Quidditch.

So today my mom asked me how the Snow Cup went, and I told her it was legitimately the best weekend of my life. Why? Okay, I'll tell you.


1. Finally getting to meet some of the greatest people I have EVER known in my entire life. Seriously, the morning of, running up to everyone and hugging them? BEST. THING. EVER. (Zach wins though, seriously. I said his name and we legitimately ran and jumped into each others' arms and stayed there for at least a full minute. I love him SO MUCH.)

2. Winning our first-ever Quidditch match. Seriously. I'm not sure I've ever been so thrilled in my entire life.

3. Crash course in goal reffing fifteen seconds before the match started.

4. Picking Kevin (SupaKev) up at the airport.

5. Talking about Quiddich ALL DAY LONG. And all night long.

6. Not gonna lie, meeting Alex Benepe was awesome.

7. Watching my team have the time of their lives. I was worried half of them would quit. Now I legitimately can't wait for Western Cup with them. And everyone else. WESTERN CUP.

8. Putting up a couple of really great hits on some UNC chasers. Man those felt good. (Nothing personal guys.)

9. Scoring my first-ever goal against Auxkas. I felt like such a beast.

10. (Sorry guys, mush time.) Watching my ridiculously sexy boyfriend play Quidditch. YUM.

11. Being so sore that moving was a long and arduous process for the next two days, and being completely happy about it.

12. Spending a good chunk of time and money on those legit brooms, and hearing people talk about how awesome they were.

14. Wearing my muddy jersey to school on Monday and getting the weirdest looks ever.

15. Reading the article about us in our school paper. We're so cool.

16. Having Zach tell me I'm actually good at Quidditch. And believing him.

17. Lillian.

18. TRADING CARDS.

19. Yelling myself completely hoarse being that obnoxiously passionate captain on the sidelines.

20. QUIDDITCH. QUIDDITCH. QUIDDITCH.

(This worked better on Facebook when I could tag everyone I love SO DEARLY.)

Anyway, to sum up the Snow Cup, we won our first game, and our last game, both against UNC (they went 0-5, poor guys). The Crimson Fliers won the whole thing, with good reason. They are incredible. If you want to watch some good Quidditch, watch the Fliers. They play a very beautiful Quidditch match. Watching Chris play Quidditch turns me on more than looking at pictures of him play baseball. GOSSSSSHHH he is so hot. 

But yeah. My team actually did incredibly well. I'm so proud of them/us, and so many people told me how impressed they were by us, both on and off the field. That is always so nice to hear, especially as a captain.

One more little gooey-ness before I head to bed. This weekend just showed me even more clearly why I love Chris SO MUCH. Yeah, yeah, he's good at Quidditch and he's extremely good looking and such, but he's also way smart, super dedicated, and so, so classy. He would ceaselessly give credit to his team, and most of his hard work (especially on the brooms) went completely unnoticed and he didn't even care. I would say that I'm sorry ladies, because I am a little sorry that you are all missing out, but seriously I'm not all that sorry, he is so wonderful and I feel so lucky. I am still a little mystified as to why on earth he's dating me... But I guess I DO look pretty hot in my Quidditch uniform... ;)

And one last thing... Chris texted me "Wanngoballwime?" 25 minutes before the dance started... OBVIOUSLY I said yes. Silly, silly, adorable boy. (He looked so freaking handsome. It was not fair.)

Tangible.

Um, so, Chris decided to delete his blog. It's okay. It has served its primary purpose. One thing I will say, that is probably why I like it so much, is that the blog is tangible. When I'm all alone and Chris is at work and I miss him like crazy, I can pull up a favorite blog post, read it, and feel all warm and fuzzy inside again. Words are super effective like that for me.

Anyway. Today at work was boring, as usual. I spent probably an hour on this poor unloved snowboard (seriously, its edges were essentially pure rust) and it still didn't look as good as it deserves, but it's about as good as it's gonna get.

I love IQA West. Most 'specially SupaKev.

Words.

Okay guys, this is pretty much a follow-up post. But. Whatever.

I know I need to chill. I do realize this. Thankfully, I have SupaKev to put things back into perspective. And, ya know, Tripp. (Tripp, today was one of those times when I wished that we communicated over more than just the occasional blog posts. You seem to understand Chris better than I do.)

Anyway, Five Love Languages.

http://www.amazon.com/Love-Languages-Secret-That-Lasts/dp/0802473156/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1326868652&sr=1-1

Brief overview, there are five languages of love. Each person speaks one more 'fluently' than another, so to speak. (Oh punny.) We all speak them all. They are Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, and Gift Giving. We each 'speak' and 'receive' a specific language- usually they are the same, but sometimes they're not.

As Tripp pointed out, Chris is one of those Quality Time people. I am one of those Words of Affirmation people. Well, okay, I might actually be a Physical Touch person, but that particular love language has been spoken enough that I'm moving on to my 'secondary' language. Either way, words are huge for me. I frequently tell my friends and the people I care about that I love them, and I like to hear it. A lot. To be honest, one of the underlying causes of my self esteem issues is the fact that my parents are not 'words' people. My parents express their love for me by acts of service, and gift giving. To me they're telling me over and over in, say, Finnish, that they love me, but I don't speak Finnish all that well. I speak Gaelic (words of affirmation) really well though, and a lot of the times my parents 'spoke Gaelic' to me, it was degrading. Now, imagine how that makes me feel. In their minds they are telling me VERY LOUDLY how much they love me, and occasionally very quietly the things they don't love. But because I really only understand the language in which they're telling me they don't love me, that's all I'm getting. Yeah. Not good. (This is actually one of the reasons I think I'm primarily physical touch. My parents are the least touchy people in the universe. Or close to it. And I don't legitimately feel like they love me. I know they do. But I don't feel it.)

Anyway, to me, Chris is pretty much shouting at me in oh, Swahili, that he loves me. I speak Swahili, in fact that's probably how I express myself the most (particularly in this relationship- "I miss you like crazy, I'll be there in 45 minutes" at 10 pm much?) but it's not my native language, so it feels a little foreign to me. Remember, I speak Gaelic. Don't get me wrong, it's not like he doesn't tell me he loves me. (He does, a lot. I like it, a lot.) But when he speaks negatively... that's a lot more detrimental for me. For example, "Do whatever you want." To Chris, this means, "I'm trying to be a hands-off boyfriend and let you make your own decisions." But to me, the native Gaelic speaker, it essentially says, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

Can you understand how a bit of negativity can be extremely detrimental to me? And how guys, who generally don't speak Gaelic, tend to cut and run?

Me, the one who spends all of my time gushing about Chris all over my blog (in Gaelic), the one who fell in love with a boy after reading his blog (let's be honest, I really did), the one who writes letters (and, unfortunately, blog posts) when she's upset because that's how she expresses herself best... reads the blog, sees a few shall we say "Honorable Mentions (in Gaelic)" and then an entire paragraph about arguing... You might as well have slapped me in the face.

I know, I need to chill.

As SupaKev pointed out, for someone who doesn't speak Gaelic as his native language, Chris does a pretty good amount of 'gushing.' It's just hidden, because it's not in my dialect of Gaelic. (Yeah, I went there! You have to remember that freshman year I was a linguistics major.)

Anyway, I'll wrap this up with a moment of direct-to-Chris. I'm sorry. I get frustrated. Words are a big deal. I stress about them. I tell you I love you all the time because I just can't express it enough. Just... maybe try to speak a teeny bit more Gaelic on the blog? Just a teeny bit? Also... please try to remember what "Do whatever you want" means to me.

I love you.