The end of the year always brings with it many feelings. Bittersweet emotions, memories of days gone by that seemed to have happened just minutes ago, and the dreaded questions of "what if?" or "I wonder if I should have done ____ differently?". Of course, there is also a sense of relief. The calendar and clocks see the ticking of the minutes from 11:59pm on December 31st to 12:00 midnight, January 1st no differently than any other transition they make. Just another day, another frame of time that has passed. For us, however, we allow ourselves the chance to change and make new. With a new year we identify a time of monumental goal setting, massive rearranging and emotional restructuring. While all of the things we promise ourselves and others to accomplish in the "New Year" could happen at any point in time, it is this magical frame of mind we put ourselves in once the ball drops that sets our bodies and minds into motion and we give ourselves permission to drastically (attempt) the correction of the imperfections we have noticed all year long.
I'm no different than the masses, either. I found myself wishing away the holiday season (sorry, Jesus, it's nothing personal against You), and craving the beginning of 2012. Don't get me wrong, 2011 has been kind to me. I had an amazing year at Lenoir-Rhyne that wasn't without its headache, I was engaged (shortly) to the love of my life and married him (quickly) a few months later, and I reconnected with family that had long since been on the back burner of my life. I grew closer to my best friend, reconnected to old friends, mended bridges that needed repair and burned the ones that were leading to no where. So many bumps were in the road for me personally; the passing of my beloved pug, my aunt and most recently my grandfather were at the top of the list of trials. Having Ethan leave for UNCC in the fall, being apart from him and then learning of his deployment surely sent me on an emotional roller coaster that has still yet to stop. I've not managed my weight well, which was a goal of mine for this past year and there are other areas of my life that aren't as de-cluttered as I would have hoped to have had them by now. But just as quickly as 2011 arrived after 2010, 2012 is just around the corner and with it comes that "fresh start" that society has created. I am so going to take advantage of it, too. I'm giving myself that amusing permission I could have granted myself all year long, and I'm vowing to make many changes. Some of them I know before I start, I'll forget in just a few weeks. Others, though, I am truly excited to integrate into myself and my husband.
Here's a compiled list of my goals for the New Year, some of them feasible and others I may only make a small dent in accomplishing. All of them should keep me busy!
1. My first resolution is traditional, over done and rarely accomplished so I'll say it first and get it out of the way: eat better, get fit and lose weight. I know, I know... so many say they'll do it but I really, really want to. I've struggled for a long time and I'm so ready to make this happen.
2. Get to church weekly! ...okay at least more often than I've been going. This year, I grew much closer to God and solidified my salvation. I weaved in and out of church but I really want to start going more and reconnect with St.Paul Lutheran Church in Startown.
3. Heart Organizing More! I think anyone who does their selves a favor and visits Jen's blog over at iHeartOrganizing leaves with many a feelings that include, but are not limited to: inspiration, excitement, a little doubt and a slight bit of self loathing... Why couldn't WE be that awesome and imaginative?! All the same, the girl has it going ON and I can't wait to organize, de-clutter, and better manage my life as well as mine and my husband's time and finances.
4. Become a Chef! ...actually, I just want to be able to cook things from scratch occasionally, make things out of a box sometimes, and microwave our dinner on other nights, too. I'm not bad cook but I'm no Betty Crocker. Ethan comes from a family of women who know how to cook well and make marvelous things out of nothing at all. My grandmother loved to cook but when she was alive, I was too young to appreciate the wisdom she could have passed on to me. My mom isn't a lover of the kitchen, so I'm determined to change things up for us both. It's totally time to start trying cool recipes and maybe even make a few of my own!
5. Blog Blog Blog. I love my blog. But it is so weird. Sometimes I rant, other times I post long, meaningful posts, and there's everything else in between. For 2012, I want to create a wonderful space to write and recollect my first year of marriage, among my many other firsts (deployment, year after graduation, etc). I need to update the layout, get a catchy new title & devote more time to writing on a schedule. I also need to do much better about pictures and video, which leads me to my next goal for 2012.
6. Capture My Life! I need to first purchase an awesome camera, but even before that, I intend to document more things photographically as well as through video. I'd love to set a goal of vloging once a month, and also updating my blog with more pictures throughout the year. Not just virtually, though. I want to make photo books, and perhaps dabble a bit in scrapbooking. While it can get expensive, those memories are so worth every penny. You can't take it with you!
7. $ave lot$ of Money! We are by no means a wealthy young married couple, but we're also pretty lucky. I work, Ethan works, Ethan is in the National Guard and we have a lot less debt combined than most young college students accumulate. While we're going to be working to pay off our -mostly my- debt during 2012, I also plan to save lots of money and cut corners wherever I can. As a wife, I think part of my responsibility to my husband is to help provide for as much as I can without losing sight of the fact that my husband is the head of the marriage, just as Christ is the head of the church. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, because I understand that it is an equal partnership that requires just as much work from me as it does him. I am not submitting to his every desire or making him sandwiches when he demands, but I am working to please him just as he works to please me. Together, I pray, that we can become financially secure during 2012 and into 2013 when he comes home.
8. Get my read on. I love books. I love them, love them, LOVE them times infinity. Sad to say, I've maybe read one book since seventh grade. I know, crazy, right? But school has me reading lots of things for no fun and then you throw the internet in my face and all my free time for reading just seems to disappear. But I want to reclaim it and enjoy it and truly reconnect to my favorite past-time. I was given several books for Christmas that I can't wait to read and I look forward to getting new ones. I'm thinking about getting a kindle or a nook, so we'll see how this goes!
9. Be An Awesome Army Wife. It still hasn't sunk in completely that I'm a wife, let alone the wife to an amazing soldier. While his deployment is something I'm dreading, I'm looking forward to taking advantage of my time at home to be better for him and Him. I'm looking forward to sending only the absolute best care packages, writing sweet letters, embracing short phone calls and counting down to r&r and homecoming. I'm already planning video updates, photo-shoots, and other nifty ideas to pass both my time and his. No one looks forward to a deployment, especially in the midst of such an awful conflict, but it is coming. And instead of being in denial, I will take it by the horns and make the most out of such a terrible situation. Look out, deployment, here we come!
10. Keep Making Goals. There are so many other things I want to list. In fact, number 10 was going to be, "be more crafty!" until I realized I could go on and on and on. So my tenth goal is to keep on keepin' on. Everytime I think of something I want to accomplish - like right now, I decided I want to learn to knit - I need to write it down here and remind myself that I have another goal! It's time to make things happen and get the ball rolling.
2012 is going bring me so much STUFF. It's going to bring me a graduation, a (prayerfully) new job, a deployment, a first full year of marriage, birthdays & holidays without my husband and I'm sure a million surprises along the way. And it will also bring me another year of Christ. I can't forget what happened two thousand and eleven years ago; what happened that marks the turning of each year.
"I believe in God,
the Father almighty,
Creator of heaven and earth,
and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,
who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, died and was buried;
he descended into hell;
on the third day he rose again from the dead;
he ascended into heaven,
and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty;
from there he will come to judge the living and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
the holy catholic Church,
the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and life everlasting. Amen."
Cheers to a blessed New Year, I'll see you on the flip side.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Pictures of the Big Little Day
As promised, here are some pictures of our big, little day.
I'm pretty sure I was saying my vows to Ethan here:
The first kiss:
With my sisters:
Ethan's Dad's side of the family:
With our moms and Gina's husband, Kyle:
I'm pretty sure I was saying my vows to Ethan here:
The first kiss:
With my sisters:
Ethan's Dad's side of the family:
With our moms and Gina's husband, Kyle:
Monday, December 19, 2011
Keep Calm & Elope: Our Story
The first weekend of December, Ethan had drill with his new unit in Laurinburg for the first time. When he got there, he was told he would be given his drill dates and the date that he would be leaving for his deployment. Anxiously, I waited to hear the news. Would he be leaving at the beginning of July? Maybe the end? Could it possibly have been pushed back to August? I was so eager to find out what our plans were. He called me on a Saturday morning and told me that he had news but that it wasn't very good. Momentarily, I told him I didn't want to know. I wanted to pretend like if he didn't tell me, my plans could stay the same somehow. But a few moments later, I asked what he knew and discovered that he would be leaving much earlier than expected... May 5th, 2012.
I started to cry. He felt helpless. A million thoughts ran through my mind: No time for wedding plan, he's going to miss my graduation, May is almost here, is there any way to get out of this?, what do we do?, I wonder what's going to happen next... so many thoughts, so many fears becoming reality in such a short time. He told me that he had his drill dates but that they weren't stable, and that he would be going to at least two schools, a week each, before he left on May 5th and that he wouldn't know those dates until January. I got off the phone and started looking through my calendar, trying to find a date for us to have our wedding. We both wanted to be married before he left, and I was determined. Frustrated, I posted a status on Facebook as a joke.
I was kidding, at first. And then the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was perfect. I called E, told him what I thought we should do and surprisingly, he agreed that it was a good idea. I spent the next few days researching, figuring out how much it would cost, where the money could come from, where we would go to to do it... I was on cloud nine. I found a minister in Asheville who would preform the elopement ceremony and a cabin in the mountains to stay in for a week. And then E said that he would feel more comfortable if someone we knew preformed the ceremony, not someone random. We made a call to his former Youth Pastor, and set an appointment. After that, we went to Charlotte and picked out our wedding bands.
I was adamant that while I wanted to be married, I didn't want this to be my wedding. This was an alternative to the Justice of the Peace, not a wedding, and we would still have a ceremony and reception when E came home. We told selective family members and a few friends of our plans, and while a few were upset that we didn't invite many people, most were extremely supportive. Our moms would be there, Ethan's grandmothers, our sisters and E's dad. It would be small, short and to the point.
Monday, December 12, we met with Andrew Rawls and he agreed to do the ceremony as long as we committed to marriage counseling prior to Ethan's deployment. It was starting to get so real. We set the date. December 17th. The next day, we went to Charlotte and picked up our bands, and I found a white dress at David's Bridal that would be perfect for a small marriage ceremony. Not a wedding, a ceremony.
During this week, there has also been a down side. My grandfather was admitted to the hospital and we thought it was routine. Never a man that I was extremely close to, I'm ashamed to say that it had probably been a year since I had seen him. My older sister and I were going to see him in the beginning of the week but for one reason or another, we didn't make it. Wednesday morning, we got the call that if we wanted to see him, we needed to go now. He wasn't going to make it. I got to the hospital and my sister and I went in the room to see him. We weren't expecting to find him in the state he was in. Skeletal, weak, on life support and not responding, I knew things weren't looking good. I asked my dad if anyone had called my grandfather's brother, and he said no. I was outraged. His own brother didn't know he was dying. After getting permission from my dad, I drove to Burl's house and gave him the news. He was devastated. On my way back to my car, my sister called. They were taking him off life support and were waiting for me to get there.
I got to the hospital and they asked me if I wanted to tell him goodbye. Could he hear me? Did he know what I was saying? I didn't know. I went to his room and it was just the two of us. I apologized to him for not being a better granddaughter, for not going to see him. I told him how I loved him, how my Mamaw Dot would be so proud of who he was. I prayed over him. I asked God's spirit to fill his room, to fill his body and to consume him. I prayed for wisdom for the doctors and strength for my father. I rambled, perhaps. I didn't want to leave... but I did. A few minutes later they took him off life support and he wasn't supposed to last minutes, maybe an hour. And then, the days passed.
Wednesday came and Thursday came and he still hung on. I called into work, cancelled all other plans and stayed by his bedside. Going home a few times during the day and sometimes at night, I was back the next day.Thursday night, my sister and I stayed with him. We were afraid he wouldn't make it through the night and didn't want him to be alone. That night, we talked to the nurse because we were confused. By this time, Hospice had come in and we didn't understand why, if he was still alive, he wasn't being given nutrients or hydration. We had been told his kidney's were shutting down and that he was dying, yet, he was still here. The nurse said that it would only be prolonging the inevitable, maybe making it worse. We were not satisfied, but understood.
Friday came, there were still no answers. Ethan and I decided it wasn't best to go to Asheville for a honeymoon but we were still going to be married Saturday. And married, we were.
