I Think I Wanna Marry You

If one more person accidentally refers to my boyfriend as my fiance I may lose it.  He has NOT put a ring on it.  We've been together for 2 1/2 years and we live together and we are in love, but we aren't engaged yet.  Would I be opposed to it? No. Am I clamoring for it to happen? No.

I'm happy.  I get to wake up every morning with him sleeping next to me.  He has this blue mouthguard that I make him use, and he looks like a little baby when he is asleep.  He knows when I wake up and he will roll over and cuddle me in his sleep.  He does little cute things that he doesn't realize he is even doing.  He has this manly factor where he takes care of me, but sometimes he's a little tiny bit sensitive.  If I refuse to sleep with anything more than a sheet, he'll put a comforter on me once I'm asleep.

My family nearly demands that he be at every holiday and family event.  Even my sister likes him. Not easy.  So I'd be happy to be married one day soon or not so soon.  These Freudian slips are just freaking me out.  It's up to us when we get married, and I don't think I need to be impatient about it.  I'm only 22 for fuck's sake!

We Play Pretend

There have been a lot of break-ups going on around me. My sister. My roommate. A friend. It's getting a little intense. Everywhere I turn, someone is asking me what to do or how to feel or why this happened. I don't have the answers! I've only had one break-up in my life. I have absolutely nothing to compare it to and I don't know what the best outcome of a break-up is. Are you supposed to be friends? Are you supposed to hate each other? Something between? A combination of the two? So far, 2 of them have ended in very painful and emotional schisms. One is remaining a friendship (I think).

Is staying friends with an ex like leading them on? One one hand, there is a shared history.  The experiences you have with that person can never be duplicated.  The are unique and special, no matter what you do. On the other hand, something happened that separated the two of you. Something big.  Maybe you fell out of love. Maybe one or both of you did something unforgivable. Whatever it was, obviously it was big enough to move you to break-up.  I can understand not wanting to let go of an ex, but if they haven't moved on, are you leading them on? Keep them on a back burner for future use, maybe?

I don't understand relationships with someone you've already broken up with. Well, that's not entirely true. Intellectually I understand why someone would want to get back with an ex. Familiarity. Comfort. What I don't understand is why you would think it will work out this time. The trust was broken or the feelings weren't there. How do you get over that? How do you come back from that?

Take, for example, my one previous relationship.  It was a messy break-up if there ever was one! A mixture of miscommunication, blind trust, love quadrangle, and insecurity. I shared a lot with him, though. I don't just mean 'firsts', but I also mean a real friendship.  We had a lot in common.  Of course I miss having a partner that shared so many of my interests.  I just don't know how painful it would be to try friendship again. I would be scared that looking at him or hearing his voice would bring back a slew of painful memories. But he was my best friend. Who broke my heart. Maybe accidentally, but it happened.

UGH. Life is so damn complicated.

It's been more than 2 years since we stopped having anything to do with each other, but he often pops up in my mind. Mostly when I look at my little library in my living room and realize he has read more books there than my current boyfriend has - by far. He suggested a number of them to me, actually. Although so have my 2 roommates. I have quite a bit in common with them too. I think the difference is the way we see the books. My books are like my children. I arrange them lovingly and reverently, while my roommates see them as a way to pass the time. He understood how I felt.

We also had the same sense of humor. It's probably what kept us together so long, despite the distance. I think what ultimately did us in was fear and insecurity.  He didn't trust my feelings, and I was afraid that he was going to drop me at any minute. When things ended, they got even more complicated if that's even possible. I don't really want to go into it, but it was like the door to friendship was permanently sealed.

So why do I want to talk to him now? Why have I (mostly) forgiven him?  He had more than 2 years of my life. I don't want to date him again. A friendship would be nice, I think. I'm not sure. He probably doesn't want to talk to me or see me ever again anyway. Now that he is so much closer to me. IRONY.

We'll see. Maybe I'll make a new friend somewhere that loves to laugh and read the same way I do. Maybe.

Someone Like You

It has been a long week, my friends. Mostly because my grandfather passed away on October 15 and I've been hurting and rushing around ever since.

