Proposal and engagement: a beautiful outcome.

So, I understand that this is one side of the blog I have stopped updating as much, mostly cause I haven't had much push to update. A lot of my changes have been outward, and much of time, I take my inward changes for granted.

The last year and a half has been nothing but change. I finished college, I have signed up for the Marine Corps for music. I have lost a bunch of weight and gained my health back. And on top of this, I was in a relationship with Jonathan Casey.

Jonathan came into my life partway through my junior year of college. I never knew I would have committed to him. I really thought it wouldn't last. I was planning on breaking up partway through, but there was something about him that I could place my finger on. I really found him intriguing. About a month in, he told me he loved me. I was alarmed, because I was pretty sure he was just experiencing infatuation. But there was something in his eye that told me that he really loved me. As months passed, I started to feel like I had known him in the past. I felt like I had known him before. For many lives before. And we began to grow even closer. At that point, I was very busy with finishing school and deciding what to do with my life. He had gone through a lot of depression and rough times. I was extremely busy with my life. But I stayed there because I wanted him to be with me and I figured that I could be there just a little longer. But I realized that my love for him was deeper than I thought. And I really figured that I wanted to be married to him.


I'm going to fast forward to, well, yesterday.

Jonathan was strangely nervous and wanted to get me out of the house on time. He was ready to get me out. He told me we were going to the store. I got into the car, and he calmly says, "we're not going to the store, we're going downtown." I'm thinking ooooooo, adventure! But he drives us to downtown Portland and parks right next to Keller fountain. We pay for parking, and he proceeds to pull a basket out of the back and tells me we're going to have a picnic next to the fountain. It was a cloudy day, but I could tell that it was beautiful, even with the gray overcast.
He then looked me in the eye and smiles, as we find a spot next to the falls at the top. He proceeds to take out a bunch of food  can eat like greek yogurt, sugar free candy, cheese and veggies. He, of course, being Jonathan, pulled out M&Ms cause he couldn't help himself.
We eat for a few minutes, and he tells me he wants to go at the bottom of the fountain. I agree and we walk around. Little did I know, his sister and aunt were going to sneak around to help him with a couple of things, and I almost found them. But Jonathan, knowing my affinity for cats and kittens, happened to point out a kitten on a woman's shoulder. It was perfect timing. I started talking about my cat. Yes, I am secretly a crazy cat lady.
So we get to the bottom of the fountain and he wants to take me behind a fall. It was cold, but so beautiful. Jonathan found I was shaking from the temperature drop, so he hugged me and proceeded to tell me how much he loved me after he kissed me. I noticed he was nervous, but I thought it was because of the fountain. He really loved that freaking fountain. He talked about swimming in it all the time. After a few minutes of looking around and him taking a phone call from his roommate (I told him to answer, because I found their interaction hilarious). He grabbed my hand and led me out from behind the fall.
And that was when I spotted a giant heart shape in the center of the bottom of the fountain, made of pink rose pedals. I looked at Jonathan, trying to rack my brain, trying to figure out if that was there before. I do have terrible memory. "That wasn't there before was it?" And Jonathan avoids eye contact, as he does when he's nervous and says "nope." So he says to me, "I have something to tell you."
He pulls me next to the giant heart and places me upward, so he's a couple inches shorter than me. He pulls out a letter and reads from it. It was basically telling me why he loved me so much and everything he loved about me. About second line in, he began to cry. I could see him try to make eye contact, but he couldn't really speak. He was getting choked up already. Hearing his beautiful words, and watching him, I begin to cry. And it was right when he finishes, he gets down on one knee, pulls out a ring and asks, "Michelle Gabrielle Kingsbury, will you marry me?"
I nearly choke on my tongue, tears coating my eyes and I grab him. Well, more like hug-glomp. And I feel him sobbing. I tell him in his ear, "of course I'll marry you." All I can remember from then on is kissing and hugging this man who had just asked the question. This wonderful man, that I felt so connected to. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. His sister, Briele, and aunt Sarah had set up the rose pedals and recorded the whole thing. They had been so excited, and were sneaky about everything. They took pictures and recorded. We even had our own little audience at the top of the fountain. Even had a woman who was apparently gaping, and holding her mouth. It was so sweet, intimate, and yet, so beautiful. It was perfect.
And that's how Jonathan Casey proposed to me.