It wasn't an ideal situation, please don't get me wrong. But it was perfect. I was in denial that I was getting married until it happened. Our family gathered in the sanctuary of East Maiden Baptist Church and we talked for a bit before Ethan asked everyone to sit down. We stood in front of them, my little sister by my side as our only attendant holding our rings perfectly, making faces at E the whole time. And then I realized how much I loved what was happening. There were no fancy dresses, no flowers, no string quartet... and it was just what I needed. I needed a husband. I needed Ethan and he needed me. And each other is what we got. It lasted ten minutes, when it was over, I was in disbelief. I looked down at my hand and found a wedding band. Yesterday, we were high school sweethearts calling each other a few times a week. We were at a band competition and I was sending him airgrams right before he competed. We were going to the movies. We were graduating high school. We were crying before basic training. And today, we made a commitment to be married for the rest of our lives. It was a beautiful, spiritual and unforgettable moment.
For the most part, our families were supportive. There were many hurt feelings that we decided to limit our guests to only immediate family, but in the end, we had to do what was right for us. And this was so, so right. I don't think I would trade a thing if I could back and do it again, because my end result would have been the same. A beautiful marriage, blessed by God and ordained by one of His.
As for my grandfather, he's still holding on. A week ago today he was taken off of the ventilator and we were told he only had minutes to live before he would pass away. A solid seven days and the doctors are in disbelief. They used the term, "bewildered" as to their state of mind. Days with no food and barely any water and his heart is still beating. Two days ago they started him on more liquids after questioning the ethics behind "making him comfortable" and assuming that he needed a lot of morphine. He shook his head and answered two questions after a few hours and we are truly blessed that he is still with us. No, he might not recover and this may be only a prolonging of the inevitable, but God is not ready for him to go.
It has truly been a bittersweet week, filled with ups and downs and bumps and twists. But it's life. And no longer do I have to experience life alone; I have my husband. What more do I really need?
Pictures of the big (small) day will be here soon! :)
I started to cry. He felt helpless. A million thoughts ran through my mind: No time for wedding plan, he's going to miss my graduation, May is almost here, is there any way to get out of this?, what do we do?, I wonder what's going to happen next... so many thoughts, so many fears becoming reality in such a short time. He told me that he had his drill dates but that they weren't stable, and that he would be going to at least two schools, a week each, before he left on May 5th and that he wouldn't know those dates until January. I got off the phone and started looking through my calendar, trying to find a date for us to have our wedding. We both wanted to be married before he left, and I was determined. Frustrated, I posted a status on Facebook as a joke.
I was kidding, at first. And then the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was perfect. I called E, told him what I thought we should do and surprisingly, he agreed that it was a good idea. I spent the next few days researching, figuring out how much it would cost, where the money could come from, where we would go to to do it... I was on cloud nine. I found a minister in Asheville who would preform the elopement ceremony and a cabin in the mountains to stay in for a week. And then E said that he would feel more comfortable if someone we knew preformed the ceremony, not someone random. We made a call to his former Youth Pastor, and set an appointment. After that, we went to Charlotte and picked out our wedding bands.
I was adamant that while I wanted to be married, I didn't want this to be my wedding. This was an alternative to the Justice of the Peace, not a wedding, and we would still have a ceremony and reception when E came home. We told selective family members and a few friends of our plans, and while a few were upset that we didn't invite many people, most were extremely supportive. Our moms would be there, Ethan's grandmothers, our sisters and E's dad. It would be small, short and to the point.
Monday, December 12, we met with Andrew Rawls and he agreed to do the ceremony as long as we committed to marriage counseling prior to Ethan's deployment. It was starting to get so real. We set the date. December 17th. The next day, we went to Charlotte and picked up our bands, and I found a white dress at David's Bridal that would be perfect for a small marriage ceremony. Not a wedding, a ceremony.
During this week, there has also been a down side. My grandfather was admitted to the hospital and we thought it was routine. Never a man that I was extremely close to, I'm ashamed to say that it had probably been a year since I had seen him. My older sister and I were going to see him in the beginning of the week but for one reason or another, we didn't make it. Wednesday morning, we got the call that if we wanted to see him, we needed to go now. He wasn't going to make it. I got to the hospital and my sister and I went in the room to see him. We weren't expecting to find him in the state he was in. Skeletal, weak, on life support and not responding, I knew things weren't looking good. I asked my dad if anyone had called my grandfather's brother, and he said no. I was outraged. His own brother didn't know he was dying. After getting permission from my dad, I drove to Burl's house and gave him the news. He was devastated. On my way back to my car, my sister called. They were taking him off life support and were waiting for me to get there.
I got to the hospital and they asked me if I wanted to tell him goodbye. Could he hear me? Did he know what I was saying? I didn't know. I went to his room and it was just the two of us. I apologized to him for not being a better granddaughter, for not going to see him. I told him how I loved him, how my Mamaw Dot would be so proud of who he was. I prayed over him. I asked God's spirit to fill his room, to fill his body and to consume him. I prayed for wisdom for the doctors and strength for my father. I rambled, perhaps. I didn't want to leave... but I did. A few minutes later they took him off life support and he wasn't supposed to last minutes, maybe an hour. And then, the days passed.
Wednesday came and Thursday came and he still hung on. I called into work, cancelled all other plans and stayed by his bedside. Going home a few times during the day and sometimes at night, I was back the next day.Thursday night, my sister and I stayed with him. We were afraid he wouldn't make it through the night and didn't want him to be alone. That night, we talked to the nurse because we were confused. By this time, Hospice had come in and we didn't understand why, if he was still alive, he wasn't being given nutrients or hydration. We had been told his kidney's were shutting down and that he was dying, yet, he was still here. The nurse said that it would only be prolonging the inevitable, maybe making it worse. We were not satisfied, but understood.
Friday came, there were still no answers. Ethan and I decided it wasn't best to go to Asheville for a honeymoon but we were still going to be married Saturday. And married, we were.
It wasn't an ideal situation, please don't get me wrong. But it was perfect. I was in denial that I was getting married until it happened. Our family gathered in the sanctuary of East Maiden Baptist Church and we talked for a bit before Ethan asked everyone to sit down. We stood in front of them, my little sister by my side as our only attendant holding our rings perfectly, making faces at E the whole time. And then I realized how much I loved what was happening. There were no fancy dresses, no flowers, no string quartet... and it was just what I needed. I needed a husband. I needed Ethan and he needed me. And each other is what we got. It lasted ten minutes, when it was over, I was in disbelief. I looked down at my hand and found a wedding band. Yesterday, we were high school sweethearts calling each other a few times a week. We were at a band competition and I was sending him airgrams right before he competed. We were going to the movies. We were graduating high school. We were crying before basic training. And today, we made a commitment to be married for the rest of our lives. It was a beautiful, spiritual and unforgettable moment.
For the most part, our families were supportive. There were many hurt feelings that we decided to limit our guests to only immediate family, but in the end, we had to do what was right for us. And this was so, so right. I don't think I would trade a thing if I could back and do it again, because my end result would have been the same. A beautiful marriage, blessed by God and ordained by one of His.
As for my grandfather, he's still holding on. A week ago today he was taken off of the ventilator and we were told he only had minutes to live before he would pass away. A solid seven days and the doctors are in disbelief. They used the term, "bewildered" as to their state of mind. Days with no food and barely any water and his heart is still beating. Two days ago they started him on more liquids after questioning the ethics behind "making him comfortable" and assuming that he needed a lot of morphine. He shook his head and answered two questions after a few hours and we are truly blessed that he is still with us. No, he might not recover and this may be only a prolonging of the inevitable, but God is not ready for him to go.
It has truly been a bittersweet week, filled with ups and downs and bumps and twists. But it's life. And no longer do I have to experience life alone; I have my husband. What more do I really need?
Pictures of the big (small) day will be here soon! :)
Sunday, December 11, 2011
...the11th? Already?
I'm ashamed that it's December 11th and I've just now made time to write for the first time this month. Here's a big shocker: I should be working on - or rather, starting- a final project for my feature writing class that's due tomorrow morning. Instead, I find myself eager and determined to crank out a December blog post. Sometimes, I have such little motivation to write. Does anyone read this thing anymore? Maybe they do. And then I remind myself of my sweet child(ren) who may read this one day. I remind myself that I, too, want to look back and remember who I was and that I've made a promise to not-yet-to-be concieved gifts from God that I will document myself for their beneift.
December is always a crazy month. For the past ten days I have been writing massive papers, studying for final exams and balancing an abnormal social life with a few friends and E. Between wedding planning, emotional breakdowns, tantruns, triumphs, naps, sickness, working & day dreaming, well, there has been little room for much else. I can remember back when October arrived and I was thirlled and saddned...I knew that when I blinked my eyes, Christmas would be here and the magic of my favorite months would be gone. And here I sit, December the 11th, and the time has flown by.
Last night, we had a small get together with friends and family for the holidays. Joyous but tiring! Today, we went to Christopher's birthday party and the Shaw's Christmas dinner before I came home to "work". I forgot how tiring the holiday's can be... just three weeks ago I put my tree up in my room and I've barely had time to enjoy it. I moved it in our living room last night so I could see it more and so mom could see it. I like it better in my room but at least out there it isn't being neglected.
I have so much to say in this that I can't yet. I'm not a good secret keeper. I'm down right awful with keeping my mouth shut. But in good time I will write a post that will make up for this slightly awful one... all in good time.
December is always a crazy month. For the past ten days I have been writing massive papers, studying for final exams and balancing an abnormal social life with a few friends and E. Between wedding planning, emotional breakdowns, tantruns, triumphs, naps, sickness, working & day dreaming, well, there has been little room for much else. I can remember back when October arrived and I was thirlled and saddned...I knew that when I blinked my eyes, Christmas would be here and the magic of my favorite months would be gone. And here I sit, December the 11th, and the time has flown by.
Last night, we had a small get together with friends and family for the holidays. Joyous but tiring! Today, we went to Christopher's birthday party and the Shaw's Christmas dinner before I came home to "work". I forgot how tiring the holiday's can be... just three weeks ago I put my tree up in my room and I've barely had time to enjoy it. I moved it in our living room last night so I could see it more and so mom could see it. I like it better in my room but at least out there it isn't being neglected.
I have so much to say in this that I can't yet. I'm not a good secret keeper. I'm down right awful with keeping my mouth shut. But in good time I will write a post that will make up for this slightly awful one... all in good time.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Where There Is A Will...
It's three in the afternoon on a Tuesday that is probably, along with tomorrow, going to be one of the busiest days of the semester. I have so much to do, so many things to write and prepare before turning in. Then there are tests to study for, exams to take and then a final drive home from L-R where I'll try to enjoy as much of my Christmas break as I can. This break will be so bittersweet for me. I know that I can only allow myself to be consumed with worry and anxiety for so long, but I can't help but remember that E won't be home for Christmas next year, unless he manages to come home on R&R which is highly unlikely because no doubt there will be soldiers with children who will come home during that time, if it's possible. It's hard because I know that I will want to enjoy every second with him, and yet, every second spent will be a second that has passed, all leading up to the second he will board a plane to the Middle East. I don't want to become clingy or distant, too needy or too independent. I've got to learn how to be the best better half than I can be during times like these. There has to be a better way of dealing with it than what I'm doing now.
I did decide that over the next few months, I'm going to start keeping a list of things that I want to do or get accomplished while E is gone. Not that I couldn't get anything done while he's home, but I think it would help pass the time if I gave myself goals to accomplish to keep me busy. I've read on different forums that time passes slowly, but also fast because duties of being a wife or mother take a front seat. Both fortunately and unfortunately, I won't have many domestic things to take care of since we won't have our own place in the beginning of our marriage and I have no children to tend to. So, that leaves me with plenty of time to get whatever I want to get done, done. I've considered having a weekly project, or maybe a monthly goal. Something to work towards. After graduation there are so many things I never gave myself the time do to... books I've wanted to read, systems I've wanted to organize.
Hopefully I'll be able to work full time while he's away, and save as much of our money as I can. E wants me to go ahead and move into our apartment a few months before he comes home so I'm sure as soon as I start that process I'll be plenty busy as well. Staying alone for those few months before he comes back might be the hardest, but I'm already excited for the day that he gets to come home for the first time. And not just home as in Catawba County, but our home. The home that I will prepare for us while he is getting job done. It makes me so proud when I think of it that way... of how he's making so many sacrifices for us, for everyone. I've never been so consumed with so many dominant emotions as I am when I think about these next two years.
I've also read that it's much easier to count down weeks instead of days until they come home. Fifty-two weeks is much easier on the heart to count down from than 365. So I get to make a fancy countdown calendar once I get official dates, which probably won't be until this time next year. Either way. I have to have something to look forward to.