My grandfather was a complicated man. Throughout his service and the luncheon that followed everyone kept saying, "Calvin had simple tastes."  I don't think that is quite accurate. It implies that he was simple, which is the furthest thing from the truth.  He had 7 siblings and he was the odd man out. While they were all straight laced children of the local Baptist minister, he walked his own path.  From what I've been told he has been a heavy drinker for the last 50 years and I know that he was also a chain smoker. Once, as a small child, I went up to my Grandpa Calvin and said, "Smoking isn't good for you, you know."  He replied is his deep timbre, "You aren't my mother, you don't get to tell me what to do." I shut up. Haha.

That was the thing about my grandpa, his voice vibrated in your chest.  He had this voice that could scare the paint off the walls.  When people meet my dad they tell me how deep his voice is, but it doesn't compare to Calvin's. It made his words leave an impression on you. He wasn't a big man, but I didn't realize that until Thursday, when he didn't say a word.

I'm not sure if it's because he was my grandpa that I wasn't afraid of him or because I naturally see through that kind of thing. (Probably the grandpa thing). I rarely saw him but we called every now and then and they were the easiest conversations to have. I'm not sure why, because we didn't have much in common, but I could talk to him at length without there ever being an awkward pause or verbal filler.

I really will miss him.  He made my dad and my uncles who they are. He made me who I am.

Rest In Peace Calvin

I'm Coming Over

Something big has happened. I've been talking about it for a long time. It makes me really happy. It will be a bit of an adjustment and I know it will require some work, but I'm glad it has happened. I moved in with my boyfriend. :)

He lives in a house his father owns with two of his friends. It is definitely a fixer upper, but I relish in the challenge. In fact, I caulked the shower last night! Once that sets, I'll do the other bathroom as well. My biggest foe is really the wallpaper. It's atrocious! Most of the house has this thatched fabric-y wallpaper straight out of 1975. I'm going to start in the master bathroom because it's small, has ugly wallpaper and will be a good place to test out the supplies I bought.

There is a hole in the living room ceiling from the plumber checking the pipes. They were fine, but he realized our handy man didn't caulk the bathtub after he put in new tile. Bush league. The handy man is a topic for another day, he infuriates me.

Moving has really taken it out of me, but I'm still excited. I want to do everything that needs to be done today. It seems, however, that the boys are much less motivated than I am. I was talking to one last night and he said that having the railing in the stairwell lying on the stairs didn't bother him. There are exposed, sharp nails!

Sometimes men confuse me.

I Can Be Loathsome, I Can Wholesome

I've been home for an hour, and usually I don't stay up this late. I can't get to bed, and I'm not sure why. I keep telling myself it's the heat. Maybe it isn't? I think the summer heat brings out reality for me. Summer is so full of anticipation and hope and it makes me nervous. It makes me wonder about the mistakes I've made. About things I did that I don't think are mistakes, but seem wrong all the same.

I want to walk across the street and into the lake and just swim for a while. In the middle of the night. That would be relaxing.

I can't just go back to my bed and lay in the heat and think about everything. I'll lose my mind.

I keep talking about moving forward, but I'm not sure that I'm ready. I keep doubting everything for no reason. This is so stupid. I don't even know what I'm talking about. Why do I think so hard about every damn tiny little thing? It's going to be my downfall one day.

Remember when you are young and love is desperate and intense and crazy and idiotic? Your whole life is made or broken in a matter of instances and in some odd way it feels like it's normal? Everything stays exciting, but it also gets real and you are suddenly responsible for not only this other new person, but everyone that contacts your relationship. Then your love compared to their love and their old loves and your old loves and you wonder which is most correct.

Then you look at your love and you are so happy and relaxed and that teenage you is like, "Why didn't I have that? It's not so scary."

How do people that make the right choices make them? Is it just an impulse or instinct or do they really think it through? Is it wrong to consider your options before deciding or is that calculating? Can you be smart without being a shrew?

Love Me Dead

One of my best friends is engaged and she asked me to be co-maids of honor with her sister. Before I had any experience with wedding planning, I thought that because most people get married that it couldn't be that complicated. I was dead wrong. There are so many things you have to consider when planning a wedding. The one major overarching component that must always be in the back of your mind is the budget.

Also, one person needs to be decisive. DECISIVE.

For A Lifetime

Ever since my last post, I've had the song I used for title stuck in my head. It's Sweet Tangerine by The Hush Sound and it's actually a bit of a desperate song, unlike my post. I can not stop thinking about my past these days. In the days when I had first heard THS. Or even before.

