Well, the former part is true, at least. Am I lonely? Not…lonely persay. Pensive? A little. Riddled with self-contemplation? Somewhat. Ever-so-slightly shocked at myself? Yes. Yes, I am.
I’m having a girlie moment.
Gasp. Crash. Hiccup.
I know. I knooooooooooooow. I’m seldom outright girlie. The pensive self-contemplation stems primarily from that blatant fact. In many ways, I defy mainstream, pop-culture girl-dom. I hate pink. (Okay, maybe not hate, but I feel it ought to be used in very, very sparing quantities.) Chick flicks are enormously depressing for me. I don’t want to be a princess, unless it’s the warrior kind and I get to rampage about killing monsters and saving the world. Diamonds bore me at best, and I loathe diamond solitaires (this time my adjective is not overstated). I would be mortally offended if my boyfriend spent two months of income on an engagement ring, and only slightly less so if he spent more than a week’s. (He knows these things already.)
My momentary bout of girliness is coming from the mere fact that my relationship is progressing. And it’s filling my head with all sorts of fuzzy shiny happy thoughts. It makes my tummy feel warm and glowy (and NOT in that pregnant way, so don’t even ask). I may have even sighed and made goo-goo eyes at Edward the Elephant in my boyfriend’s absence. *ahem.*
On a more serious note, this feeling is entirely new. Without going into too much detail, no one has ever been committed to me before. Me. I’ve never felt anything like this — the sense that someone truly wants to journey through this life at my side and wants me there at his.
And so I’m being girlie. I’m looking at pretty colors and imagining future moments. I’m listening to the conversations we had over and over in my head and reveling in it.
I feel like I got a belated birthday present/early Christmas present. Because as I’ve tried to wrack my brain for gift ideas for myself (always a precipitous sort of task), I’ve returned only to the simple (if gushy and cliche) sentiment that all I want for Christmas is….well, him.
Before I turn completely into a porcelain dolly with ringlets and ribbons, let me remind you once more:
Warrior. Swords. Zombie-slaying, kicker of dragon asses, vampire-loving, princess of general awesomeness — that’s who you’re listening to here. And don’t you forget it.
Five more school days, my friends. Just five. And the chances that there will actually be any children there are getting slimmer every day. I had six for the final (!!!) today. No joke. Ugh.
Speaking of getting slimmer…I am too! I’ve lost five pounds. I’m ever so proud of myself right now. Amazing what working out and eating well really does. Tonight I ate like a queen and logged in my food on my new bestest site, SparkPeople, and lo and behold — I hadn’t even hit the bottom end of my goals for calories, fat, protein, or carbs. That was a “wtf” moment if I’ve ever had one. So I ate another half cup of cottage cheese and six more of the most delectable strawberries I’ve ever tasted. For real; I have no idea where these bad boys came from. I suspect somewhere on Mount Olympus. They are nectar for the very gods. They taste like they’ve been injected with sugar. But they are just strawberries. Just delicious, fresh, and beautiful strawberries. Swoon. The kiwis are just as good. Thank you, friendly neighborhood Asian market. Not only are your strawberries cheaper than Giant (by $2 for two pounds!!!), but…well. See above, re: god nectar.
Hard to believe I ate so well today. Protein shake, nectarine, then I made pasta. It is a multicolored Abetini pasta, which I tossed with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, sauteed garlic, some oregano, parsley, and basil (dried) and tomatoes, both sun dried and one fresh plum tomato. I topped it with some fresh basil (also thank you, Asian market) and a sprinkle of feta. Amazing. While I ate that, I also had some ratatouille in the oven, which may be my new favorite veggie dish. Just layer thin slices of eggplant, yellow squash, red or orange pepper, and zucchini over tomato sauce, sprinkle with your favorite herbs, brush with olive oil, and bake for an hour on 350. So awesome. And less than 100 calories per serving. I am loving eating healthy, dudes and dudettes. I don’t feel bloated and blah after a big meal, and I am losing weight. Love it. I never realized just how many calories are in the average restaurant meal. No joke, it’s at least 1000. Probably more. Definitely more if you get bottomless soda with it. Yeesh.
Okay, enough about my foodscapades. It is sleepy time! (I’ve been sleeping better too!!!) Happy.
Turns out, it’s actually a bit of a workout. Go figure.