E finally seems to be getting excited about the wedding and I have to admit, amidst so many negative aspects of what's going on, there are a lot of positives. I finally realized that, while this does mean I have to rush the wedding up a bit, I also get to be a bride sooner. There are so many fun things I can look forward to now for the spring... wedding showers, bridal showers, engagement photos, bridal photos, the rehearsal, the actual ceremony... my honeymoon! Not to mention my graduation that I've worked my ass off for. There are bright spots, yes. They're there! I know they are. I just wouldn't have wished for them to be so smooshed together. I wouldn't wish to have to set a new date, formulate a new plan and make it work. But then again, would it really be traditional Olivia style to do things in an orderly fashion? Not exactly. And if I were really concerned about time crunches, I wouldn't be writing this blog post instead of working on the two research papers, presentation, feature writing project, resume project, org comm exam study guide, media law exam study guide or the research methods literature review. No, obviously I have no real concern over time.
And that's probably how God knew that I could handle this.
I did decide that over the next few months, I'm going to start keeping a list of things that I want to do or get accomplished while E is gone. Not that I couldn't get anything done while he's home, but I think it would help pass the time if I gave myself goals to accomplish to keep me busy. I've read on different forums that time passes slowly, but also fast because duties of being a wife or mother take a front seat. Both fortunately and unfortunately, I won't have many domestic things to take care of since we won't have our own place in the beginning of our marriage and I have no children to tend to. So, that leaves me with plenty of time to get whatever I want to get done, done. I've considered having a weekly project, or maybe a monthly goal. Something to work towards. After graduation there are so many things I never gave myself the time do to... books I've wanted to read, systems I've wanted to organize.
Hopefully I'll be able to work full time while he's away, and save as much of our money as I can. E wants me to go ahead and move into our apartment a few months before he comes home so I'm sure as soon as I start that process I'll be plenty busy as well. Staying alone for those few months before he comes back might be the hardest, but I'm already excited for the day that he gets to come home for the first time. And not just home as in Catawba County, but our home. The home that I will prepare for us while he is getting job done. It makes me so proud when I think of it that way... of how he's making so many sacrifices for us, for everyone. I've never been so consumed with so many dominant emotions as I am when I think about these next two years.
I've also read that it's much easier to count down weeks instead of days until they come home. Fifty-two weeks is much easier on the heart to count down from than 365. So I get to make a fancy countdown calendar once I get official dates, which probably won't be until this time next year. Either way. I have to have something to look forward to.
E finally seems to be getting excited about the wedding and I have to admit, amidst so many negative aspects of what's going on, there are a lot of positives. I finally realized that, while this does mean I have to rush the wedding up a bit, I also get to be a bride sooner. There are so many fun things I can look forward to now for the spring... wedding showers, bridal showers, engagement photos, bridal photos, the rehearsal, the actual ceremony... my honeymoon! Not to mention my graduation that I've worked my ass off for. There are bright spots, yes. They're there! I know they are. I just wouldn't have wished for them to be so smooshed together. I wouldn't wish to have to set a new date, formulate a new plan and make it work. But then again, would it really be traditional Olivia style to do things in an orderly fashion? Not exactly. And if I were really concerned about time crunches, I wouldn't be writing this blog post instead of working on the two research papers, presentation, feature writing project, resume project, org comm exam study guide, media law exam study guide or the research methods literature review. No, obviously I have no real concern over time.
And that's probably how God knew that I could handle this.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Changed Plans, Clueless Friends
It is amazing what time can do... it only takes a second and just like that, your whole world can turn 180 degrees, facing a direction you never thought was possible or never knew existed.
Until last week, I had a plan that I knew in my heart wasn't completely sturdy but in my head was concrete and unbreakable. Of course E would contract with ROTC (soon, rather than later) and I would graduate in May. We would both work hard over the summer, 40+hours each, to pay for an October wedding. But first, we would rent an apartment in Halton Park around August and E would live there while he started school, waiting for me until October. We would be married on the 6th, honeymoon for a week and then come back to enjoy a year and half of life as a married couple. Maybe I would get a full-time PR job, or maybe I would work random shifts doing random things, all the while not caring because we had been given a fresh start and time to finally, finally, finally focus on us.
How silly I feel looking back on that plan. How stupid I must look, to have thought even for a moment that we would get to live a normal life for even five minutes... that we would catch a break that we both felt we deserved. Absolutely stupid.
Last Tuesday changed me so much that I feel like I don't even know who I was before then. It might sound absolutely silly, but it couldn't be more true. In a single second, I found out that E would be deploying in July. In just eight short months, he will be in Afghanistan for at least a year. There will be no ROTC, no October wedding, no year of wedded bliss. He won't get to graduate how he wanted, he won't receive a commission in 2013 and he'll be alone in another country, a dangerous country, without family for a year. The reason doesn't matter, the facts still remain.
In one phone call, all of our dreams just dissipated and we were forced to form a new plan. E has been so positive about it, and that makes me so proud of him. I feel like I, too, should be positive but right now it seems a struggle just to not cry as soon as I remember that he's going to deploy. He wants to get married before he leaves, and I do too. Is that selfish? I can't tell. I can't decide if the things I want are selfish or if they're smart. I don't know the difference anymore, really. Is it bad that we want to benefit from the deployment financially as much as possible? Is that taking advantage of the system? Am I using him, is he using me? Does it matter when we marry if we were planning to do it anyway? I just don't know. I also know that I can't ask these questions to just anyone because not just anyone will understand. If I have learned anything this past week, it is that the majority of civilians and those who aren't directly affected by someone in the military will NOT, under any circumstance, understand or begin to understand a damn thing you are dealing with.
The people who you thought were your best friends will disappoint you. And it isn't their fault. They honestly have no way of knowing what to say, or how you're feeling or the realities that you are dealing with. They will watch the news, listen to your stories and they will think that they have formulated some kind of idea but you will not be fooled; they are clueless.
And you will, in turn, become out of tune to them. And that isn't your fault either. All of a sudden, when I listen to someone's problems about dating or school, or "OMG I might not make a 100, i'll have to settle for a 99.9," I get the urge to hurl a chair into the air and watch it fall, miserably on top of what ever problem said person seemed to have and then walk away saying, "Well, on top of all that, you now have a broken chair." Childish? Probably. But I just can't find myself to sympathize anymore.
For awhile I've felt like I was just drifting away from most of my friends. They would make comments about my "rushing" growing up and I would just sit back and laugh... rushing? How have I rushed anything? I excelled in school so I'm graduating a year early. Did I rush it? Not really. I fell in love at 16 and never, ever fell out of it... yet I'm "rushing" a marriage? We've been together, cumulatively, for five years! How slow should we be going?
And now, when I hear about their problems that seem so trivial compared to the thought of E's looming deployment, I just get irritated. I'm trying so hard to put it into perspective, to not be a bad guy in all of this. But how could I possibly feel sorry that you might get a B+ on your 40 page paper when E is about to go and possibly be shot at for an entire year? Your problems just don't seem so bad, and I have a hard time feeling anything towards you.
I feel so caught in this awkward limbo of childhood and adulthood. Most of my friends are a year+ away from graduating, barely maintain a relationship for longer than 6 months (if that) and still have everything handed to them from mommy and daddy. I'm about to be a married woman, graduating from college and trying to enter the workforce. What, if anything, do we even have in common? Perhaps this is just emotions running high right now. This is me, over analyzing everything and being entirely too dramatic for my own good. Except this doesn't seem like a drama anymore. This seems like reality grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me, trying to wake me up from this daze I've allowed myself to be consumed in for months.
In the meantime, I will have to just deal with it. I will have to deal with friends who don't really know how to support me in this (And how the heck could I expect them to when I have no idea how to do myself?), I will have to plan a wedding in six months, I will have to stay strong for Ethan because he has to be scared, too. I don't know how it'll work but I know that it will work. It has to, right?
Until last week, I had a plan that I knew in my heart wasn't completely sturdy but in my head was concrete and unbreakable. Of course E would contract with ROTC (soon, rather than later) and I would graduate in May. We would both work hard over the summer, 40+hours each, to pay for an October wedding. But first, we would rent an apartment in Halton Park around August and E would live there while he started school, waiting for me until October. We would be married on the 6th, honeymoon for a week and then come back to enjoy a year and half of life as a married couple. Maybe I would get a full-time PR job, or maybe I would work random shifts doing random things, all the while not caring because we had been given a fresh start and time to finally, finally, finally focus on us.
How silly I feel looking back on that plan. How stupid I must look, to have thought even for a moment that we would get to live a normal life for even five minutes... that we would catch a break that we both felt we deserved. Absolutely stupid.
Last Tuesday changed me so much that I feel like I don't even know who I was before then. It might sound absolutely silly, but it couldn't be more true. In a single second, I found out that E would be deploying in July. In just eight short months, he will be in Afghanistan for at least a year. There will be no ROTC, no October wedding, no year of wedded bliss. He won't get to graduate how he wanted, he won't receive a commission in 2013 and he'll be alone in another country, a dangerous country, without family for a year. The reason doesn't matter, the facts still remain.
In one phone call, all of our dreams just dissipated and we were forced to form a new plan. E has been so positive about it, and that makes me so proud of him. I feel like I, too, should be positive but right now it seems a struggle just to not cry as soon as I remember that he's going to deploy. He wants to get married before he leaves, and I do too. Is that selfish? I can't tell. I can't decide if the things I want are selfish or if they're smart. I don't know the difference anymore, really. Is it bad that we want to benefit from the deployment financially as much as possible? Is that taking advantage of the system? Am I using him, is he using me? Does it matter when we marry if we were planning to do it anyway? I just don't know. I also know that I can't ask these questions to just anyone because not just anyone will understand. If I have learned anything this past week, it is that the majority of civilians and those who aren't directly affected by someone in the military will NOT, under any circumstance, understand or begin to understand a damn thing you are dealing with.
The people who you thought were your best friends will disappoint you. And it isn't their fault. They honestly have no way of knowing what to say, or how you're feeling or the realities that you are dealing with. They will watch the news, listen to your stories and they will think that they have formulated some kind of idea but you will not be fooled; they are clueless.
And you will, in turn, become out of tune to them. And that isn't your fault either. All of a sudden, when I listen to someone's problems about dating or school, or "OMG I might not make a 100, i'll have to settle for a 99.9," I get the urge to hurl a chair into the air and watch it fall, miserably on top of what ever problem said person seemed to have and then walk away saying, "Well, on top of all that, you now have a broken chair." Childish? Probably. But I just can't find myself to sympathize anymore.
For awhile I've felt like I was just drifting away from most of my friends. They would make comments about my "rushing" growing up and I would just sit back and laugh... rushing? How have I rushed anything? I excelled in school so I'm graduating a year early. Did I rush it? Not really. I fell in love at 16 and never, ever fell out of it... yet I'm "rushing" a marriage? We've been together, cumulatively, for five years! How slow should we be going?
And now, when I hear about their problems that seem so trivial compared to the thought of E's looming deployment, I just get irritated. I'm trying so hard to put it into perspective, to not be a bad guy in all of this. But how could I possibly feel sorry that you might get a B+ on your 40 page paper when E is about to go and possibly be shot at for an entire year? Your problems just don't seem so bad, and I have a hard time feeling anything towards you.
I feel so caught in this awkward limbo of childhood and adulthood. Most of my friends are a year+ away from graduating, barely maintain a relationship for longer than 6 months (if that) and still have everything handed to them from mommy and daddy. I'm about to be a married woman, graduating from college and trying to enter the workforce. What, if anything, do we even have in common? Perhaps this is just emotions running high right now. This is me, over analyzing everything and being entirely too dramatic for my own good. Except this doesn't seem like a drama anymore. This seems like reality grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me, trying to wake me up from this daze I've allowed myself to be consumed in for months.
In the meantime, I will have to just deal with it. I will have to deal with friends who don't really know how to support me in this (And how the heck could I expect them to when I have no idea how to do myself?), I will have to plan a wedding in six months, I will have to stay strong for Ethan because he has to be scared, too. I don't know how it'll work but I know that it will work. It has to, right?
Sunday, November 20, 2011
So ready.
I'm trying so hard not go into my crazy, over-thinking, dramatic, jealousy-infused mode. I'm sick and tired of it though...I'm just getting sick and tired and I haven't done anything wrong. We're more different than I ever thought, I get that. But how about you not rub it all around in my face?
