throughout my life. In high school, the average teenager would sneak beer or cigarettes into their bedrooms. I, however, snuck in a 2 liter of Pepsi and face cards to play poker with my brother. Never would I think of bringing alcohol into my home. The caffeine was more than enough to make my mom ready to kill me. She made me change dresses on the day of my graduation party because it failed to fall below my knees. What the hell would she think of me now, becoming pregnant before I was even married? Worse than that, becoming pregnant without knowing who the father was?
Oh my God, I don’t know who the father of my child is. I’m honestly not a slut, or someone who goes around sleeping with anything that walks on two legs. In fact, I’ve only been with two men in my entire life, but they sort of meshed together. Now instead of simply freaking out about being pregnant without a husband, I was in hysterics because I don’t even know who to call with the news. At that moment, I began to pray. I’ve never been terribly religious, despite the church-going people who make up my entire family. My brother and I just fell out of our old routine when we left high school. But I still begged God for answers when I was in trouble. And this situation? Screamed trouble.
“Dear God, please let this baby be Evan’s. Please let it be Evan’s. Please, oh please God, let this be Evan’s kid. Amen.”
I repeated it over and over again, as though somehow my chant would become true if I whispered it enough. However, knowing my luck, now matter how many times I say it, or how loud I scream it, or how many people I tell it to, this kid won’t be Evan’s. If it is Evan’s, my life would be too easy. Although, nothing really is easy about having a child out of wedlock, but still. Nothing in my life turned out the way I wanted it. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that the only thing legitimately good in my life is Evan. And if this baby doesn’t turn out to be his, it’s all over. My life won’t have a single good thing in it.
“Damnit.”
Like I said before, I try to refrain from swearing, but sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes I need to let the bad words drip from my mouth to remind myself that I’ve done something incredibly stupid. Just before I let another batch of tears roll down my face, I heard a lock twist, my front door open, and my fiancé’s sweet voice call my name.
“Damnit.”
“Damnit.”
I hardly ever swore, but the current situation called for it. I sat on my kitchen floor for over an hour, trying to let reality sink in. I mean, I should be happy, right? Evan and I want a child. My entire life, I’ve wanted nothing more than to settle down with the perfect man and have 2.5 beautiful children. But at this moment, all I can think about is how disappointed my Mormon mother would be. My entire family is Mormon, which meant that I was completely sheltered throughout my life. In high school, the average teenager would sneak beer or cigarettes into their bedrooms. I, however, snuck in a 2 liter of Pepsi and face cards to play poker with my brother. Never would I think of bringing alcohol into my home. The caffeine was more than enough to make my mom ready to kill me. She made me change dresses on the day of my graduation party because it failed to fall below my knees. What the hell would she think of me now, becoming pregnant before I was even married? Worse than that, becoming pregnant without knowing who the father was?
Oh my God, I don’t know who the father of my child is. I’m honestly not a slut, or someone who goes around sleeping with anything that walks on two legs. In fact, I’ve only been with two men in my entire life, but they sort of meshed together. Now instead of simply freaking out about being pregnant without a husband, I was in hysterics because I don’t even know who to call with the news. At that moment, I began to pray. I’ve never been terribly religious, despite the church-going people who make up my entire family. My brother and I just fell out of our old routine when we left high school. But I still begged God for answers when I was in trouble. And this situation? Screamed trouble.
“Dear God, please let this baby be Evan’s. Please let it be Evan’s. Please, oh please God, let this be Evan’s kid. Amen.”
I repeated it over and over again, as though somehow my chant would become true if I whispered it enough. However, knowing my luck, now matter how many times I say it, or how loud I scream it, or how many people I tell it to, this kid won’t be Evan’s. If it is Evan’s, my life would be too easy. Although, nothing really is easy about having a child out of wedlock, but still. Nothing in my life turned out the way I wanted it. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that the only thing legitimately good in my life is Evan. And if this baby doesn’t turn out to be his, it’s all over. My life won’t have a single good thing in it.
“Damnit.”
Like I said before, I try to refrain from swearing, but sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes I need to let the bad words drip from my mouth to remind myself that I’ve done something incredibly stupid. Just before I let another batch of tears roll down my face, I heard a lock twist, my front door open, and my fiancé’s sweet voice call my name.
“Damnit.”
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Why hello there!