After literally six weeks of laying around on my arse, I decided it was about time to get off it and try to lose some of the weight that made itself known to me as I attempted to pour it into a pair of shorts yesterday. This pair of shorts was a size bigger than what I wore last summer. Needless to say, the swells of flesh that so stubbornly prohibited my arse from fitting into the denim made their point. They’ve made themselves at home, and I think I need to evict them.
Hence the workout.
I have been a bit scarce for the last few days. At least I think I have. Time has gone all wonky. I really think there is some sort of rift in the space-time continuum, but that’s neither here nor there. It is Memorial Day weekend, I suppose, which may excuse any of my scarcity (but would not excuse a rift in the space-time continuum).
I’ma go to the beach! It’s for a whole two days, but still. Beach. Me. Go. Picture me, the whitest white girl in white-onia, slathered in SPF 100 so as to look even whiter, lounging in an olive green bikini, feeling self-conscious whilst squishing my toes in very hot sand and trying to think of ways to get my boyfriend to make out with me under the boardwalk. Yep. That’ll be me tomorrow. And I’m serious about that boardwalk thing. I’ve wanted to do that ever since I heard Bette Midler pound out that song in Beaches. My boyfriend’s plans consist of eating lots of pizza and…sandwiches. (If you are a How I Met Your Mother fan, you will know precisely to what I am referring by the latter.) I have only a few things on my agenda:
1. Play a round of mini-golf.
2. Eat some Dippin’ Dots and see if they are as good as I always hoped they would be as a child — I was never allowed to get them.
3. Make out under the boardwalk.
4. Walk. A lot. Preferably on the beach. This is part of my whole fat eviction scheme.
As you can see, Item 1 has suffered a setback. The setback is that I am broke, and mini-golf is seldom cheap, particularly in a high-frequency, high-tourist area such as Bethany Beach. (Why, yes, gentle viewers! You now know where I will be this weekend.)
I don’t think I will have the money to eat, which is okay because of that whole fat eviction thing. It’s only two days, anyway.
Also, I think I have found a new Emmie home! I hope. Here’s the ad I think it placed looking for renters:
Quirky five bedroom full of awesome seeks young tenants for lounging patio barbecues, sprawling living, and unique closet arrangement. Stuffy and pretentious dwellers caught up in matching color schemes need not apply.
It’s pretty much perfect. Right down to the varying color schemes and oddly placed closets (some aren’t even in the bedrooms). Wish me success!
On that note, I am off to be a nerd and play Fable 2 whilst pondering my story and waiting for the boyo to get off work.
And then Friday!
My fingers are cramped up. If you know me, you know that my right pinky finger is crooked, forever prohibited from straightening by a wonky tendon that decided not to grow. I’ve just spent an hour and a half writing, and that little deformity of mine is in serious pain (I’m right handed). I had an idea last fall, something to do as a gift that never came to fruition. Now I’ve begun, and it really is beautiful so far. It’ll take quite a while to finish at this rate, but I do have a few months left before it needs to be done. The exciting thing about it is that it meshes rather perfectly with both a new development from today and also with another idea I had as well. I would be more specific, but that would be telling.
After being stuck somewhere in the space-time continuum where there were constantly 6 weeks left of school, suddenly we’ve gone through a wormhole and there are only three. Words cannot describe my joy at this. I have a lot to do by the end of the year, and I might get into some trouble because this injury has made me miss so much work, but at this point, I can’t do anything about that. It’s only been six weeks since the accident, and though I am feeling somewhat better now, by the time I’ve gone through half the day, I am a hot mess of ouch.
Well. Three more weeks, and it will be over forever. I just wish I could get rid of this horrible sense of trepidation that has plagued me all year. I never should have taken this job. Teaching is the perfect job for those who can give 110%. I can give that to my writing, but not to teaching. Maybe that’s selfish. I don’t think it really is, though, any more than I would think it is selfish for people not to join the volunteer fire department or become a police officer. Jobs like that require certain kinds of people who are willing to live and breathe their job. I think that most of us have something we’re willing to do that for, but it varies from person to person, and for me, teaching is not that something. Are musicians being selfish for making music? Artists? Accountants? My thoughts about careers: find what you love, and do it well.