Next year can't get here fast enough.
I'm ready for my escape.
Next year can't get here fast enough.
I'm ready for my escape.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Veteran's Day
Today I just sit back and reflect. It's Veteran's Day and I can't find the right words to describe how I feel about it. A year ago, I was sitting at home praying that by the next week, I would be in Ft.Leonard Wood, seeing Ethan graduate from OSUT. It had been almost four months since I had seen him, with only a few phone calls and letters, along with prayer and tears to prove that I was even in a relationship. How silly I must have looked to those loved ones who will never again see their soldier. Although all it took was a letter to turn my sadness into excitement, I was always wanting more. More time to talk on the phone, longer letters to read... and some will never receive a letter again. How blessed have I been to live in America. God put me here for a reason, and while I don't know that I realize what that reason is, I know that it was done purposefully and carefully. I am so humbled to live in a land where men and women made the decision to sign a blank check, to me directly. They don't know what will happen, where they will go or if they will come home but they do it anyway. I am so, so thankful. Ethan being in the Army has opened my eyes to a whole new world... a world of appreciation, worry, stress, fear, education, gratitude and so much more. I am grateful for him, for those who came before him, those serving alongside him and those will one day chose to serve after him. I am just so, so thankful.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
What I Needed
Yesterday I went to class but had to go to Caldwell Community College to drop off signed paper work in order to take an online class there next semester. I was so eager to get that done so I could have some security with my registration. After I was done, I decided to head to Boone for a few hours to see Lukas. In my head, Boone is only like 20 minutes from Caldwell but in reality it was like 45 minutes. Driving up the mountain, about half way, I started to wonder to myself what in the world I was thinking. It was a Tuesday night, I was missing class, I had a tone of stuff to do at home before a ridiculously busy week got under way and here I was, driving to Boone like nothing in the world was happening in my life that required immediate attention.
And it was amazing.
I had been fighting with E for a few hours - we're both so volatile, a fight is never fun for us. We've both reached this apex of stress and we're saying things we don't mean, feeling anger and misdirecting it towards each other. My senior year has taken about ten years off of my life expectancy and time from away that, and from my "normal" was so much needed and appreciated.
Spending a few hours with my best friend was perfect, too. It had been a ridiculously long time since I've heard him play piano and I had forgotten how much I truly love just listening. If I could bottle up his performance and just release it whenever I needed it, that would probably be as close to perfection as I would need.
The day ended too soon and on my ride home, I listened to classical music and just watched my drive. Not quite as stunning as a mountain drive at sunset, but beautiful none the less. Driving can be so relaxing sometimes.
And it was amazing.
I had been fighting with E for a few hours - we're both so volatile, a fight is never fun for us. We've both reached this apex of stress and we're saying things we don't mean, feeling anger and misdirecting it towards each other. My senior year has taken about ten years off of my life expectancy and time from away that, and from my "normal" was so much needed and appreciated.
Spending a few hours with my best friend was perfect, too. It had been a ridiculously long time since I've heard him play piano and I had forgotten how much I truly love just listening. If I could bottle up his performance and just release it whenever I needed it, that would probably be as close to perfection as I would need.
The day ended too soon and on my ride home, I listened to classical music and just watched my drive. Not quite as stunning as a mountain drive at sunset, but beautiful none the less. Driving can be so relaxing sometimes.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Limbo
I'm caught in this gigantic world of uncertainty right now. It's so icky feeling. Ethan is so close to being contracted to UNCC's ROTC program, but he's also very close to being locked into a deployment. It's hard not to know if I should be preparing myself for a Wedding next October followed by a honeymoon and 12 months in Charlotte, or a quick ceremony in the spring followed by a year long deployment, home & away from the most important person in my life.
This past weekend was beautiful. So simple and so perfect. It was relaxing at home with E, watching my favorite TV show for hours on end, eating home cooked meals and laughing. It was better than any party I missed out on, any alcohol that could have gotten me drunk. It was the perfect way to spend my time.
I'm getting stoked about next semester, though. Because no matter what direction life takes me, that's going to be happening. I'll only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays which is PERFECT for me. Every weekend will be a four day weekend as far as school goes. This will leave LOTS of time for going to Charlotte, working out, getting homework done, doing an internship and getting extra hours in at work.
Speaking of working out, I've totally put off losing weight long enough. I know why I've done it. I know it and it's embarrassing. I lose weight SO easily. Back in the spring of 2007, I met this guy who I became infatuated with. Older, hot, nice car... yep, that was all the motivation naive, 16 year old me needed to drop like 40 pounds in no time at all.
I was a size 10 people. A SIZE MO'FUCKING TEN!
I gained weight back, and then when E left for training I decided to lose more weight, BOOM. 20 pounds gone in like 2 months. And it's all back and I keep saying, "I'll start next week..." because I know when I start, it will come off. But I don't want to do that anymore. It isn't healthy. I already have scars that I'm not proud of that's resulted from my not keeping myself healthy; I already suffer a bit from my simply being lazy as hell.
So instead of starting tomorrow, or Monday. I'm starting right now. It'll be epic.
This past weekend was beautiful. So simple and so perfect. It was relaxing at home with E, watching my favorite TV show for hours on end, eating home cooked meals and laughing. It was better than any party I missed out on, any alcohol that could have gotten me drunk. It was the perfect way to spend my time.
I'm getting stoked about next semester, though. Because no matter what direction life takes me, that's going to be happening. I'll only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays which is PERFECT for me. Every weekend will be a four day weekend as far as school goes. This will leave LOTS of time for going to Charlotte, working out, getting homework done, doing an internship and getting extra hours in at work.
Speaking of working out, I've totally put off losing weight long enough. I know why I've done it. I know it and it's embarrassing. I lose weight SO easily. Back in the spring of 2007, I met this guy who I became infatuated with. Older, hot, nice car... yep, that was all the motivation naive, 16 year old me needed to drop like 40 pounds in no time at all.
I was a size 10 people. A SIZE MO'FUCKING TEN!
I gained weight back, and then when E left for training I decided to lose more weight, BOOM. 20 pounds gone in like 2 months. And it's all back and I keep saying, "I'll start next week..." because I know when I start, it will come off. But I don't want to do that anymore. It isn't healthy. I already have scars that I'm not proud of that's resulted from my not keeping myself healthy; I already suffer a bit from my simply being lazy as hell.
So instead of starting tomorrow, or Monday. I'm starting right now. It'll be epic.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Hello, Overdue Blog Post
I've decided that I'm quite terrible at making myself sit down and blog on a regular basis. I've contemplated writing it in on my iCal to remind me to blog a few times a week, but I can't honestly say I have an intention from the beginning to follow through with it so I won't even bother.
I feel like it's been so long since I've said anything here, and the truth is, so much has changed. And I also feel like it's obvious to state that, because I feel like my life takes a new direction every single day. How awesome is that? I'm so thankful that my life doesn't stay the same day in and day out... sure, I love consistency, but I'm also appreciative that the bad times never stay bad for too long but also that they're around to help me appreciate the good times.
Last Thursday I bought the most important dress of my life. I don't know how to transition to that statement, so I find it best to just jump right to it. I bought THE dress.I didn't plan on it, but Candace and I ended up in Charlotte at David's Bridal for hours and finally, I picked one out. The whole process was surreal. We had our picture taken a few weeks ago, and that was a monumental point for me in our engagement because I could visually see a product (other than the ring of course) representing our engagement. But the dress? The dress is the first thing I have representing our wedding. It will be the last thing I wear as a single lady and the first thing I wear as a married woman. It's the dress that E will see me walk through the sanctuary in, the dress that should bring a tear to his eye. As I was trying them on, I was overwhelmed in the beginning. One actually brought a tear to my eye... not because it was "The One", but because it just hit me... I'm a bride. I sometimes just look down at my ring and try to soak in what it really means, how things will change and how good God has been to me.
The day after I bought my dress was my 21st birthday. I say that I hate my birthday, but in reality, I look forward to it secretively every year. And each year, I'm let down just a little bit more by harsh realities. It's a day that makes me miss my grandmother, long for more friends and a more closely-knit family. It makes me hate the army for keeping E away and it makes me regret staying at L-R... but it also does other things. It shows me who truly does care to make a phone call, who shows up to say I love you and who cares enough to try and coerce me to make a bigger deal out of it than I do.
I'm learning so much about myself right now... some of it's good, some of it's bad. I'm far too dependent with desires to be independent, sometimes. I'm so excited about marriage but I'm scared to death. What if I'm not a good fiance? What if I won't make a good wife? The distance from here to Charlotte kills me. I'm competing with miles and the miles always seem to win. I want nothing more than to get in my car every night and to drive straight "home" to him, but my "home" is where my heart is and my heart is cities away. I won't be able to go home for another year. It breaks my heart, really, to know that it's possible, but not the smartest idea, to be able to see him more than I do. Gas is expensive, the time we have together invaluable. Maybe I should prioritize a bit.
I did get to Shatley Springs this weekend, and it didn't disappoint. I spent time with my best friend's family, albeit more time than I had planned, and I enjoyed every minute (minus the carsickness). The leaves were beautiful on the drive up, the snow was beautiful once there and the company was, as always, the best part. There are days I stress about whether or not I'm a good enough friend, days I realize how short I really fall of where I should be... one fight with E saying things he didn't mean caused me to go into a panic about whether or not I was being replaced, about how replaceable I really am, and then there are weekends like the last that make me realize how lucky I am to just be where I am. They make me feel idiotic about my insecurities. And they remind me that I am more Grace than I care to admit.
Oh, and Ethan did get a job, though. Another bright spot. Finally prayers have been answered and he is at work. Soon, hopefully, his contract with UNCC ROTC will come through and we can finally sit down together and create a budget and savings plan. I am such a nerd, but I love a good spreadsheet. I love organizing and having a goal and reaching it and realizing how all my hard work has paid off. This week I've started looking for jobs, filling out online job profiles, searching for apartments and reading up about life in Charlotte. I'm getting excited.
Life is happening, so fast. I both love and hate it. I can't wait for tomorrow, but I miss yesterday, too.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
2,000 words and no resolution.
I have avoided writing a serious post in this blog for months. It's evident by my lack of frequency and the simple, nice but unnecessary anecdotes that I tried to convince myself were enough to keep an accurate account of my life.
A while ago, on Twitter, I made the comment that I don't just keep a blog for myself, but so that when my children are old enough, they will have a physical avenue for finding out who their mom really is. I want to not only tell my children that I know of their hardships, their trials and their struggles but to open up a page of a book and allow them to read exactly what I was thinking. Perhaps they will walk away stunned with embarrassment...("Oh my God, my mother was a virgin bride?"), or maybe they'll be shocked by my values... ("Oh Lord, she's one of those liberals.")...It might be that they're shocked by who I mention, "Oh dear LORD, she knew Lukas when he was OUR age?" and I pray that it's never, "Who's this Ethan guy she mentions 30485908 times?"
No matter their reactions, I want it to be there. For when I'm alive, as a reference. For when I'm gone, as a reminder.
But for a few months I've tried to sugar coat things and I've left out a lot. Not that I'm using my future kids as an excuse, but writing things down and hitting, "Publish Post" seems so final. If I just talk about things casually, or not at all, maybe they aren't really real... but the journalist inside of me reminds me that once it's written, published and read, well, it's official.
By not writing things down, perhaps, I tried to convince myself, I could truly omit them. Maybe I'd forget them and when I looked back on this year, I would only see the good. That isn't fair though. It isn't fair to my kids who will read this, my friends who have had to see me at my worst or myself. So I write.
When I got back from New Orleans in August, I was on cloud nine. I had just gotten engaged to Ethan, I came home to a completely purged bedroom and bathroom that was clean and organized, school hadn't started yet for the fall semester and I was convinced that I was going to start dieting and exercising and losing weight. I told myself that I was thankful that my best friend and new fiancé would be in different cities because it would give me time for "me". I would get so much more accomplished, I thought. I tried to tell myself, and I succeeded for a while, that if I was alone, I would have no one to blame for failure but myself. And if I were completely dependent on myself, I would never fail.
It didn't take long, though, for me to realize that I had created an unreasonable ideal of an idealistic situation in my head. For every ounce of me that is anti-social, there's an equal ounce that requires stimulation. For every hour that I crave solitude, there is an equal hour that I crave companionship.