Now, we're planning a wedding, and fast. I will be in boot camp in a month time. I will have three months of that, six months of training. So we will be able to save up. Jonathan's sister, Samantha is a crazy good planner, and we're working on it now.
We're both so excited.

Life is wundorfool. Some days.

As many of you know, I have had a crazy roller coaster of learning, career decisions and future things.

Let me get the great stuff out of the way! ;) I passed an audition for the Marine Corps band in January, and I plan on going to MEPS in hopefully April. I would like to, I just have some weight to drop. I've already taken off a third of what I needed to. It was an answer to prayer, and I know this is going to be the career for me.

I just received my cap and gown today! This is a big deal, and I cannot wait to graduate! To get out and see the world. It is something I've been longing for for days and weeks. I want to be done.


For the thoughtful deep stuff, I've been questioning what it means to be a "soulmate." Does it mean to love and receive love? Does it mean to be with a person for a few years then say you're a soulmate? I discovered that I never really quite understood the meaning of it. I think, personally, it is a toss around word in America. We like the person we're with, so they're now a soulmate. Right? It annoys me. Some may have the answer to this, but as many times as it has been explained to me, the more lost I become. I will admit that I have over used this word, as well. I'm no one special. I guess I just didn't realize how much I have over done it with words. Like how I use the word "love" too much. You all know what I mean.

But anyhow. . .

I will update soon again, I just thought to give this blog some meaning. ;)

A Defined Answer

 

 

 

 

This is my answer. I was very excited about graduate school. I was even planning on saving for an A Clarinet and getting in connection with the professors. It seemed like everything I ever wanted.

 

But I notice something: I am getting tired and burnt out. I love school, but the idea of having to take more classes and having to write a thesis is really gross to me. I am tired of it. Not that I'm lazy, but I'm just tired. I wasn't going to be 100% into it.

I was freaking out. I wanted to perform. It was all I wanted. And I noticed something: I would have a hard time getting hired after my grad degree. I would truly be a "starving artist." And something didn't settle right with me after I left. I was extremely impressed with University of Oregon's music department and their programs, but I had a strange nudge that was doubtful. Something wasn't right.

I began to think of no solutions. I wanted to perform.

I wasn't entirely sure when it hit me. I knew it was another choice in case grad school didn't work out. Veterans day came and went, and I started to develop my doubts about graduate school. I got a lot of mixed feedback about joining the military band, but I felt strangely pulled to it. I decided to talk to my uncle Karl, who is in active duty in the navy. He had told me to audition before joining the branch. Or any branch for that matter. It was on my mind consistently. After a couple of days, I went to go talk to Pat about my career choices and he randomly handed me this brochure about the marine band. I was extremely surprised, and took it without question. It was all strangely eerie to me, though.

 

Another day later, I went to listen to the navy band on youtube and I clicked on Maslanka's fourth symphony and it was SPECTACULAR. Now, this really captured me when I started learning the music. And I felt like time had frozen, and I had an epiphany. Maybe I was suppose to be part of this kind of band? The idea put my worry at ease and I took note of it: I was suppose to be in a military band. It was what I wanted. Paid full time to be part of a military branch and play music?  I wanted it.

 

The branch I chose, after much consideration and talking to recruiters is the Marines. I went to call the local recruiter in Beaverton, and he was kind and took out time and effort to talk with me for a couple of hours. (I'm well away that that is their job--to convince) He and I talked about service and being a marine along with being a musician.

 

I knew it was what I wanted. I passed the first set of questions and assessment. I also found out I am twenty pounds over the mark to be sent to basic training in, but the recruiter offered to train me and help me keep my diet in tact (said to cut down on sugars). I wanted to be in this band. I still do. The passing score in playing is a 2.7, and if I pass, I'm guaranteed a spot in one of the marine bands. 3.0, I would get to choose where I was based and which band I played with. On top of this all is the idea of serving. I want to make a big difference, and I know it's what I want. I plan on leaving in June.

I will be a Marine.
And I will remain a musician.

Oh, more school? Maybe? This just seems like TREBLE.

Now that I got your attention with an awful music pun, there has been a major change in my life.