That’s all I can ask of anyone. Work is a huge portion of life — if you’re miserable, that just plain sucks. And I’m miserable.
Sigh. Time to try and sleep.
Two more days.
1. Homemade pico de gallo and guacamole.
2. Homemade tortillas.
3. Chicken quesodillas.
4. Peach ice cream.
5. Cherry stout beer.
6. Roast of Bob Saget.
7. Hanging with the boyo.
8. Baltimore aquarium tomorrow afternoon?
9. Awesome Sunday.
Today I watched a movie. My boyfriend and I actually started it last night, but we were both sleepy and — let’s face it — a wee bit drunk, so we stopped. I finished it tonight, and I’m going to attempt to review it here, with some interspersed reflections based on the novel I’m reading by someone in one of my writing groups which has a similar theme.
The movie is called The Puffy Chair. My first assessment? It was remarkably painful to watch. First of all, the female lead’s name is Emily, and she proved in the first 15 minutes that she was exactly the kind of girlfriend I don’t want to be. Next, her boyfriend Josh proved to be the kind of boyfriend I don’t want. And Rhett, the other main character, proved to be the only redeeming person for me, even though in one particular scene (actually two) I sort of wanted to aim an Uzi at his head.
I think the film had several good qualities. It portrayed a somewhat believable relationship between an insecure woman who was looking for a commitment and a self-absorbed, passive-aggressive man who really wasn’t. Neither of them were able to successfully communicate anything without it turning into a snit or an argument, which I’ve seen in many relationships, so that part was believable. I couldn’t figure out if Emily was just really, really fed up with Josh’s indifference or if she was just really high-maintenance and moody, as one reviewer described her. Either way, I was ashamed when I saw myself reflected in her at all, which I’ll admit happened a couple of times, and I really never want to turn into what I saw there.
To her defense, Josh was entirely incapable of discussing anything serious with anyone, let alone his girlfriend, who he calls “dude” throughout the entire movie — a not so subtle insight into the depth of his emotion. When she asks why he loves her, he can’t think of a single reason outside of her sexy bits (literally — he changes the subject by grabbing her hoohah). Granted, her reaction to his silence is a bit melodramatic, but even so, it shows the dysfunction there. Later on when his brother Rhett calls him out on a pretty despicable action he took, he again gets defensive and nasty.
All in all, I found it really hard to sympathize with any of the characters. They were all completely wrapped up in themselves. They wanted what they wanted when they said they wanted it, and if they didn’t get it, the world ended. I’d give it a C. Maybe even a C-.
I don’t really like dwelling on dysfunctional relationships, but I volunteered to read a book penned by a fellow writer in which the protagonist is an adulterer, and I just read the first six chapters of her rationalizing her affair, which depressed me. Especially after watching that movie.
After watching the movie and reading that book, I got the overwhelming urge to be the best girlfriend ever. I also reflected on my own relationship and came to the conclusion that I am intensely fortunate to have found someone like John, and that despite the similarities between our names and that movie’s characters’ names, we are so not them.
I am so happy with him that it sometimes makes me bubble right off the ground. Which is glorious. So in regards to the title of this blog? I’m that first one. I’m not lorn — love, for, or otherwise — and I’m decidedly not a puffy chair. I’m loved by an extraordinary man.
Take that, cynical world.
It’s less than two months away now, and I’m really getting more and more excited. For one thing, a conglomerate of my lovely European friends is getting together to descend upon Edinburgh purely for the pleasure of my company while I’m on their side of the Atlantic. For that I am grateful to the point of delirium — never before have I had such friends who would hop a plane and come see me like that. I hope I’m that kind of friend. I did jet to New York City when Karsten and Daniel flew over from Germany for New Years a couple years ago, which at the time was nearly across the entire US of A.
I’m lucky to have people like that scattered across the planet. Makes me feel special. 🙂
This is going to be a busy summer, but I hope it will be a good one. I think it will.
In other news, tonight I engaged in an epic battle lasting two hours and several rounds: Emmie vs. Phone. After many hair-pulling moments, almost tears and recriminations, I emerged victorious. This came about because of a bit of a mishap that befell my old phone last Friday, in which it sustained significant injuries that couldn’t simply be tended to with a trip to the corner between bells — no, this involved the necessity of complete renewal. Replacement. The old phone was down for the count.
