Tag: Marriage

The Perks of Being an Inn-Dweller

Posted on by Sierra

Several days ago, Jeremy and I came home to our basement of an inn apartment, and our bathroom sink (which is the entry way to our home, very welcoming) was filled to the very top with strange black sediment. On the top of the sediment sat a green, perfectly healthy little leaf. It was picturesque almost.  But also slightly unnerving. Our landlord sent over the repairman to investigate, where from our pipe he proceeded to remove two very healthy twigs. There was no other sign of foliage, but we are curious to see if a zinnia bush blossoms out of our shower head sometime soon.
Other perks include: the fact that we have a set of highly versatile neighbors. Most of the time the inn-dwellers are very normal. They park their cars and grin embarrassedly when you make eye contact and they see that they are going to the nice part of the mansion while we descend to the bellows. But one time, we got some domestic disputers on the floor above. It began with stamping feet that shook our roof, and a muffled argument, and then the detectable outlandish screeches of “I HATE YOU! I. HATE. YOU.”
Another time, I had a wreath of Christmas Jingle bells that hadn’t quite made it from my car to the house in the move. This was while I was still living by myself and waiting for Jeremy to move in with me. One night, I heard a disembodied tinkle beside my bedroom window. Convinced that someone had broken into my car and taken my bells out for a midnight jingling, I called Jeremy in distress. He came to my aid, did some nighttime poaching, only to discover that the jingler was, in fact, a sweet little kitty who just wanted to keep my window company.
All of this being said, I love our little basement apartment. I feel like every day, despite the new quirks, and despite the fact that there are no doors, and that the bathroom is in the entryway and that the tiles are loose, I could live in this place forever, or at least another two years. Besides, if China takes over the world, Jeremy and I have a hiding place behind a shelf of books that you’d never expect. 

Things I’m Learning about my Husband in Bed

Posted on by Sierra

Things I’m Learning about My Husband in Bed
Unless he has the exact right pillow under the exact right place under his neck, he will snore. Sometimes his snores are not just snores—sometimes they are long, drawn-out, cavernous bellows. Sometimes they are little sizzle snores that start low and deep at the grumble pack in his throat, and then travel up to his nose where they peter into a dull wheeze.
Also he talks in his sleep. Last night he woke me up so we could have this conversation:
Jeremy:  Harang the Mitsu Plank.
Me: (Consulting the clock. 5:30 AM) Huh?
Jeremy: (With a little more desperation) Harang the Mitsu Plank!
Me: (Desperately searching for meaning in this through a cloud of sleep haze) What, Jeremy?
Jeremy: (Definitely frustrated now) Harang the Mitsu Plank! Psshh. Gorglefunk (At this point, Jeremy rolled over defiantly, and promptly began snoring again).
But sleeping Jeremy was on finest form on our honeymoon, when I woke up to Jeremy humming a delightful little tune. Assuming he was awake, I tapped on his shoulder and his body seized, as if he was being pulled from a coma. He allowed his eyes to focus, probably as surprised to wake up to a wife as I still am to be waking up to a husband.
Me: That was a pretty song love—Whatchoo singin?
Jeremy: Was I singing?
Me: Yes, and it sounded like the theme song from CatDog.
Jeremy: I don’t know the theme song from CatDog. But I do know the theme song to Angry Beavers. I can play it on the trumpet (he hums it, to prove it).
We spent 3:00 AM in Victoria singing and humming all the old Nickelodeon theme songs from our youth, and then cuddling until sleep overtook us. I am finding bedtime to be one of the greatest learning experiences of all…. Now I know the Angry Beavers theme song. You don’t? Oh, Gorglefunk.

Our Story

Posted on by Sierra
When Jeremy Penrod and I first met, I looked like this:
It was in that pivotal moment in Stage Makeup Class, winter 2009, that he probably knew that I was the one for him. While the other girls in the class hauled in male models to apply a beard (thus the reason for Jeremy’s visit in class that day), I decided to skip the hassle of tracking down a boy that would come in early to get spirit gum applied to his face, and apply spirit gum and a beard to my own face instead. My thought process was like this: “Who can resist a lady in whiskers, right?”
Right. Apparently Jeremy Penrod was smitten.
It took several months (and several significant others) in between for Jeremy and I to finally be on the same page. When one significant other and I severed ties, Jeremy pounced. Knowing that I was an avid blogger, he eagerly accepted my request to re-vamp my blog (this very blog, in fact). Rather than taking me on elaborate dates and asking me what color my toothbrush was, Jeremy synthesized my personality and applied it to this page, seeing as he is an extremely talented web designer. We got to know each other in those waning hours of the evening, and Jeremy Penrod began to heal my troubled soul and tame my wild heart. He made me feel special again. He let me know that it was ok to be human. He validated my emotions and fostered my ability to feel. What a special guy he is. How lucky I feel.
On Friday, May 6th, Jeremy picked me up at my door looking extra handsome. As we walked to his car, I plucked one of the dandelions that have infested Provo from the ground and made a wish that I would get proposed to that night.
We set off for Happy Sumo to pick up the sushi (my favorite) that Jeremy had pre-ordered, and headed up Provo Canyon, where we often retreat when we want to get away from the world. We pulled up to our park and headed deep into the dark. We stumbled upon a small picnic set up that was barely visible in the darkness.
You know those boys that shame the guitar, those boys that serenade you with the ONLY SONG THEY KNOW, which is probably “Hey There Delilah,” and they want you to swoon and think that they are oh-so-drippy-with-awesomeness? Jeremy is not one of these boys. First of all, he is actually good. And second, Jeremy often refuses to serenade me, even after I beg and beg, and it is only on exceptionally lucky occasions that Jeremy will whip out his guitar and sing me a song.
This night was an exceptionally lucky occasion. He played “our song,” shaking with nerves, then unearthed the ring box and asked me the question girls dream about for a lifetime. But I had to say yes before I could see the ring.
So I did.
And then after sweet kisses and happy rejoicing, we raced, hand in hand, up a hill and to a pavilion where we could see my ring in all its splendor. We clambered on top of a picnic table and held each other close.
And so, I’m engaged to Jeremy Penrod. And I mean this without an ounce of sarcasm and with all sincerity and elation—Lucky, lucky me!
This is Jeremy expressing his excitement about the engagement.
These are the people that helped Jeremy execute the perfect proposal.
The ring that Jeremy wouldn’t let me see ’till after I said yes.