I facebooked my first little kindergarten crush today. I didn't try to friend him, but it was weird knowing that after he left my school in second grade that he went on and became this dude who moved across the country and uses the N word and still kind of looks like he did when he was 5 and I would tie his shoes.

I really fucking hate feeling nostalgic. It's not because I miss the fun things I did when I was young (that doesn't bother me). It's because I feel like I'm letting the young, fun, adventurous version of me down. I had such vision, and now I'm in my third year at a two year school with no money to continue and no job. I never used to doubt myself.

In other ways, I am so glad my life is the way it is. I feel mature, but not boring. I am comfortable with myself. I'm not so full of shit anymore, either, which is a nice feeling.

I have been thinking of changing my major. I'm not sure that is really the solution for the feelings I'm having. I chose Biology because science has always been the most interesting and challenging subject for me. My career goals were to become a doctor and have this utopian practice where women could decide how they wanted to go through labor and delivery. I still think I am capable of that. My real objective for that career move is to help people who are usually glossed over.

All I really want to do is help people.

I don't think working for a charity is the way to go because in many aspects, charities are businesses and I'm not really one for schmoozing. I've been reading a book called 3 Cups of Tea. It's the story of an American man, Greg Mortenson, who is a little lost and in a grief stricken move decides to climb the world's second tallest mountain to leave his recently deceased sister's necklace at the top. On his way down after not making it to the top, he gets lost and stumbles into a very remote Pakistani village. There he sees about 80 children (only 4 are girls) doing multiplication tables in the dirt with sticks. After all they have done for him, he promises them that he is going to build them a school.

He goes back to the US, lives in his car and writes hundreds of letters trying to get some funds for the supplies. Through a lucky connection, a well-to-do scientist sends him a check for everything he needs. After many hurdles and life altering events, he gets the school built and forms a institution to build even more schools. I think he has more than 50 built now.

At the time, he was in Pakistan just as the Taliban was growing powerful. His primary goal was also to educate girls. He knew that by educating this village, and villages like it, he would help fight terrorism. There were other schools that these villages could have sent their children to, but the Taliban ran them and were indoctrinating these kids to be extremists.

Obviously, I don't plan on having that kind of impact on the world. I do want to help people. So many charities treat the symptoms and not the causes. Greg Mortenson, ironically a nurse, knew to treat the cause. I want my life to mean something, I don't want to live my life at a desk. I'm not sure how to do it.

A Little Bit of Sweetness

It's 2:15 AM. I am lying in my bed with only a sheet, no blankets. My window is open. I can hear a train horn in the distance. It's warm, but not hot. The wind is blowing in a soft breeze. Occasionally thunder bellows miles away. All those posts I've written about missing my childhood and feeling unsettled are about missing these moments. The way I feel right now is my happy place. My neighborhood. My wind. My trains.

Sometimes I feel like no one understands why I love this so much. To see the stars through my window and to feel the breeze on my skin. I feel like these nights are made just for me. It's like the world is saying, "It's all going to be ok, Katie. You will be alright. Promise."

Crest the Hill

Recently, I've started focusing on my weight and habits. I've been on a program for about 5 weeks and I've lost 7 lbs, 3 in from my waist, 2 in from my boobs (unfortunately) and 1 in from my hips. I feel like I'm in control, but not really missing anything. Most of this program is actually paying attention to what you are eating and getting off the couch every now and then. I try not to go out very often, but when I do I take a good hard look at the food. It's about more than just eating what sounds delicious. It's also about what is going to satisfy your body's needs.

Make Me Go All Out

My job search has not been fruitful. I feel like I'm qualified for most grunt work and even some slightly skilled work. I have applied for quite a few jobs, and no bites yet. I'm still optimistic.

I've applied for healthcare, retail and office jobs. I've had retail jobs, a healthcare job and I'm proficient in all Microsoft Office programs. Statistics these days are saying that there are new jobs everyday so I think eventually something will come up.

Here's to searching...

I'm Coming Home

I spent the early evening today cooking a real dinner for my family today. That doesn't happen often. It made me feel really good. Everyone really liked the dinner I made. I made penne pasta with chicken, mushrooms and tomatoes. For dessert I made apple crisp with vanilla ice cream. It wasn't anything crazy, but I think it made a difference. My parents had planned on ordering out, but I think real meals are important. I'm going to try to cook for real more often.