Well, it's not emotional, it's more career.

I went to Eugene with Jonathan on Thursday, last week. I was checking out the graduate program, meeting the clarinet instructor, and checking out the school itself. In case you're still confused, it is University of Oregon. There's a picture in case you're still confused.

Now, I came from a mediocre music program at best, with no private training (I didn't know it existed), with a plastic Bb Bundy clarinet. I played on 4 reeds, had a beginner mouthpiece, didn't know what solo contests were, didn't know All State existed, didn't know anything, really.

George Fox University turned my life completely around. I found out that I didn't even tongue. I had awful reeds, my clarinet was worthless, my embouchure was wrong, completely (I played with an oboe embouchure), my hands were stiff, my tone was edgy, and I was clueless entirely. Until I was whipped into shape. My instructor, despite our strained relationship, turned me from a weak, non-existant player, to what I am now. She broke all (that I know of) of my bad habits, taught me how to play and caught me up to the level I needed to be for advanced undergraduate. I bought a professional clarinet, mouthpiece, and improved my reeds, while expanding my repertoire. At first, I was thoroughly discouraged. Why would I be a performer? It's what I originally wanted. But I felt like there was no way to catch up. But I still loved music, so I inherited Music Education into my major, creating a double major.

Last spring, Pat decided to send Alyssa (a bassoon player) and I to the CBDNA conference. We were to play with the intercollegiate honor band. I felt excited. This was the first collective band I had played in (keep in mind, I didn't know All State existed until college). Let me tell you, I was HUMBLED. These players were GOOD. I was fifteenth chair out of twenty(secretly amused I beat Linfield), and the first chair was spectacular. In fact, his intensity scared me a little. I wanted to be like him, but I felt like all hope was lost.

On the last day, the director asked us to raise our hands to which major we were. I realized I was the only third that was performance, and I was even further discouraged from performing itself. Until he said what I didn't expect. This was what changed me forever.

"If you want to perform, perform! Don't just sit around and watch other people do it. Some people start at different levels. Some will take more work, some will take less, but if you work hard enough, you will eventually get there. Don't sell yourself short."

I sat there stunned. I had convinced myself in three years that I wasn't worth it. I loved teaching, but I LOVED performing. The high, the love, the fact I could influence, and the way I understood the music. I felt my eyes tear up, and I felt like, in a way, he was speaking directly to me. I wanted to perform. Why did I tell myself I couldn't?

So, after that weekend, I focused on performing. And I realized that I wanted to go to grad school. University of Oregon wasn't even on my list of options until a professor mentioned graduating from there and the good program it had.

Again, I was stunned when I arrived. There were 15 clarinet majors. Only 2 here at Fox. And these were amazing players. But I only felt driven at that point.

I told the instructor that I would do anything to be the best and I noticed that I was echoing the same words I had spoken to Pat Vandehey when I auditioned for the George Fox band. I wanted to be the best. I wanted to perform. I still want to be the best and perform, and I felt myself tearing up while talking to the clarinet instructor at U of O last week. I was conveying my heart, much like I had during my GFU audition. It was all I wanted. To perform and be the best. It was strange how, even though I myself have changed immensely, that the love and drive has not changed. It may have been widened due to teaching, but it has stayed with me for four years.

After all this time, since I have started this blog, I can honestly say that that will never change.

In a sense, not changing is also a strange thing, too.

Life flashing before your eyes.

I never thought I would be confronted with such a thought.

Monday night, at about 10:15, I was in a severe car accident. I was driving 219, the curved back road back to my home in Beaverton. The roads were slick and I remember I was going about 35 mph on a suggested 30 mph curve, the speed limit actually 55 mph.

