Almost There

Oh man, oh man, oh man.

I am leaving in two days. Two days.

My good friends Heather and Stephanie helped me pack yesterday. Heather came over first and we cleared out the kitchen and Stephanie came over between her work shifts. I am pretty much done. Now all I have to do is throw away the old food in the refrigerator and clean the place, although it is more dusty than anything.

Nathaniel is sleeping beside me and he is not snoring, which is lovely. He is sleeping peacefully, and he will sleep peacefully all morning long until noon, so I decided to keep myself busy. His room is such a boys room and it's strange, because I have no desire to clean it up. Being with him has let me turn down my control factor. I've come to understand that most people who are living in their own place, that they finance themselves, can handle their own messes. What a funny realization.

He has work at three, so I will head back to my house and do all the last minute cleanup. I'm meeting my mom for dinner at the restaurant I used to work at, and then I'll head to her house to gather any things I left behind. I have a busy day and it will all start after noon! Perfect! Because my life starting January 5 is going to be a life filled with long nights and early mornings. I'll savor what I have now thank you very much.

Until next time.

Oh, the photo above is of his cat Sachi's whiskers.

Boyfriends

The other day I found out that my ex-boyfriend of four years had split from his live-in girlfriend. And you know what? I didn’t freakin’ care. All I wanted to do was say ‘I told him so’. I remember what happened that day when I went to go get my ‘stuff’.

The stuff I had left there and still needed in my then single life. Stuff like books, and that pair of socks, and those CD’s that he never listened to.

We were standing by his Volkswagen station wagon and I had a stack of things in my arms. He told me that a girl would be moving in to the extra room. Maybe out of jealousy, or maybe out of love, I told him, ‘Don’t date her’. I said, ‘You should never date your roommates’.

I don’t know what made me say that but I felt it in my heart that this could be a disaster for him. And sure enough, it was. He is now living with an ex-girlfriend. I can’t imagine how awkward that is, but it makes me feel pretty good that I was mature enough to make the decision that I did not want to live with him when we were together. (I had the option to move in when my lease was up.) I thought to myself, ‘I am way too young for that shit.’ And sure enough, I was right

It makes me happy that I could make that decision on my own.

I saw him the other day at a Christmas Eve party and I realized how different we both were. I could not have a normal conversation with him. He was way too out there. I wanted to talk about life, how it was going, and how were his parents. But he was way too interested in rolling around on the floor with his stomach full of Russian vodka.

Luckily, I can hold my vodka.

Maybe I’m being bitter. We did not have the best break up. I had just gotten off work (I was a hostess at a very fancy restaurant) and he invited me over for soup and wine. I was irritable already and when we started drinking the Monticello wine that tasted overripe, we started getting argumentative. We started fighting. And it ended with me yelling, ‘Well if you’re not happy, break up with me!’.

Door slams. I drive off in a huff.

And that was that.

Now I’m sitting in my present boyfriend’s bed. His name is Nathaniel and he is sleeping peacefully while my fingers type type type. Sometimes he snores, but I still love him. I hope we can work things out like adults when situations arise. I hope we can be happy with the decisions that we make.

Oh, and thank you Ms. Moon for inspiring me to write about this. It was something I needed to do.

Moving Blues

I’m looking around at everything I have to move and it all seems cemented to the ground. It’s just now hitting me. Even though I’m only moving 2 ½ hours away I feel like my life is being uprooted. I feel like it is changing. When I went backpacking in New Zealand that was not life changing, that trip added to my personal experience.
But now my life is beginning again.

There are silver fish in every cardboard box and my clothes have become an un-climbable mountain on my little twin bed. All the dust is getting kicked up into my face and I’m remembering how the last time I moved I was ready. Now I’m not so sure.

Nothing wants to go into a box! Everything wants to stay in its little place. I want someone to come over and do this for me because it is almost too much work. It is almost too painful. I’m sitting inside just like I sat inside all those days before.

It’s pretty outside but I have no yard to go play in. My new house will have a yard but I think I will feel timid to bring a blanket out there and lay down. I’ve met my new roommates and I think they are nice but will they be freaked out by how I do things? Will composting seem foreign to them? Will they get upset if I play my record player when I’m cleaning up my room? Will I be able to have my friends over?
There is so much I am unsure of. The only thing I am sure of is that it is time. Time for me to move on. I will get stuck here just like every other person I know that is too scared to try something new. I’ve earned this opportunity.