Back and Forth

Today I watched The Notebook. I used to think it was the paramount love story of my generation. I can see why the girls of my age love it. Ryan Gosling is super hot. They reconnect after nearly a decade apart, even though she is engaged to another man. It gives a girl hope that true love will win out, against all odds. If that's not love, what is?

I'll you what love is. Love is when the girl is a rancorous bitch. When she is upset with you, but refuses to tell you why. Instead of walking away in frustration or yelling or blaming her you take her in your arms and tell her you love her. You refuse to leave until you are sure that she is sure you love her.

That, my friends, is love. Happy Valentine's Day.

I Want Some More

Lately, I've become a very domestic person. I work a full time job, and I go to school full time. My boyfriend lives with my family. My free time is largely comprised of homework and Facebook games. AND Fashion Police. I have no idea why, but I am drawn to this half hour block of judgement. A panel of fashion forward individuals study the fashion habits of Hollywood's elites and decide if the celebrity's outfit is good or bad.

The judges are:

1. Joan Rivers - A woman who has made her living interviewing celebrities on red carpets and telling them what she thinks of their outfit (good or bad) to their face while they wear it. She heads Fashion Police and generally has the final say.
2. Giuliana Rancic - Co-host of E! News with Ryan Seacrest. Giuliana is generally quite level headed, but accepts no excuses. If the hair doesn't go with the ensemble, it fails in her eyes.
3. George Kotsiopoulos - The lone male of the group. He loves the extreme fashion forward. Julianne Moore must really appreciate him. He always makes this really apologetic face when he disagrees. Does he fear the women of the panel? We may never know.
4. Last but not least, Kelly Osbourne - Kelly often reminisces about the better style choices that celebrities on the worst dressed list made in the past in a "shame on you" voice. She does, however, defend the hot messes like Helena Bonham Carter. She's my favorite.

My greatest concern is for the secondary members of the Fashion Police. I'm fairly sure they signed a deal with the devil to be on that show. Do you see the fear in their eyes every time they laugh at one of Joan's horrible jokes? I do. If they don't laugh, they die. I'm sure of it.

I put E! on while I do my homework or surf the internet. I'm watching E! right now, as a matter of fact. I have no interest in fashion in general, but I am drawn to this show. I am interested in knowing what gowns a celebrity will wear next, but I have no idea why!

And I know you were wondering so I'll tell you. My best dressed choice for the Golden Globes was Olivia Wilde. Her dress and shoes were too gorgeous for words.

Wake the Sun

I did a search for schools I should transfer to recently. In these searches, they ask for everything from your GPA to the size of school you'd prefer to the religious affiliation you want the school to have. They also ask for preferred state or geographical region, which I left blank.

All of my top Best Fit schools were either in the south or southwest, and Hawaii. The schools really only had general warmth as common denominators. Basically, this life choice generator thinks I need some warmth in my life. I agree. I want to go somewhere warm.

That being said, anywhere warm that I choose will inevitably be far away from my home. Chicago is known for many things, but tropical heat is not one of them. All of this may be so poignant to me because it's absolutley frigid outside right now. Come summer, I'll probably think this is all a bunch of crap.

To Be Held in Shelter

I think I would get along with my family a lot better if we didn't actually live together. The only one I never fight with is my youngest sister. That's saying quite a bit since she's a thirteen year old. They are notoriously explosive. My mother complains that I seclude myself away in my room every night. "Why don't you come out here with us?" she asks. "Sometimes I just want to be alone," I reply. What I'm not telling her is that I honestly don't care to hear them editorialize Law & Order: SVU. I don't want to hear my stepdad make one jackass remark after another about anything anyone says, ever.

So I stay in my room.

Too Tired to Wink

These are all the books I read in 2010 in reverse order:

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Blood Rites by Jim Butcher
Death Masks by Jim Butcher
Summer Knight by Jim Butcher
Grave Peril by Jim Butcher
Fool Moon by Jim Butcher
Storm Front by Jim Butcher
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea by Chelsea Handler
Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins
Lord Sunday by Garth Nix
Nightlight by The Harvard Lampoon
Overqualified by Joey Comeau
Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer
Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer
Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
Bloodhound by Tamora Pierce
Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
Blood Ninja by Nick Lake

Love Affair

I am definitley not where I thought I would be a year ago. It's list time. Things in my life I didn't think I'd have right now last year:

1. A full-time job
2. A live-in boyfriend
3. A smartphone
4. A macbook
5. Contentment
6. Organization
7. A feeling I should change my major
8. Objectivity