I'd be kidding myself if I said I made friends easily. I just don't do it. I have a few friends that I love dearly, and aside from that, I'm relatively alone. In elementary school (though that was a long, long time ago) I was ridiculously social. Even into middle school, I maintained a tight social group. I did lots of things that kept me busy; swimming, softball and cheer leading with numerous clubs and academic activities throughout the years. I immersed myself in schoolwork to avoid my home life, and it paid off tremendously.
When I got to high school, things changed so dramatically. My best friend was Katie and to this day, I blame that friendship on my inability to make friends easily. It wasn't her fault necessarily, but at fourteen, I was more hurt by what her and her then-boyfriend did to me than I had ever truly been before.
She was 14 and had been dating a mutual friend, when she met a senior who was everything she had thought she would ever need. He was attractive, older and interested in her. Flash-forward a few months, and she was pregnant. She didn't tell me right away, but I found out from an ex-girlfriend of his and confronted her, first she denied it, then she reluctantly admitted it. I tried to be supportive.
Katie had always wanted to be part of the "popular" crowd, and as soon as the word got out, they momentarily embraced her and did much of what I wanted to be able to do for her. They threw her a baby shower, to which I wasn't invited to, and stepped into the "best friend" role nicely. As the months went out, she drew away from me, my other friends stopped talking to me and I felt so isolated. In the middle of all of this, I took a class that literally ruined my entire year. I was a Teen Living class and the girls in there hated me. I was more outspoken than most, but I tried to stay to myself. My teachers liked me, but that only made me more of a target. I will never forget that almost twice a week, we played "battleship" in groups. No matter what group I went in, my group was always targeted. No one ever wanted me in their group, and students would literally yell at me and threaten me if I tried to sit with them. My teacher did nothing about it. I don't know if it counts as bullying or not, but I had never been so miserable. I felt jaded, alienated. I went home crying almost every day.
I found out later that Katie’s boyfriend had spread a rumor about me; the details don't matter. If the rumor had been true, I would have hated me too. It killed my spirit for a long time.
After that, it was incredibly hard to make solid friends, and it still is. I never trusted.
Flash-forward to today, and I’m still timid and select. I’ve made few, close friends over the years but I can’t seem to find a friend group that I fit in with. I go to L-R almost every day, talk to many, many people and yet, I’m still incapable of forming strong bonds, even weak bonds, with people.
So when the two most important people around me left, within weeks of each other, I sort of began to fall apart. It wasn’t that they were gone that bothered me. And it still doesn’t. It’s their ability to have exactly what I want that gets me every time. I’d like to say that I’m not jealous at all that one has a family who’s practically paying for their education, but I’d be lying. I’m extremely jealous. I try so hard not to get caught up in what I think I deserve versus what I actually have, but there are times my selfishness gets the best of me and settle for, “it just isn’t fair”.
I could also try and say that it doesn’t bother me that the other, who didn’t really care about school and barely wants to even obtain a college degree, is getting exactly what I want. Granted, he deserves every ounce of education that the military is will to pay for, but it kills me sometimes because I see what he’s got and how he isn’t truly taking advantage of it. I think about how, if it were I, I’d do things so differently. I’d be more social, join more things, go more places… but he doesn’t do any of it. I pray he doesn’t regret it.
September came and instead of being able to focus on the positives, I’ve been nothing but immersed in the negative. I’ve felt more alone in the past 6 weeks than I have felt in years. An inconvenience at best, my company is not one that is often sought after and after years and years of struggling, I’ve started to just give up.
Every ounce of sadness that I ever experienced, it seems, has flooded back to me in the past few months. The pain from my grandmother’s death, the sadness of not having a father around… things that should have long-ago been resolved are fresh, as if they happened last night.
I go home every night by myself, and I cry. I look forward to nothing. I’ve made myself aware of the fact that I’m pushing people away. My best friend, caring and compassionate at times, frustrated and justifiably irritated at other times, has got to be close to exhausting his efforts at showing me that I’m not nearly as alone as I feel. Ethan, God love him, doesn’t particularly understand what I’m going through and sees no real problem in being by yourself most of the time. He prefers solitude. A homebody by nature, he doesn’t mind the one thing that drives me to the brink of insanity.
I am insanely sensitive at the moment. A wrong look, and I melt. A few days ago, I was feel awful. I wanted nothing more than to be alone. I ended up playing games with three people whom I should feel the most comfortable around. I couldn’t manage it. I wanted to escape the situation so badly. I kept getting “skipped” just for the hell of it; it brought back nothing more than the memories of my battleship being sunk.
The following conversation, that should have just made me laugh, left me in tears.
Him: “You realize you just got skipped twice, right?”
Me: “No, I got skipped once…”
Him: “No, you took your skip but then you let us skip you a second time.”
Me: “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Him: “Because I didn’t want you to win?”
I excused myself, saying I needed to charge my phone. I cried. I wanted to go to bed, so badly. I wanted to just curl up and not come back out. I dried my eyes; finished the night, and I felt nothing more than a desire to never be called again.
I long for the random texts from my friends that used to make my days, but are now far and few between. Busier lives than mine, I understand why they’re missing. I also don’t want them. I roll my eyes at phone calls. I hate face book for reminding me of what I’m missing, and I love it for keeping me connected in the least little reassuring bit.
I dread seeing my friends, but I look forward to it. I hate how I don’t have a friend group. I hate how I have best friends but I’m not apart of their real life. I’m apart of a small portion. When did I let myself become so secluded?
I look forward to marriage, moving to Charlotte and prayerfully starting over. But I’m terrified. What if it doesn’t happen? What if I move there, and I’m even more alone than I am now? What if I lose the last bit of connection I have to my best friends here, and I’m completely isolated?
The anxiety, alongside the depression, has sent me into the darkest time I can remember. I hate it. I love it. I want to learn from it, but I want it to go away. I embrace it and find it comfortable, yet it’s miserable. It’s the same reason I hate my birthday. Why? Because it’s just another day. A day I typically spend by myself. Such an accurate representation of my everyday life, it’s an occasion that deserves to be memorialized the same way its predecessors have been celebrated.
I’m jealous, envious, tired, exhausted and hitting rock bottom at a speed that makes me uncomfortable. I’m certain that I’m replaceable, isn’t everyone? I know that I’m expendable. I realize that if I keep this up, another Olivia will pop up – or have they already? – into the lives of others and then, I will be more alone than I image I am at the current moment.
And I am logical at the same time.
I have friends, but I have fake friends, too. I have friends that love me and friends that call me only when something is going wrong, like a boyfriend that's broken up with them. I have friends that call to brag about things, call for comfort or call to waste their time. And I have real friends too.
I realize that most of this is unnecessary. I realize that if I stepped back and truly examined the situation, I wouldn’t be so sad. I would cry less tears. But I’m tired of being logical. I’m tired of having to be strong, and independent. I hate being in control, but I love it. I need direction, but I can’t take it. My guard is up and walls are built. I’m not sure how to tear them down.
I’m not sure that I want to. But I know that I want to.
A while ago, on Twitter, I made the comment that I don't just keep a blog for myself, but so that when my children are old enough, they will have a physical avenue for finding out who their mom really is. I want to not only tell my children that I know of their hardships, their trials and their struggles but to open up a page of a book and allow them to read exactly what I was thinking. Perhaps they will walk away stunned with embarrassment...("Oh my God, my mother was a virgin bride?"), or maybe they'll be shocked by my values... ("Oh Lord, she's one of those liberals.")...It might be that they're shocked by who I mention, "Oh dear LORD, she knew Lukas when he was OUR age?" and I pray that it's never, "Who's this Ethan guy she mentions 30485908 times?"
No matter their reactions, I want it to be there. For when I'm alive, as a reference. For when I'm gone, as a reminder.
But for a few months I've tried to sugar coat things and I've left out a lot. Not that I'm using my future kids as an excuse, but writing things down and hitting, "Publish Post" seems so final. If I just talk about things casually, or not at all, maybe they aren't really real... but the journalist inside of me reminds me that once it's written, published and read, well, it's official.
By not writing things down, perhaps, I tried to convince myself, I could truly omit them. Maybe I'd forget them and when I looked back on this year, I would only see the good. That isn't fair though. It isn't fair to my kids who will read this, my friends who have had to see me at my worst or myself. So I write.
When I got back from New Orleans in August, I was on cloud nine. I had just gotten engaged to Ethan, I came home to a completely purged bedroom and bathroom that was clean and organized, school hadn't started yet for the fall semester and I was convinced that I was going to start dieting and exercising and losing weight. I told myself that I was thankful that my best friend and new fiancé would be in different cities because it would give me time for "me". I would get so much more accomplished, I thought. I tried to tell myself, and I succeeded for a while, that if I was alone, I would have no one to blame for failure but myself. And if I were completely dependent on myself, I would never fail.
It didn't take long, though, for me to realize that I had created an unreasonable ideal of an idealistic situation in my head. For every ounce of me that is anti-social, there's an equal ounce that requires stimulation. For every hour that I crave solitude, there is an equal hour that I crave companionship.
I'd be kidding myself if I said I made friends easily. I just don't do it. I have a few friends that I love dearly, and aside from that, I'm relatively alone. In elementary school (though that was a long, long time ago) I was ridiculously social. Even into middle school, I maintained a tight social group. I did lots of things that kept me busy; swimming, softball and cheer leading with numerous clubs and academic activities throughout the years. I immersed myself in schoolwork to avoid my home life, and it paid off tremendously.
When I got to high school, things changed so dramatically. My best friend was Katie and to this day, I blame that friendship on my inability to make friends easily. It wasn't her fault necessarily, but at fourteen, I was more hurt by what her and her then-boyfriend did to me than I had ever truly been before.
She was 14 and had been dating a mutual friend, when she met a senior who was everything she had thought she would ever need. He was attractive, older and interested in her. Flash-forward a few months, and she was pregnant. She didn't tell me right away, but I found out from an ex-girlfriend of his and confronted her, first she denied it, then she reluctantly admitted it. I tried to be supportive.
Katie had always wanted to be part of the "popular" crowd, and as soon as the word got out, they momentarily embraced her and did much of what I wanted to be able to do for her. They threw her a baby shower, to which I wasn't invited to, and stepped into the "best friend" role nicely. As the months went out, she drew away from me, my other friends stopped talking to me and I felt so isolated. In the middle of all of this, I took a class that literally ruined my entire year. I was a Teen Living class and the girls in there hated me. I was more outspoken than most, but I tried to stay to myself. My teachers liked me, but that only made me more of a target. I will never forget that almost twice a week, we played "battleship" in groups. No matter what group I went in, my group was always targeted. No one ever wanted me in their group, and students would literally yell at me and threaten me if I tried to sit with them. My teacher did nothing about it. I don't know if it counts as bullying or not, but I had never been so miserable. I felt jaded, alienated. I went home crying almost every day.
I found out later that Katie’s boyfriend had spread a rumor about me; the details don't matter. If the rumor had been true, I would have hated me too. It killed my spirit for a long time.
After that, it was incredibly hard to make solid friends, and it still is. I never trusted.
Flash-forward to today, and I’m still timid and select. I’ve made few, close friends over the years but I can’t seem to find a friend group that I fit in with. I go to L-R almost every day, talk to many, many people and yet, I’m still incapable of forming strong bonds, even weak bonds, with people.
So when the two most important people around me left, within weeks of each other, I sort of began to fall apart. It wasn’t that they were gone that bothered me. And it still doesn’t. It’s their ability to have exactly what I want that gets me every time. I’d like to say that I’m not jealous at all that one has a family who’s practically paying for their education, but I’d be lying. I’m extremely jealous. I try so hard not to get caught up in what I think I deserve versus what I actually have, but there are times my selfishness gets the best of me and settle for, “it just isn’t fair”.
I could also try and say that it doesn’t bother me that the other, who didn’t really care about school and barely wants to even obtain a college degree, is getting exactly what I want. Granted, he deserves every ounce of education that the military is will to pay for, but it kills me sometimes because I see what he’s got and how he isn’t truly taking advantage of it. I think about how, if it were I, I’d do things so differently. I’d be more social, join more things, go more places… but he doesn’t do any of it. I pray he doesn’t regret it.
September came and instead of being able to focus on the positives, I’ve been nothing but immersed in the negative. I’ve felt more alone in the past 6 weeks than I have felt in years. An inconvenience at best, my company is not one that is often sought after and after years and years of struggling, I’ve started to just give up.