Now I have to figure out what to pack next.

Santa Time

Oh wow. I was just at an amazing party. Let me tell you, I get party anxiety. Really bad. Especially parties that my ex-boyfriend of four years is attending. It turned out fine though. We hugged, chatted somewhat. He's a strange boy. He's very yoga-ey and spiritual. I'm more girly girl and brash.

I'm now laying in bed at my mom's place and I can hear my younger brother whistling in the other room. It's midnight and he still whistles. It reminds me of when we were younger. I would get so mad and storm into his room and yell at him to be quiet so that I could go to bed. I'm a lot nicer now. I think it helped that I moved out.

I can't believe how tired I am. It's time to go to bed and wait for Santa to break in.

Ciao!

Short Hair is Short

Holiday Stresses

I am getting my hair cut today, and not just any haircut. This haircut will mark the shortest my hair has ever been since I was born, or maybe around two-years-old. For the past week I have been imagining what my hair would look like if it was up by the tips of my ears. I have imagined very hard and decided that I would love it. And if I didn’t love it so what? It’s just hair! I am fortunate enough to have hair that grows back. That is what I am thankful for this holiday season.

I have to go pick my cousin up from SAIL around 12:30pm and I’m still sitting on my couch looking at this damn scarf I’ve been knitting for the past two days. I sure as heck don’t want it (because I have too many scarves) and I don’t know who to give it to. It’s purple, yellow, black, and blue and it is very funky. I’ll figure something out.

I also have to venture to the mall and I am frightened by this. It is way too crowded over there and I’m afraid all my gas will run out from idling in the parking lot. I have to return some tights to Banana Republic. The package says the tights are M/L and they barely reach my thighs. I am pretty sure there is no children’s Banana Republic so I’m going to try and get my $14 back or another pair of tights.

As the end of the month gets nearer I get more and more stressed out. My dad is coming down from Washington DC to help my move and he just informed me he would be sleeping on my couch on the 31st. My boyfriend is having a party that night but I don’t want my poor father to spend New Year’s Eve alone. The dilemma is my dad will want to attend said party and that is not happening. I love my dad with all my heart and it is great that he wants to spend time with my friends and take part in our events, but it makes me uncomfortable to be under the influence of anything around him and I’m not going to forfeit a glass of champagne on New Year’s.

I don’t know what to do.

Well, it’s time for me to go get my cousin, go get my hair cut, brave the Governors Square Mall and finish this scarf.

Till next time.

The Beginning

Isn’t it crazy how a person’s genuine feelings can hurt another person’s feelings? Sometimes I think people are annoying, or mean, or ignorant, and it is how I feel. This would hurt these people however and they might resent me.

I’m sitting on my green tea couch (it seriously resembles the color of green tea) and I am drinking my boyfriend’s beer. He left it in my fridge so it is fair game. I just watched a movie called ‘Cash Back’ and it made me think about a lot of things. Like feelings. We have so many as human beings and sometimes I catch myself looking at a dog and seriously pondering if they ever feel hurt, or happy, frustrated even.

I was looking at a dog today, a very old dog named Pearl. It is my best friend Jessie’s boxer and we were out at her parent’s house in Lloyd, a little historic town. Pearl has wandered behind a chair in the hallway. This particular chair had a blanket draped over it and the long part of the blanket was hanging down the back. In my mind Pearl was enjoying the feeling of the blanket on her back. Enjoying. Can a dog enjoy? She stood there for several moments and I couldn’t see her eyes but I imagined them being squinty-like. It would be easy for someone to tell me to go talk to a veterinarian and propose my questions to them but that is just too easy and I don’t like instant gratification.

I am starting up this blog right at this particular moment because Jessie’s mother Mary inspired me. She writes in her blog every day, sometimes twice a day. She told me that it is a challenge to try and think of something to write about. But even if you start to write about the weather things come to your mind that you would never have thought would.

Besides, I just got accepted into journalism school, so it would be a good idea for me to challenge myself. I must make a pledge though.

I will never make myself feel guilty for not writing in my blog one day. Because I am tired of making myself feel guilty. If I wake up at noon so what? If I eat almost an entire bag of cookies so what? So what so what so what? I will only feel guilt if I hurt a living thing.

And maybe if I don’t study for something.