However, it didn’t surrender without a fight. Determined to take with it all 167 of my personal contacts, it fought tooth and nail as I wrestled with the Backup Assistant that was supposed to be on my side. Little tramp.
Instead of sneaking into the old phone like a veritable Trojan Horse to unbar the way to my contact list, it instead shrieked at me, “INVALID PIN! YOU HAVE ENTERED AN INVALID PIN!” which I had most certainly not.
My pin was valid.
Imagine my fury. I called in the Big Guns. The Big Guns goes by the name of Ben, from Verizon. With his help, we had the old phone and the traitorous Backup Assistant on the ropes in no time at all — and we even managed to suitably cow the new phone, just to ensure it doesn’t get any ideas from its predecessor.
Yes. A victorious day. A glorious day.
Emmie vs. Phone: Emmie Stands Triumphant.
and may dawns, yet again.
the celts revered balance, transformation, in-between states. samhain, known to most of the 21st century folk as halloween or all hallow’s eve, is the transformation from summer’s bounty to the dormant earth of winter, a time when the dead are near and the veil between worlds thins. its mirror, beltane, celebrates the dawning of spring and the renewal of life in the earth. the symbols of beltane are fire, sensuality, flowers, colorful ribbons, youth, and a maypole. the renewal of life requires acknowledgment and celebration of sexuality — the tradition of the maypole is an unveiled symbol of this union. a sapling (being a phallic object) was brought forth from the forest and then placed into a hole in the earth, which, aside from that overtly feminine image, also carries the sense of the earth as a bringer of life. the youth would then dance around this symbol with colored ribbons to celebrate the dawning of new life as seasons turn again.
beltane has often been known as a celebration of sexuality; in fact, the old tradition of gathering wildflowers on may’s eve was known for turning into an unbridled time of sex, which in my opinion is a celebration of life in and of itself. sex is a sacred thing, a holy thing. something to be enjoyed and celebrated. and what better time for it than spring?
i’ve always been drawn to celtic spirituality, perhaps because of the sheer practicality of the symbolism and the simple beauty of celebrating and acknowledging the seasons of life and death and the harmony that exists there. the celts were a people full of vitality and reverence for pleasure and life, as well as respectful of the natural passing of death.
this beltane, i’m watching for new life and celebrating my own. it is a season of renewal, of cleansing fire, and the joy of bounty. it is a time of love and growth.
this beltane, i’m watching as the sky begins to lighten and thinking about the power of creating life. i’ve been noticing babies lately; my sister is also pregnant with her 6th child. i was talking about babies and pregnancy enough that my boyfriend asked me if i was pregnant (i’m not). i’m not ready to have children, but lately i’ve been dwelling on the marvel of creating new life. i’ve been struck by the honest truth that in my body, there are bits of me that will someday result in my children. in a way, i already have them in me — the potential is there. i find myself thinking about them, wondering who they will be. wondering if they’ll know me when i first look into their eyes. knowing that they will be perfect. there is an inherent beauty in the simplicity of this…new life. all the complexities of existence and the trials and heartaches of living go hushed when i think how simple it is, how wondrous a thing it is that one cell can meet one other cell and cause life to blossom. what an amazing thing.
right now my skin is clean and soft, scrubbed with salts and mint and rosemary oils. birds sing outside my window, and there is warmth on the breeze. i’m ready to celebrate life today.
joyous beltane, everyone.
holidays. high holy days. whatever that happens to mean to you.
sorry i’ve been absent. i’ve been busy being in love.
yes, i meant to write that. it happens, i suppose. love is an easy thing to be caught up in. especially when you never expected to find it for real or be allowed to touch it. it all started a year and a half ago. to make a long story a wee bit shorter, i (and he) knew from the beginning where we should go when we met. but we couldn’t then, and we couldn’t for a very long time. i couldn’t help waiting though. i had to know what would happen.
so for the past six months, we’ve been finding out the “what next” after we got our chance. and for the past two months, we’ve been together, in the official sense of things.
i never thought i’d have this chance again…and i certainly didn’t expect to ever find love that wasn’t the unrequited variety. and yet. here i am. how lovely and odd.