Hey there fellow bloggers! Or readers, whichever. Anyway, my name's Hanna. I figured that before I just dive in, I should give you guys a little idea about what this blog is/who I am. Of course, I'm not going to go into great detail about the latter, because that would be weird. But, I've been reading a lot of blogs lately, and I decided that I was sick of not knowing how they were going to turn out. Or having them turn out in a way that I didn't like. So, I just decided that I should stop complaining and just write my own! Hope you enjoy! :D
Alright, so the main character of my story is Mikayla Russell. She's in her early 20s, just graduated college, and works as a journalist for a small magazine. I haven't decided if I'm going to make up a magazine or take the title from one I read, so there's not really a title for it yet. Her job won't be a main part of the first few posts, so I've got a little time to figure out what I want to do. She's part of a Mormon family, has one older brother, Merrick, three younger brothers, Max, Malcolm, and Mylan, and one little sister, Mary. You'll learn about them more when you read the story. Don't even ask why all of their names start with "M." I don't know what I was thinking when I made them up. I guess I was planning on Mikayla only having two siblings, and I wanted her brother to be named Max (after my brother), and then I decided that I couldn't have two "M" names and just have her sister be left out. And then I wanted her to have more brothers, and the Ms just continued. I don't know. Like I said, don't ask (:
Now, about the Mormon thing. I was having my friend read over what I've written so far, and she said that sometimes I sound a little stereotypical, which some people may find offensive. I'm really not trying to offend anyone out there with what I write. So, if any Mormons are going to read this, sorry if this seems rude. My mom's side of the family is actually Mormon, and I've got nothing but love for them :D I'm really just writing about what I know about my cousins' lifestyle. So if I'm wrong about anything, I'm sorry. I don't have the facts, so I'm just writing from what I know about their lives. If anyone wants to change what I'm saying, then bring it on ;)
I guess that Mikayla is based a little on me, but I haven't really done anything that she's done in her life. So maybe her reactions to the things she's doing is based on how I think I'd act in that situation. Now, Mikayla's closest (emotionally and in age) with her brother Max, who is totally based on my actual brother. They're practically identical. I guess I based Mikayla's friend Hayden off of my real-life friend Adam. And when I was naming my characters, I just looked around my room for words and posters of people and stuff, so if some of them sound weird or familiar, that's why.
I suppose that I've told you everything I can (actually, everything I want to. there's more I can tell you, but I won't :D), so you'll just have to read to find out more! My very first post will be up in the next couple of days. I really need to sit down and figure out a posting schedule that I can stick to. But stay tuned!
Alright, so the main character of my story is Mikayla Russell. She's in her early 20s, just graduated college, and works as a journalist for a small magazine. I haven't decided if I'm going to make up a magazine or take the title from one I read, so there's not really a title for it yet. Her job won't be a main part of the first few posts, so I've got a little time to figure out what I want to do. She's part of a Mormon family, has one older brother, Merrick, three younger brothers, Max, Malcolm, and Mylan, and one little sister, Mary. You'll learn about them more when you read the story. Don't even ask why all of their names start with "M." I don't know what I was thinking when I made them up. I guess I was planning on Mikayla only having two siblings, and I wanted her brother to be named Max (after my brother), and then I decided that I couldn't have two "M" names and just have her sister be left out. And then I wanted her to have more brothers, and the Ms just continued. I don't know. Like I said, don't ask (:
Now, about the Mormon thing. I was having my friend read over what I've written so far, and she said that sometimes I sound a little stereotypical, which some people may find offensive. I'm really not trying to offend anyone out there with what I write. So, if any Mormons are going to read this, sorry if this seems rude. My mom's side of the family is actually Mormon, and I've got nothing but love for them :D I'm really just writing about what I know about my cousins' lifestyle. So if I'm wrong about anything, I'm sorry. I don't have the facts, so I'm just writing from what I know about their lives. If anyone wants to change what I'm saying, then bring it on ;)
I guess that Mikayla is based a little on me, but I haven't really done anything that she's done in her life. So maybe her reactions to the things she's doing is based on how I think I'd act in that situation. Now, Mikayla's closest (emotionally and in age) with her brother Max, who is totally based on my actual brother. They're practically identical. I guess I based Mikayla's friend Hayden off of my real-life friend Adam. And when I was naming my characters, I just looked around my room for words and posters of people and stuff, so if some of them sound weird or familiar, that's why.
I suppose that I've told you everything I can (actually, everything I want to. there's more I can tell you, but I won't :D), so you'll just have to read to find out more! My very first post will be up in the next couple of days. I really need to sit down and figure out a posting schedule that I can stick to. But stay tuned!
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