I lost control of the car, causing my car to slam into a tree (the passenger side), the back of the passenger side pushed, the momentum causing my car to flip twice, landing on it's back. I was extremely disoriented and felt immediately freaked out (of course, I had extreme amounts of adrenaline). The first thing I thought of was, "I gotta turn off this car, or it could catch fire" and followed by "how the hell do I get out of here??" I had a hard time breathing because of shock. Somehow, I had found my seatbelt, unbuckled it, found the door and despite the smashed state, I opened it, crawling out. The key had slid out of the ignition (it had done that before, it was just a flaw, as it ran just fine), so while shaking severely, I hunted down the key, turned off the car and had a hard time standing, because I felt so dizzy and the shaking was not, in any way, helping. I dragged my things out of the car, and tried to call Jonathan. I left a thirty second voicemail of me screaming. I wasn't sure what to do, say, or think. I just kept yelling "help." I wasn't aware it had gone to voicemail.
When I realized no one was about to pick up anytime soon, I decided to flag someone down. I held onto the car for support and began to feel aches in my legs, nose, neck, and lip. The second person stopped his car and made a call to 911. Then it hit me: I almost died. I had come inches away from death. I began to hyperventilate, because I felt like my lungs had closed off. Tears formed in my eyes and I couldn't stop sobbing. I couldn't believe I was alive. It was at that point that a bus of kids stopped and two coaches stepped out to see if everything was okay. They stayed with me until the EMT arrived (which was quick, considering it had only been 10 minutes). I still had no ability to discontinue my crying.
When the fireman talked to me, he calmed me down and asked if anything had hurt. My neck hurt the most. I told him, and he said that he wanted to send me to the hospital because any kind of spinal damage could really hurt me in the long run. So, I was sent to the hospital after being strapped onto a board. At this time, a cop was talking to me, picking to see if I had done anything against the law. He asked me if I had been speeding: I said no, I was going twenty under. Drinking? I said no, I had come back from Fox. When he found out I was from George Fox, he put his citation pad away quickly. Apparently, we have great reputation, even with the police department. He only wanted my information to take a report.
I arrived at St. Vincents and spent about 2 1/2 hours in the hospital, they checked me over making sure I had no permanent damage or bleeding. Surprisingly enough, I had no lasting damage. The worse was to my neck: I had strained it from whiplash. I didn't have any bruising from the seat belt, no bleeding, no concussion, and the only things I had bruised was a small part of my nose, my shins, and a part of my wrist. A very small bruise. They told me I would be sore for a few days, and to take it easy, also stating that the seatbelt had saved my life. I cried again, more out of shock, because I still couldn't believe I was alive. Jonathan had arrived at the hospital, and his eyes were red from crying. He couldn't believe it and was so relieved I was alive.

I was alive.

I realize that that night, I was spared from death. The Lord was really watching over me. That I happened to land on the only patch of concrete in the entire back road. That I happened to have a stuck seatbelt that stayed firm. That I happened to walk out and go to school on Wednesday/Thursday.

I saw death before my eyes. I was spared by the Lord.

This was my Monday night.

I didn't see my life flashing before my eyes, but it was definitely a moment where I was spared from death.

Praise God.

Questions and Answers

A lot has been on my mind in the past few weeks. These things generally:

• Children
• Disease
• Sociopathy
• Love
• Addictions
• Pain
• Pursuing dreams
• Career

All to say, I think I'm going to give a short summary to all of these, and don't worry, they're all connected. I just think I'll start at the top.

Ever since I left home, I've been the type to think I would have kids later. I'm starting to think that maybe I won't. I don't think I could handle it. I wouldn't have the guts to give up my life for a kid. I want to teach, yes. But not have my own kids. I really have a major fear that I will pass down Muscular Dystrophy to my future kids (which really scares the ever-loving hell out of me) and I couldn't do what my mother does and stays home with my baby brother, Josiah. I couldn't stay home with my kid. I feel extremely selfish, but I feel like this is a legit fear. This is where the thoughts of disease plays in. I'm basically a breeding ground for disease. I have bad skin, have chances at 3 different types of cancers, I currently have high blood pressure, diabetes risk, fatigued, asthma, bad joints, bad eyesight, PCOS, MD carrier, malignant hyperthermia (which is connected to MD), I had childhood epilepsy and social issues, as well as an auditory dyslexia problem (which I still occasionally deal with). I just have bad health all around. Oh, and I struggle with weight. I just don't want to pass any of that to my future kids. At all. So I should probably not have them. Just as a safety mechanism.

Speaking of not wanting kids.