needless to say, i’m really very happy. i wrote something a couple posts back about how it’s one thing to be tolerated and something else entirely to be enjoyed. appreciated. i’ve never had a relationship where my quirks and idiosyncrasies were valued rather than merely put up with. and it’s not as if we’re in the realm of rose colored glasses — this is also new territory for me because we’ve known each other for a year and a half. and i’m finding that i simply enjoy him.
i’m finding that after a year and a half of wondering, hoping, waiting, nail-biting, pacing, laughing, soaring, head-scratching — i’m finding that after all that, his cogs and my cogs fit together still and simply turn. clockwork.
when i’m with him, i’m more me than i’ve ever been able to be with anyone. no pretentiousness or hiding. and he’s who he is. and that’s what i love about us. that we’re two whole people building something more.
i was talking to a friend today who is also very happily ensconced in love. we decided that there are few better feelings than falling for a good, good man. especially when there have been so many bad ones before.
so this holiday season i am celebrating life. i’m celebrating the changes that have brought me to dc and teaching my children to the best of my ability. celebrating love and good friends and the changing of the seasons. being grateful for what i have and the ability to share. wishing i could do more for this world.
2009 is winding to a close. when it began, i looked it in the face and said, “you’re going to be a fantastic year to put 2008 to shame.” i wasn’t wrong. i’ve found so many things this year. a place in this country i can call home, which i never thought would happen. a job i can do well that makes a difference. one of my students called me on thanksgiving to say hello — made my night. said job also gives me approximately 3 months per year of time i can write and pursue those things close to my heart. by the end of this i will be financially stable for the first time ever. i’ve found love, in more ways than one. i may be busy and stressed, but i’m building a good life for myself here. and i cannot wait to see where it goes.
happy holidays, whatever you celebrate.
may your days this winter be full of warmth, joy, and peace.
i’ve just realized that i am absurdly excited about life right now. i have a veritable smorgasbord of glory to look forward to — so of course, i decided to blog about it. like ya do.
beyond simply being excited to get the hell out of class tonight (five hour lectures suck my arse), there is a lot in the future that’s gonna rock.
first of all, this weekend. my friend mallory is coming to visit from denver — i haven’t seen her in well over a year, and i am so stoked to hang with her here in the great state of maryland. (silver spring, represent) so that’s gonna be sweet.
next weekend, albannach is comin back to the renn faire, and that’s just effing awesome. especially because i was sick as a dog when they were here a week and a half ago, and i barely remember their set at all. and i convinced the beautiful hannah to come with me so we can wear sexy corsets and show off our boobage, which, ya know. is awesome. and if i see the guy who said he’d give me penis to mouth, i’ll just grab a claymore and lob it off. save him the trouble of trying to get it bitten.
next weekend after that, a couple friends may be coming into town (i am trying to bribe them), which would RULE…because the reason i’m trying to bribe them to come that particular weekend is cos my boyfriend’s band is gonna be playing a sold out show with far at dc9. (yep, i said boyfriend — more on that later) so if the dudes come from toledo, life’ll just freaking kick ass.
the weekend after that is halloween. and there is no explanation needed for why that’s exciting.
the weekend after that, the fourth kind comes out, and i plan to go get the bejeezus scared out of me with my boyfriend. so awesome.
then born empty’s comin to dc and also releasing their new album, the oddyssey chaoti-pop oddity.
then it’s my birthday, which i have decided will NOT suck this year.
and after my birthday comes another awesome holiday…goin to toledo for thanksgiving with le boyfriend, and that’s just going to be amazing. so basically, the next two months are going to just kick some serious ass. and tfa said i’d be in an emotional freefall. psh.
sooo…back to the boyfriend thing. basically, it’s a real long story. if you know me, you probably know parts of it, but here’s the super-speedy nutshell version: i met him in my living room in nashville, which also happened to be his living room. we lived in the same house for three days, then he moved back to toledo…and i stayed in nashville. we clicked. four months later, i spent an amazing halloween with him in ohio. three weeks later, i saw him at thanksgiving. a month after that, we talked it all out. we both ended up in dc…and now here we are. that really doesn’t do it justice….not hardly. but the point is that after a long 16 months of wondering if we’d ever get our chance, we finally decided to take the leap. he is, quite frankly, an amazing human being. and i’m pretty much the luckiest woman in the world.
i have an awful lot going for me right now. i’m gonna savor it, bask in it, and roll around in it. so there. 🙂