Every ounce of sadness that I ever experienced, it seems, has flooded back to me in the past few months. The pain from my grandmother’s death, the sadness of not having a father around… things that should have long-ago been resolved are fresh, as if they happened last night.
I go home every night by myself, and I cry. I look forward to nothing. I’ve made myself aware of the fact that I’m pushing people away. My best friend, caring and compassionate at times, frustrated and justifiably irritated at other times, has got to be close to exhausting his efforts at showing me that I’m not nearly as alone as I feel. Ethan, God love him, doesn’t particularly understand what I’m going through and sees no real problem in being by yourself most of the time. He prefers solitude. A homebody by nature, he doesn’t mind the one thing that drives me to the brink of insanity.
I am insanely sensitive at the moment. A wrong look, and I melt. A few days ago, I was feel awful. I wanted nothing more than to be alone. I ended up playing games with three people whom I should feel the most comfortable around. I couldn’t manage it. I wanted to escape the situation so badly. I kept getting “skipped” just for the hell of it; it brought back nothing more than the memories of my battleship being sunk.
The following conversation, that should have just made me laugh, left me in tears.
Him: “You realize you just got skipped twice, right?”
Me: “No, I got skipped once…”
Him: “No, you took your skip but then you let us skip you a second time.”
Me: “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Him: “Because I didn’t want you to win?”
I excused myself, saying I needed to charge my phone. I cried. I wanted to go to bed, so badly. I wanted to just curl up and not come back out. I dried my eyes; finished the night, and I felt nothing more than a desire to never be called again.
I long for the random texts from my friends that used to make my days, but are now far and few between. Busier lives than mine, I understand why they’re missing. I also don’t want them. I roll my eyes at phone calls. I hate face book for reminding me of what I’m missing, and I love it for keeping me connected in the least little reassuring bit.
I dread seeing my friends, but I look forward to it. I hate how I don’t have a friend group. I hate how I have best friends but I’m not apart of their real life. I’m apart of a small portion. When did I let myself become so secluded?
I look forward to marriage, moving to Charlotte and prayerfully starting over. But I’m terrified. What if it doesn’t happen? What if I move there, and I’m even more alone than I am now? What if I lose the last bit of connection I have to my best friends here, and I’m completely isolated?
The anxiety, alongside the depression, has sent me into the darkest time I can remember. I hate it. I love it. I want to learn from it, but I want it to go away. I embrace it and find it comfortable, yet it’s miserable. It’s the same reason I hate my birthday. Why? Because it’s just another day. A day I typically spend by myself. Such an accurate representation of my everyday life, it’s an occasion that deserves to be memorialized the same way its predecessors have been celebrated.
I’m jealous, envious, tired, exhausted and hitting rock bottom at a speed that makes me uncomfortable. I’m certain that I’m replaceable, isn’t everyone? I know that I’m expendable. I realize that if I keep this up, another Olivia will pop up – or have they already? – into the lives of others and then, I will be more alone than I image I am at the current moment.
And I am logical at the same time.
I have friends, but I have fake friends, too. I have friends that love me and friends that call me only when something is going wrong, like a boyfriend that's broken up with them. I have friends that call to brag about things, call for comfort or call to waste their time. And I have real friends too.
I realize that most of this is unnecessary. I realize that if I stepped back and truly examined the situation, I wouldn’t be so sad. I would cry less tears. But I’m tired of being logical. I’m tired of having to be strong, and independent. I hate being in control, but I love it. I need direction, but I can’t take it. My guard is up and walls are built. I’m not sure how to tear them down.
I’m not sure that I want to. But I know that I want to.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Penguins For My Future Kids
Dear future child(ren) that have yet to be created,
Your dad sent me this today. I was having a very, very awful day and he turned it right around <3 I promise to always send you penguins (or another thing you like - which will probably still be penguins because you will be a normal child) when you are having a bad day. I will love you as much as he will love you, which is just as much as he loves me, and that, lucky kid, is a whole flippin' lot.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
He'll be enough.
Today is my favorite day out of the entire year of days. I don't remember when October 1st became what I looked forward to almost all year long, but it is. There's something definitive about the first of October that's much more important than the official start of fall itself. It also happens to be my unofficial anniversary with E! There's the feeling in the air that the holidays are so, so close but not close enough to worry about the end. There's anticipation of every magical moment and nothing but a blank canvas to turn the holidays into whatever we like. Pumpkin patches open, leaves turn, the temperature seems to drop at just the right time and I can finally wear fall clothing, my favorite. I love harvest festivals and apple cider and semi-scary things near Halloween. I don't really care about my own birthday but my little sister's birthday is in October, too. Her face lights up and she becomes this modest, innocent little girl as everyone sings to her. It's beautiful.
The Holidays are the times I live for because it's when I have the most convincing illusion of family and friends. Everyone's heart is just a little warmer, doors open a bit wider and the food is just a little bit better. There's the sense that people actually do care and love each other, if only for an average of two months out of the year. I put my Christmas tree up long before Thanksgiving, because that's something my Grandmother would have done.
I was talking to my mom last night and I finally had a long assumed thought confirmed as reality...my mom said she and my grandmother used to get into heavy arguments, intense debates because my grandmother truly thought of me as a daughter. I was her second chance at being a good mom... she loved me as a child, not a grandchild. And I loved her as a mother. My own mother is wonderful, I didn't need a replacement... but I got an addition. I had two growing up, even if it wasn't meant to be that way. I had this attachment to her that most grandchildren don't have with their grandparents. When she died, I lost a second mom. And so when most look back on loved ones that passed with a sense of sadness but peace, I find only discomfort and heartache. I truly believe I know what it's like to have a parent pass away. So the holidays are often as hard as they are joyous, because I long for what could have been had she not been taken so soon.
I've dealt with depression for years... some months better, some months worse. These past months have been for the worse with days that I do nothing more than get out of bed, go to class, and go right back to bed... not wanting anything else but sleep. But I am so desperate for my favorite month to turn things around. I don't doubt the magic of the season for a second, and so I'll turn my trust over to the one who created this season of awesome and pray that the days ahead are for greater than the days that have passed.
On a side not, six years ago God showed up in a huge way. We may have taken a break inbetween, but if it wasn't for that awkward night at South Caldwell when E asked me to be his girlfriend for the first time... well, I'm not sure where I'd be now. And I don't want to know. All I know is that I'm blessed more than I realize... I have a lot to be sad over, but he should enough to get me through. And he will be <3
The Holidays are the times I live for because it's when I have the most convincing illusion of family and friends. Everyone's heart is just a little warmer, doors open a bit wider and the food is just a little bit better. There's the sense that people actually do care and love each other, if only for an average of two months out of the year. I put my Christmas tree up long before Thanksgiving, because that's something my Grandmother would have done.
I was talking to my mom last night and I finally had a long assumed thought confirmed as reality...my mom said she and my grandmother used to get into heavy arguments, intense debates because my grandmother truly thought of me as a daughter. I was her second chance at being a good mom... she loved me as a child, not a grandchild. And I loved her as a mother. My own mother is wonderful, I didn't need a replacement... but I got an addition. I had two growing up, even if it wasn't meant to be that way. I had this attachment to her that most grandchildren don't have with their grandparents. When she died, I lost a second mom. And so when most look back on loved ones that passed with a sense of sadness but peace, I find only discomfort and heartache. I truly believe I know what it's like to have a parent pass away. So the holidays are often as hard as they are joyous, because I long for what could have been had she not been taken so soon.
I've dealt with depression for years... some months better, some months worse. These past months have been for the worse with days that I do nothing more than get out of bed, go to class, and go right back to bed... not wanting anything else but sleep. But I am so desperate for my favorite month to turn things around. I don't doubt the magic of the season for a second, and so I'll turn my trust over to the one who created this season of awesome and pray that the days ahead are for greater than the days that have passed.
On a side not, six years ago God showed up in a huge way. We may have taken a break inbetween, but if it wasn't for that awkward night at South Caldwell when E asked me to be his girlfriend for the first time... well, I'm not sure where I'd be now. And I don't want to know. All I know is that I'm blessed more than I realize... I have a lot to be sad over, but he should enough to get me through. And he will be <3
Friday, September 9, 2011
Perfect Day
Right now I'm sitting outside on the patio, the breeze is perfect. It's starting to warm up and the cool air that flows by at just the right time paints a mental image in my head of exactly what I want... the idea of the "perfect" day.
I'm in my own house, the windows are all throw open and the light is natural and the air circulating around me is all thanks to God, not my air conditioning unit. It's probably September, or maybe October. I'm up early and I've worked out before the sun makes it's appearance. Maybe I have kids that have been whisked away to school. Maybe I don't. But I'm home and my house is clean, probably because I'm neurotic about order sometimes. It's all organized, everything in it's place... it's also super cute. I do things that I want to during the day, not things I have to. I don't know if I make any money. Maybe I write blogs, cook lunch, get things ready for dinner... maybe I paint, read a book from front to back, or walk Sasha Fierce around the block. I probably drink coffee. I probably am in good shape and healthy... As the day goes on, my life stays busy. I don't know what I fill my day with while E is gone but I fill it. And when he gets home, I've actually made dinner because I love him and don't want him to worry about it when he gets home... unless I'm tired, and then he doesn't want me to worry about it so he might make it after he's relaxed a bit. The night is young and we embrace it. Maybe we hang out with the kids, or if there aren't any, we go out and we celebrate life... we don't wait on a birthday or anniversary to celebrate because what if those don't come? What if it's our last night together and we don't know it? We celebrate and we go back to our home and it repeats itself.
My perfect day doesn't have anything to do with a career where I make 100,000 a year. It doesn't have anything to do with the summer, or dead of winter... it leaves out the friends of mine that aren't really friends at all... It's pretty perfect. And I don't care if it lives up to the expectations that others have for what I need or should want...
I'll have it someday. Just not today. Today, I have papers to write.
I'm in my own house, the windows are all throw open and the light is natural and the air circulating around me is all thanks to God, not my air conditioning unit. It's probably September, or maybe October. I'm up early and I've worked out before the sun makes it's appearance. Maybe I have kids that have been whisked away to school. Maybe I don't. But I'm home and my house is clean, probably because I'm neurotic about order sometimes. It's all organized, everything in it's place... it's also super cute. I do things that I want to during the day, not things I have to. I don't know if I make any money. Maybe I write blogs, cook lunch, get things ready for dinner... maybe I paint, read a book from front to back, or walk Sasha Fierce around the block. I probably drink coffee. I probably am in good shape and healthy... As the day goes on, my life stays busy. I don't know what I fill my day with while E is gone but I fill it. And when he gets home, I've actually made dinner because I love him and don't want him to worry about it when he gets home... unless I'm tired, and then he doesn't want me to worry about it so he might make it after he's relaxed a bit. The night is young and we embrace it. Maybe we hang out with the kids, or if there aren't any, we go out and we celebrate life... we don't wait on a birthday or anniversary to celebrate because what if those don't come? What if it's our last night together and we don't know it? We celebrate and we go back to our home and it repeats itself.
My perfect day doesn't have anything to do with a career where I make 100,000 a year. It doesn't have anything to do with the summer, or dead of winter... it leaves out the friends of mine that aren't really friends at all... It's pretty perfect. And I don't care if it lives up to the expectations that others have for what I need or should want...
I'll have it someday. Just not today. Today, I have papers to write.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Subconscious
Listen, subconscious, I understand that you're probably aware of this awful month I've been having, but could you possibly try and avoid letting a certain someone infiltrate my dreams every night? It's been three in a row now and, although they haven't been BAD dreams, Andy still continues to star in all of them. I don't know why, I haven't even thought about him in my day to day. I don't see him, miss him, wonder how he is or ever try to talk to him. Nor do I want to. So if it's possible, PLEASE get him out of my fucking sleep because as of late, my sleep time is the best part of my day.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Favorite Post Secrets (:
I was going through my pictures on iPhoto trying to organize them when I came to my stash of old Post Secrets that were my favorites... I thought I'd post some of my favorite ones here because sometimes a secret can tell way more about a person than just a blog post. Enjoy! (:
Sunday, August 21, 2011
****.
How can I say this nicely? Should I? I'm not sure anymore. I just don't understand how she can know that we're engaged and not say ANYTHING. Would it have honestly killed her to say congratulations, or that she was happy for Ethan at least? I don't have a lot of family, I'm reminded of this all the time... so I'm excited to be marrying into a rather large family. But I'm not excited about this kind of family. I know that I have friends and that we're LIKE family, but it just isn't the same. I'll never forget that I was with a friend once, who I consider family, and they made the comment to someone else that we were doing something because, "we're with family." and the person they were talking to quickly said, "no, this isn't family that's just your friend." Another reminder that no, God didn't give me a gigantic family. I have lovely friends who do an amazing job as family, but there's nothing like walking into room of your relatives. Right? Maybe I put too much emphasis on family, I don't know. I just know that tonight, I'm pretty hurt by almost everyone in E's family by how they've reacted to our engagement. This is supposed to be the happiest time of my life but it isn't. And now that I think about it, there have been very few that seem genuinely supportive and excited that I'm getting married anywhere in my life. Whatever.