I've been looking up sociopathy because I have tendencies toward it. And it's kinda unnerving that some days, I could care less about how a person feels, as long as I get what I want and do anything to get to it. I'm not a sociopath. I care too much about others and what they think. I just have tendencies and will occasionally display signs of it. I'm currently writing a novel about a male with two different personalities, the human good side and the demon side. The demon, is a sociopath. I have a friend who told me that I wrote too naturally as a sociopath. Said I sounded like I lived it. That made me a tad nervous. Sociopathy is generally not a good thing to society.

This leads to love.

I wonder what it takes for someone to love unconditionally. Just a thoughtful question. God? Good experiences? I know the obvious Christian answer. But what about a philosophical one?

Anywho . . .

I know people who struggle with love addiction. I'm not one of them. I will gladly love and accept love naturally and not obsessively. But when I was talking to the counselor, I realized I have an addictive personality. To cope, I become a workaholic. Or I eat too much. Or I find something else to binge on. Luckily, I have some amounts of common sense, so I stop when I realize it's getting unhealthy (it's probably why I'm not a drug addict). But then I latch to something else. Yet another thing to work through, I suppose. Most of this is result of pain I didn't deal with until now. My issues of my past have leaked out in many ways, and addictions are one of many ways I've mentally coped. I know that when I work through, I will still have my dreams and drive, but it won't be so unhealthy to the point of exhaustion.

My career path totally changed this last week. I still want to be a teacher and I only have one year of school left. Might as well get my music education degree. However, I really want to be a performer. I had many arrows in Reno point me to performing. And so, once I confirmed it with myself, I upped the practice, I'm currently raising money for a new instrument, and I am meeting with the instructor at PSU in two weeks to take a lesson from her and get more information about their masters in performance. I just want to perform. Endless hours of rehearsal actually appeal to me. Very few actually like that. And few would put in the hours of practice. I want to. It seems like the right choice. However, I've accepted the fact I will never have money. Musicians are poor as hell. :P

But this is a summary of my thoughts. Penny for yours? ;)

Another 90 Degree Angle.

Another change, yet again has taken place.

Of course this reflects my blog name. This blog is about tracking the process of change, am I right? Well, I've been seeing a therapist (and quite frankly, I think everyone should, because everyone has something they're carrying around). And I've recovered some memories of my childhood that one should not remember. Quite frankly, I was glad my mind decided to block it out till now, because it's something I wouldn't've handled well until about now, anyway.

So, this memory is a huge root of all my insecurities, issues, and my mental and emotional state. It was a shock and almost painful to remember such a thing. I had only remembered the memory around it, but not the event itself. The counselor was asking simple questions, and when I remembered it, it was a shock.

All this to say, ever since I had remembered, I feel sad for what happened. But. . . lighter. Like my subconscious was leaking, and now, since I know wha

t is going on, I can patch it up. My moods and my thoughts have improved. Instead of feeling supremely pissed at situations, I feel only irritated. Instead of having downward spirals in thoughts, I have a step downstairs and I step back up. It was amazing how different I felt and continue to feel.

It was when I realized that I probably had a few other things in my childhood that was blocked in my mind, and a lot of my deep rooted issues was in these situations, and I think it was a memory block that keeps these locked away out of protection for my previous mental state. But now, since the blocks are becoming a negative force, I have to find them and push them out of the way.

Out of this I really feel like the tattoo I'm getting tomorrow is appropriate. Here is the design:

The font will be much more formal, and the tattoo artist is tweaking it to make it more symmetrical.

This tattoo symbolizes that even in the dark times, even when I have nothing left, the Lord is always there and he is to be given glory to. He is my light.

"19 The sun shall be no more your light by day,

nor for brightness shall the moon give you light;

but the LORD will be your everlasting light,

and your God will be your glory.

20 Your sun shall no more go down,

nor your moon withdraw itself;

for the LORD will be your everlasting light,

and your days of mourning shall be ended."

--Isaiah 60:19-20

It is so weird that all of this should come together when I have this inspiration of a design. I believe my body is the temple of the Lord. The temple is unique, and I think that if I have a permanent marking, it should glorify God, because I am a temple. So, this marking is very important to me. It marks a new turn, just as the one on my ankle does. :)

^{20 It}

So overall, now, I feel like I have a path and a direction when it comes to positive change. This will be painful for a while, but I know overall, it will help me become the person I was born to be.