Wedding things!

There is something that I haven't really talked about that I'm really really excited about. Mostly because I have been so wrapped up in my career and leaving that my woman instincts have been turned off.
Today, though, I went to a bridal store with my future sister-in-law, Samantha. She is much more of a womanly person and she's also my main planner and sharing the role of maid of honor with my best friend, Jason (who is actually the 'man of honor').
I had never really thought of what kind of dress I enjoyed, until I tried one on. If you see my facebook page and my "secret album" (the one Jonathan can't see), you can see the dress that I fell in love with. It is so beautiful.
Another thing I decided is to have it at the Portland World Trade Center.

This is where the ceremony would take place.

This is where the reception would be held.

 

 

I really love how it looks. It's so me and Jonathan. We love the environment and the beauty. And the prices are very good for a venue, and it includes catering.

 

This weekend, we are going back to David's bridal to see other deals on bridesmaid dresses and find a cheaper look alike for the dress. Then, we're going to the Men's Warehouse to find Jonathan's and the groomsman's tuxes. I'm so excited, and Jonathan is smiling more, which is showing more excitement on his end.

 

We have other ideas on items like cakes:

The first cake is our number one choice, but the second is something we like, too.

 

 

And the floral arrangements:

 

These are still in debate.

 

 



But I'm so excited! I will update more when more happens! :D

I'm so ready to start my life.

I'm at that point.

You know. That point.

As many of the people I talk to/follow me on social networking, I leave pretty soon. Fifty-two days, in fact.


As my career and new life begin to approach me, the time seems to slow down. And I'm noticing something about my life now: I'm starting to look back on my high school and college years and a lot of emotions come rushing through. Confusion, shame, guilt, frustration, and straight anger.

I thought to myself and wondered why these could be? I didn't want to look back and only forced myself to think forward.

One thing that made me realize why I had so much guilt was because I was extremely selfish and lonely. I wanted people to notice me. But I wouldn't try hard for a friendship. Out of all honesty, I was burned a lot as a child. But my thoughts were "if they love me, they will reach out to me." When they did, I did, but I never tried on my own. Especially in college. I was so angry. So so angry.

I was angry that I wasn't good enough in my standard. I was angry that I was never part of the "crowd." I was angry that I never lived up to expectations. I was angry that I didn't go out with people to movies. I was angry that I was not exceptional but okay to good. I was angry that people found me to be annoying. I annoyed myself, but no one really knew that the anger stemmed from the loneliness and fear. And yet, whenever I tried to say anything to anyone, trying to let people know how I felt, I was shut down often. Told to get over it or that I could think about it later. I was often dropped when people found me to be emotionally more work than just a shallow conversation. And I'm sure that there were many busy people, but it was sad. Being told that Jesus loves me with a pat on the head is not really a way to make anyone feel better. I needed a form of love, and the lack of it created walls in my mind.

The reason why I majored in music was for me. I love band with everything I have. Since I was eleven, it was everything. But I was lazy in my mind. People said I worked hard, and I felt the opposite. I should have majored in only performance, but people told me to "be realistic" about my abilities. This made me angry, too. The anger turned to eating. I ate candy and junk consistently. See, my stomach would ache severely when I ate sugar because I'm insulin resistant. I would purposefully eat sugar so I didn't have to eat normal food and I would starve and binge. Of course, I would never lose weight. I gained. Now, I look back, and I realize I most likely had an eating disorder. My paranoia began to rise, and the few people I trusted and wanted to be around were "too busy" to put stock in me, but found times to go out and spend time with others. The pain of rejection flowed and by senior year, my experience at George Fox turned for the worst. My instructor told me I was B- average in performance and kept telling me I would have to "work harder" to be a performer. She consistently implied that I wasn't going to make it. Depression overcame me, and I just wanted most of it to end. On top of that, my relationship was rocky. My instrument became my only friend. But even then, it mocked me and I felt like I could hear my instructor telling me how weak of a player I was. But the only thing I could look forward to was band. Rehearsing. Even though the people in the group may have had better friends and found me to be annoying, and even crazy, I felt like through the music I had an unspoken bond.

When I played music, the paranoia, worry, sadness, depression and exhaustion melted away. The anger at my peers dissipated and I could only feel music. It's how I knew it was to be my career. I was looking for a way to play professional without having people give me that look and tell me "good luck." And don't get me wrong, I'm sure people had faith in me. But I often got that look.

Around November of last year, I talked to a Marine about the band. I heard from director and something nudged me to think about joining the military band. My director gave me a card and let me know that a Marine had passed through. I called and got some questions out of the way. At that point, I visited the recruiting station in Beaverton a few times and eventually set up with an audition set for January. A part of me felt like I would fail this. I felt like I was set up for failure. But it was a professional chance. I practiced, went to my audition, and passed. I was so excited. Finally, my first lead. My first chance. Many were excited for me, but I could sense some disdain in a few. My instructor seemed to have the idea I was sliding by on "dumb luck." Then came the next goal: losing 40lbs. With my eating disorder and pain, I was worried. But I started to work. And I realized that teaching, was maybe in the late future, and performing was now. I got my degree and continued to lose weight.

Around July, I switched recruiting stations, because I needed a change and I was ready for it. I worked harder, and lost all my weight by August. I enlisted into the Marines in September and was given a date for boot: January 6th.

Thinking about that, I'm excited. But I keep thinking back to high school and college and wonder, "why am I still upset and afraid?"

And then I realized that I was afraid of what people were thinking about me still. I found out that people would not talk to me because they were "warned" that I was moody and unpredictable. I didn't even realize it (I have a face that looks permanently pissed...not sure why...). A couple of people who still went to get to know me anyway said that they couldn't believe people would think this way.

I think what people saw in the moodiness was my sadness, anger and loneliness, not toward other people, but by the disappointment in myself. I still don't like to think back to college. High school isn't as bad (but it's probably because it's been over four years now). By the end of college, I didn't care. There were a couple of people I cared about, but I was angrier than ever. I just hated. Anger. I felt like my leaving was just a relief to people.

I just want to lead a life where I don't feel pissed off or guilty anymore. Where I can just be me and not have to worry about laziness or someone telling me that I'm not good enough.

So far, since I decided for the Marines, I have had nothing but encouragement and people who have pushed me. I can pursue my music career like I dreamed. I have developed great relationships with recruits and I feel close to my poolee family.


But I have to wait a little longer, and I'm sure it will do me some good. Patience has not been a virtue of mine. I should probably develop it. And this is not a directed at any single people I have associated with in the past.

I just felt like getting this down and letting people know what was in my head is healthy and a way to move on from this burden sitting on my shoulders. I love many, and often I cry for those in pain. But I wanted some of you to know what was going on in college and why I hid from a lot of you. It was all internal, and I had no rage toward any individuals.
For those of you who were there, thank you. You were the reason why I continued to trudge.

I'm ready to start my new life, and I hope to write most of you.

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.