Fuck you if you don't care. And chances are you probably don't and that's just fucking fine. Fuck.
Fuck you if you don't care. And chances are you probably don't and that's just fucking fine. Fuck.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Blessed.
It's been thirteen days since I last blogged, and as I sat down to write tonight I was enveloped in this emotion that has left me almost speechless. How good is my God? I wish I could figure it out - how He manages to be so amazing, so beautiful and so perfect. I get so emotional sometimes when I sit back and think about how tiny I am; how insignificant I am compared to the world and yet here I am, He finds me worthy enough to be saved by His grace. And that really isn't all... it's more than enough but my God has done more for me. How blessed I am and how unworthy I am of all that I've been given, all that I've got to look forward to.
I wish I could spend a hundred hours blogging about my tip to New Orleans. I know I have enough detail in my mind right now, fresh and exciting memories to regurgitate and dwell over... but the only thing that matters tonight is this:
My best friend, the love of my life, my soul mate, my gift from God and my better half is now my fiance. And I get to go to sleep tonight knowing that I will spend the rest of my life with him by my side. Soon I'll be his wife, and tonight I am a blessed girl.
I wish I could spend a hundred hours blogging about my tip to New Orleans. I know I have enough detail in my mind right now, fresh and exciting memories to regurgitate and dwell over... but the only thing that matters tonight is this:
My best friend, the love of my life, my soul mate, my gift from God and my better half is now my fiance. And I get to go to sleep tonight knowing that I will spend the rest of my life with him by my side. Soon I'll be his wife, and tonight I am a blessed girl.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
I Saw Her Again
Yesterday when I got home from work, I decided I would go ahead and start cleaning out the hall closet. I quickly got to work before running across a bag that contained three home videos and the biggest video recorder I had ever seen. I have been longing for home videos for awhile, assuming that they had been misplaced or thrown away over the years.
My heart started beating faster and faster, and I rummaged through the house trying to find an hold VCR. No luck. I got on WalMart.Com and found a few that were way too expensive considering how outdated they were, and then turned to Craigslist where I found a brand new one being sold by a chiropractor just a few blocks from LR. I considered it fate. One hour and a $10 later, it was mine.
I sat through class afterwards and it seemed to drag. The time was going so slowly and I was growing more and more impatient. I was so eager. I longed to see what my childhood was like because I blocked so much of it out. I was so excited to see a remnant of my family intact, pre-divorce.
I got home and we set it up. My mom was also mildly intrested, as she coudn't remember what was on the tapes.
The first one went in, and I watched as a five year old me took swim lessons at the YMCA with my sister. I was so skinny, so happy and so willing to learn. I giggled when I should have been serious. I fell in love with who I was.
The second one went in. A close up of me, about three months old being held. A voice talked to me, telling me she loved me. Telling me I was a beautiful baby. I asked my mom, "Who is that holding me?" She didn't answer. The camera zoomed out and I froze. There she was. The love of my life, the light of my darkness, the heroine that saved me time and time again. My grandmother smiled at me, she kissed my left cheek.
I wasn't prepared for this. What was I thinking? How could I not have thought, for a moment, that she would be on these tapes? She lived with us. She took care of me while my parents worked. I was so blindsided. I walked away. I wasn't ready, but I needed to be.
I came back. I sat in front of the television for probably four hours. I watched each tape beginning to end; pausing, stopping, crying, playing, laughing...remembering.
I had forgotten her voice. Her smile. Her glasses. Her walk. Memories came flooding back to me, enveloping me in a hurricane of sadness, joy and resentment. I thought about how lucky I was to have had her, how mad I was at God for taking her from me so soon and how my own children would never know her love.
I could blog about her for days, months... I could write about the happy things in the video, how silly of a kid I don't remember being... instead I will stop and reflect on the fact that nothing in this world could have prepared me for seeing my grandmother for the first time in almost 8 years. I don't think I could put a price on how lucky I feel, how blessed I am or how completely moved I have been by finding something so simple, yet so very, very important.
My heart started beating faster and faster, and I rummaged through the house trying to find an hold VCR. No luck. I got on WalMart.Com and found a few that were way too expensive considering how outdated they were, and then turned to Craigslist where I found a brand new one being sold by a chiropractor just a few blocks from LR. I considered it fate. One hour and a $10 later, it was mine.
I sat through class afterwards and it seemed to drag. The time was going so slowly and I was growing more and more impatient. I was so eager. I longed to see what my childhood was like because I blocked so much of it out. I was so excited to see a remnant of my family intact, pre-divorce.
I got home and we set it up. My mom was also mildly intrested, as she coudn't remember what was on the tapes.
The first one went in, and I watched as a five year old me took swim lessons at the YMCA with my sister. I was so skinny, so happy and so willing to learn. I giggled when I should have been serious. I fell in love with who I was.
The second one went in. A close up of me, about three months old being held. A voice talked to me, telling me she loved me. Telling me I was a beautiful baby. I asked my mom, "Who is that holding me?" She didn't answer. The camera zoomed out and I froze. There she was. The love of my life, the light of my darkness, the heroine that saved me time and time again. My grandmother smiled at me, she kissed my left cheek.
I wasn't prepared for this. What was I thinking? How could I not have thought, for a moment, that she would be on these tapes? She lived with us. She took care of me while my parents worked. I was so blindsided. I walked away. I wasn't ready, but I needed to be.
I came back. I sat in front of the television for probably four hours. I watched each tape beginning to end; pausing, stopping, crying, playing, laughing...remembering.
I had forgotten her voice. Her smile. Her glasses. Her walk. Memories came flooding back to me, enveloping me in a hurricane of sadness, joy and resentment. I thought about how lucky I was to have had her, how mad I was at God for taking her from me so soon and how my own children would never know her love.
I could blog about her for days, months... I could write about the happy things in the video, how silly of a kid I don't remember being... instead I will stop and reflect on the fact that nothing in this world could have prepared me for seeing my grandmother for the first time in almost 8 years. I don't think I could put a price on how lucky I feel, how blessed I am or how completely moved I have been by finding something so simple, yet so very, very important.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
An Organized Home Is An Organized Life
I feel so slack. It is the 27th of July and I've only had six blog posts, counting this one. I'm not sure if it's due to an apathy towards writing or because I've been so busy... perhaps it is a combination of both.
I know, without a doubt, that if I would have felt like it, I would have blogged on Sunday about my exhausting yet extremely productive Saturday.
I had decided earlier in the previous week that the weekend (last weekend) was going to be the most productive weekend of my life. I had a schedule written out that detailed what I was going to do hour-by-hour for a full three day weekend... the schedule lasted all of about five hours before I got so mad that I was "running behind" and crumpled the damn thing up. I rationalized that if I was the one that made the schedule, I could also be the one to get rid of it.
The main reason it didn't work was that I had allotted two hours to clean my bathroom. Now, some naiive person who has never seen my bathroom would probably gasp at the thought of having to allocate 120 mintues to clean a small-ish room, but allow me to explain...
This bathroom is huge. It's got a double sink with two huge cabinets, one under each sink, a decently sized closet and a nice jet tub. This isn't a typical bathroom for a 20 year old living at home but I rarely complain about the amenities. I wish, with everything in my heart, that I would have thought to take "before" pictures of this bathroom. In the closet, there were three shelves and a floor PILED in bottles, containers, papers, books, clothes and other artifacts circa 1987. There were literally items in this closet that had been in there prior to my birth and never touched. Under the sinks? The same thing... medicines, lotions, spilled powders... you name it, it was in these cabinets. The shower/tub was gross because, as I finally forced myself to scrub it and clean it, I realized the ledge on the wall was lower than the tub itself so water couldn't drain properly causing it to be disgusting. The sinks were clogged (I had rather long hair before yesteday), the shower drain was stopped up and the toiled was in need of some cleaning, too. I'm not typically a dirty person, I swear. But I get overwhelmed easily. So easily in fact that I have managed to "facade" clean this bathroom before company comes over, minus Ethan because he comes over too much for me to fakely clean it.
But Saturday was the day. I literally spent five hours in that bathroom. By the end of the day, I had an odd red rash on my arms from the chemicals, a headache from the fumes and an increasingly aching back. But it was so worth it. I ended up with three trash bags full of decades worth of junk, (you can't see the third bag):
But in the end I had an organized closet, whose floor could be seen for the first time in years:
A sparkling tub complete with new floor sticky things and candles, along with impeccably clean jets and shower head:
And an over-all glow that makes me not even want to use this bathroom out of fear that it might return to it's previous state:
So after the hours it took to clean this bathroom, I decided that the only logical thing to do was clean my room, too. I'm pretty sure that it's impossible for me to keep my room clean and organized for longer than a week, but I'm determined to try. For me to be so OCD, my room and bathroom are in complete chaos 90% of the time. Here's an embarrassing before picture of what my room looked like prior to the 6 hours I spent cleaning it:
I look at that room and I am immediately stressed out. I once read that a cluttered house is terrible for stress, and that the cleaner your living environment, the cleaner your life is. The more organized our house is, the more organized you are. I wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment. When my room is a wreck, I avoid and it gets worse. I get irritated and it just leads to an overall sense of unpleasantness. I've decided that my goal is to de-clutter the entire house before Christmas. At times I resent that it has to be my goal instead of my mom's goal. She says she's overwhelmed and that she's not the one that created the clutter...and she's about 50% correct. This was her grandmother's house and then her mom's house... their things are still stored away, their junk that they shoved into every nook they could find still resides in their temporary homes. Well, the time has come that someone break the cycle and if she refuses, I'll do it myself.
I didn't take an after picture of my room because technically, it isn't done yet. I still have these boxes to go through:
Along with all my clothes that are currently sorted into laundry baskets in the hall way. I supposed that since they had all been chilling on my floor, it would be better to have them all washed. That'll be done this week. After that I need to dust and swiffer, but it'll only take about an hour before it looks like it should.
For the rest of the week I'll be finishing my room and then Wednesday, I'm on to my next task. I've decided it's the hallway closet. My mom has mentioned doing it herself but that'll probably happen when pigs begin flying. The goal is to throw out 75% of what's in there, box up another 10%, put the remaining 15% where it belongs and then have the majority of the space as free storage. My fear is that after it's cleaned, it will be the new "spot" to put things when someone can't find a place to put it where it should actually go.
The closet is atrocious, to be honest. It's got more stuff in there than most walk-in closets you find in master bedrooms. Pictures, cards, letters, clothes, linens... all of them collected over the last 50 years. You open the door and it's completely packed, wall to wall. It'll probably take hours to sort through everything but it'll be worth it.
My next project will start after I get back from New Orleans (which we leave for in ONE week!!!) is going to start on the day after we come back, in the afternoon and I'll finish it in three days. The laundry room is the room that NO company is every allowed to see. You would think we were hiding dead bodies inside of it. If, for any reason, one would need inside this room while someone was over, you literally have to do this, "Open the door only has far as needed, while squeezing yourself in backwards in order to hide the mess without turning the light on and then shutting it as fast as possible" dance. Ridiculous. As much as I'm not looking forward to this, I AM looking forward to this. It's like an OCD Organizer's worst nightmare and dream come true all in one. The possibilities are endless... I do think I'll paint it with some of the left over paint from the hallway...this could get interesting!
I know, without a doubt, that if I would have felt like it, I would have blogged on Sunday about my exhausting yet extremely productive Saturday.
I had decided earlier in the previous week that the weekend (last weekend) was going to be the most productive weekend of my life. I had a schedule written out that detailed what I was going to do hour-by-hour for a full three day weekend... the schedule lasted all of about five hours before I got so mad that I was "running behind" and crumpled the damn thing up. I rationalized that if I was the one that made the schedule, I could also be the one to get rid of it.
The main reason it didn't work was that I had allotted two hours to clean my bathroom. Now, some naiive person who has never seen my bathroom would probably gasp at the thought of having to allocate 120 mintues to clean a small-ish room, but allow me to explain...
This bathroom is huge. It's got a double sink with two huge cabinets, one under each sink, a decently sized closet and a nice jet tub. This isn't a typical bathroom for a 20 year old living at home but I rarely complain about the amenities. I wish, with everything in my heart, that I would have thought to take "before" pictures of this bathroom. In the closet, there were three shelves and a floor PILED in bottles, containers, papers, books, clothes and other artifacts circa 1987. There were literally items in this closet that had been in there prior to my birth and never touched. Under the sinks? The same thing... medicines, lotions, spilled powders... you name it, it was in these cabinets. The shower/tub was gross because, as I finally forced myself to scrub it and clean it, I realized the ledge on the wall was lower than the tub itself so water couldn't drain properly causing it to be disgusting. The sinks were clogged (I had rather long hair before yesteday), the shower drain was stopped up and the toiled was in need of some cleaning, too. I'm not typically a dirty person, I swear. But I get overwhelmed easily. So easily in fact that I have managed to "facade" clean this bathroom before company comes over, minus Ethan because he comes over too much for me to fakely clean it.
But Saturday was the day. I literally spent five hours in that bathroom. By the end of the day, I had an odd red rash on my arms from the chemicals, a headache from the fumes and an increasingly aching back. But it was so worth it. I ended up with three trash bags full of decades worth of junk, (you can't see the third bag):
But in the end I had an organized closet, whose floor could be seen for the first time in years:
A sparkling tub complete with new floor sticky things and candles, along with impeccably clean jets and shower head:
And an over-all glow that makes me not even want to use this bathroom out of fear that it might return to it's previous state:
So after the hours it took to clean this bathroom, I decided that the only logical thing to do was clean my room, too. I'm pretty sure that it's impossible for me to keep my room clean and organized for longer than a week, but I'm determined to try. For me to be so OCD, my room and bathroom are in complete chaos 90% of the time. Here's an embarrassing before picture of what my room looked like prior to the 6 hours I spent cleaning it:
I look at that room and I am immediately stressed out. I once read that a cluttered house is terrible for stress, and that the cleaner your living environment, the cleaner your life is. The more organized our house is, the more organized you are. I wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment. When my room is a wreck, I avoid and it gets worse. I get irritated and it just leads to an overall sense of unpleasantness. I've decided that my goal is to de-clutter the entire house before Christmas. At times I resent that it has to be my goal instead of my mom's goal. She says she's overwhelmed and that she's not the one that created the clutter...and she's about 50% correct. This was her grandmother's house and then her mom's house... their things are still stored away, their junk that they shoved into every nook they could find still resides in their temporary homes. Well, the time has come that someone break the cycle and if she refuses, I'll do it myself.
I didn't take an after picture of my room because technically, it isn't done yet. I still have these boxes to go through:
Along with all my clothes that are currently sorted into laundry baskets in the hall way. I supposed that since they had all been chilling on my floor, it would be better to have them all washed. That'll be done this week. After that I need to dust and swiffer, but it'll only take about an hour before it looks like it should.
For the rest of the week I'll be finishing my room and then Wednesday, I'm on to my next task. I've decided it's the hallway closet. My mom has mentioned doing it herself but that'll probably happen when pigs begin flying. The goal is to throw out 75% of what's in there, box up another 10%, put the remaining 15% where it belongs and then have the majority of the space as free storage. My fear is that after it's cleaned, it will be the new "spot" to put things when someone can't find a place to put it where it should actually go.
The closet is atrocious, to be honest. It's got more stuff in there than most walk-in closets you find in master bedrooms. Pictures, cards, letters, clothes, linens... all of them collected over the last 50 years. You open the door and it's completely packed, wall to wall. It'll probably take hours to sort through everything but it'll be worth it.
My next project will start after I get back from New Orleans (which we leave for in ONE week!!!) is going to start on the day after we come back, in the afternoon and I'll finish it in three days. The laundry room is the room that NO company is every allowed to see. You would think we were hiding dead bodies inside of it. If, for any reason, one would need inside this room while someone was over, you literally have to do this, "Open the door only has far as needed, while squeezing yourself in backwards in order to hide the mess without turning the light on and then shutting it as fast as possible" dance. Ridiculous. As much as I'm not looking forward to this, I AM looking forward to this. It's like an OCD Organizer's worst nightmare and dream come true all in one. The possibilities are endless... I do think I'll paint it with some of the left over paint from the hallway...this could get interesting!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Beautiful Life
Wednesday afternoon I sat in my car at the hospital in Conover and I cried. No, not the kind of crying that makes you sick or the kind that makes you look like an absolute crazy person, but the kind that humbles you. The kind of crying that makes you realize how small of a person you are compared to the rest of the world. The kind of crying that makes you realize that on some level, every human being is connected someway; we all cry.
I had just left room 221 where one of my best friend's was recovering after giving birth the previous afternoon. Less than a day old, I held Valerie Paige for the first time. I looked down at her, all bundled up, and I was overcome with emotion. She was beautiful. And it wasn't just the "beautiful-because-I-know-the-mom" beautiful. I was staring at the God's most perfect design in one of the most precious forms.
Valerie's dad, who is probably the most proud new father that I have ever seen in my life, immediately whipped out his phone as I began to say how beautiful she is. He clicked on a video, and with little warning, I saw baby Valerie being whisked up from where she had made her grand entrance, and into her mom's arms. She wasn't clean yet, she was screaming like nothing I've ever heard and I lost it. It was the most beautiful video I have ever watched. I saw Mary Beth go from the sarcastic but lovably hardass woman to the most amazing mother in the world, tears in her eyes meeting the love of her life for the first time. I held Valerie for a little while longer, talked to the new parents and then gave her back to dad. I didn't want to stay too long.
I got to my car and a flood of emotions just hit. Where did the time go? My two best girlfriends were now moms. Keaton is a year old now and Valerie is a few days old, but both of my best friends now have kids. We're growing up. Yes, they both had them young so it isn't like I'm behind on popping out babies, but it just put into perspective. Out of the three of us, I'm next.
This probably sounds ridiculous and off topic, but I sort of began to think about Harry Potter after that. When I watched the last movie, I was so sad. "This is it," I thought. Many have said that it seemed like the end of the last movie ended their childhood. For my generation, or perhaps for my graduating class and the ones near it, we grew up with these books and movies. Now it's over and along with that, one of the most important parts of our childhood is over as well.
I'm growing up and it's breaking my heart but it's exciting to me at the same time. Instead of looking forward to spring break because we don't have homework, or to midnight premiers to see a trio of wizards, I'm looking forward to Keaton's second birthday. I'm looking forward to hold Valerie while talking to my best friend about her new life. I'm excited over baby clothes instead of my own clothes. Instead of getting invites for sweet 16s, I'm being invited to weddings and showers.
It's a beautiful life I'm living... at times I miss the 5 year old me that used to play outside until it was dark. We had to come inside once night fell but my sister and I would convince each other that it wasn't quite dark yet... the moon was bright, right? Maybe we could convince our mom that we mistook it for the sun...
...ut I wouldn't trade where I'm at right now for the world <3
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
I'll Settle
I haven't written in so long... I have a blog post that I can't figure out how to hide so this will have to work for now.
I'm not really sure where to begin or what to say, but I feel like I should at least write something.
E left Saturday morning for AT. I thought I'd really miss him but the truth is, I don't. Don't get me wrong... I LOVE me some E, but I know what it's like to truly miss someone. I know what it's like to not hear his voice for over a month, to not see him for four months and to be forced to put the faith I have in our relationship into the hands of God, knowing that we'd come out on top in the end. So two weeks with phone calls every night certainly doesn't warrant me to be pathetically missing E. It does make me wish he were home, though. And I very much can't wait until he's home.
When he DOES get home, we'll be leaving for NOLA which I'm hoping will be a good trip but so far has done nothing but stress me out. I can't help but keep thinking about how if we weren't going I could pay my car off in August but I can't keep thinking about "what if..." It'll all be paid for eventually.
I've been contemplating getting my Master's after graduating in May... not really sure where that'll lead me but I'll have to keep looking into it.
I'm struggling with anger now and I hate it. I'm so mad and it's known that I'm mad and they could honestly care less, which hurts a lot. I'm trying to be rational but I can't be right now... I'm going to assume that this is just preparation for making things easier later. Because later is imminent and this is so typical. It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.
I'm tired.
It feels like a Monday...
I'm not really sure where to begin or what to say, but I feel like I should at least write something.
E left Saturday morning for AT. I thought I'd really miss him but the truth is, I don't. Don't get me wrong... I LOVE me some E, but I know what it's like to truly miss someone. I know what it's like to not hear his voice for over a month, to not see him for four months and to be forced to put the faith I have in our relationship into the hands of God, knowing that we'd come out on top in the end. So two weeks with phone calls every night certainly doesn't warrant me to be pathetically missing E. It does make me wish he were home, though. And I very much can't wait until he's home.
When he DOES get home, we'll be leaving for NOLA which I'm hoping will be a good trip but so far has done nothing but stress me out. I can't help but keep thinking about how if we weren't going I could pay my car off in August but I can't keep thinking about "what if..." It'll all be paid for eventually.
I've been contemplating getting my Master's after graduating in May... not really sure where that'll lead me but I'll have to keep looking into it.
I'm struggling with anger now and I hate it. I'm so mad and it's known that I'm mad and they could honestly care less, which hurts a lot. I'm trying to be rational but I can't be right now... I'm going to assume that this is just preparation for making things easier later. Because later is imminent and this is so typical. It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.
I'm tired.
It feels like a Monday...
Friday, July 8, 2011
The Most Beautiful Woman I Ever Knew
Tomorrow is July 9th. I can still hear your voice in my head saying that date... I heard it all the time at the pharmacy, the doctor's appointments and hospital visits. You emphasized the "Ju" part. It will be the eighth birthday that has passed since you've been gone and the eighth birthday that I will silently celebrate, sans candles and gifts. It will mean to me more now, perhaps, than it did when you were alive.
"July the 9th", as you always said, marks the day that you were set on Earth and became my best friend. I didn't meet you until years later and I only got to spend 13 years with you total, but you have been with me for all 20 of them.
I have so many things to say to you... so many apologies, so many praises, rambles, thoughts, ideas and joyous moments... but if I write them all out now, what might I have to hold on to for tomorrow? The next day?
I will, instead, wish you a soft Happy Birthday... a soft, "I Love You" and a humble, "I miss you." Because I do love and miss you, so very, very much...
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Done with that, fo' sho'
You know what is so stupid?
The fact that for a long time I've:
-Acted like I'm interested in shit I could care less about
-Pretended to find immature humor funny
-Convinced myself that certain things were amusing
-Sacrificed my own taste for the poor tastes of others
-Gotten involved with WAY more drama that I care to have around
-Pretended to give a shit about OTHER people's interests
-Watched other people lead this hypocritical life while being criticized for my OWN choices.
Done. With. That. Bullshit.
The fact that for a long time I've:
-Acted like I'm interested in shit I could care less about
-Pretended to find immature humor funny
-Convinced myself that certain things were amusing
-Sacrificed my own taste for the poor tastes of others
-Gotten involved with WAY more drama that I care to have around
-Pretended to give a shit about OTHER people's interests
-Watched other people lead this hypocritical life while being criticized for my OWN choices.
Done. With. That. Bullshit.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Charlotte
It's starting to hit me that Ethan's going to Charlotte in the fall. I know it's really because of me that he's going... he's told me numerous times that if it wasn't for me, he'd already be in Afghanistan by now. But it's just starting to sink in that in just a few short weeks, he won't be a short drive from me. We won't be seeing each other a few times a week, or ever once a week, for the next year. I thought that I would be the absolute saddest about Lukas leaving in the fall, but I've barely seen him all summer anyway. I'm already starting to adjust to not having him around which is probably a good thing because college and a new social scene will end up taking up most of his time.
I need a change. I wish I would have known what I was going to do a year ago... I could be graduating THIS semester. I can't wait to just get out of this house, be around new friends and be content. It's totally fine. I'm allowed to have self pity every once in awhile.
I need a change. I wish I would have known what I was going to do a year ago... I could be graduating THIS semester. I can't wait to just get out of this house, be around new friends and be content. It's totally fine. I'm allowed to have self pity every once in awhile.
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