Let's Call the Last Few Months My "Sabbatical"

So yes, it's been forever since I've written. And honestly, that drives me nuts. I've been feeling this insane need to write for a while now, but just keep putting it off.

Maybe the main reason I've been procrastinating is that I feel like I should have something significant to write about. And then I stop and realize that I do have something significant to write about. I have LOTS of significant things to write about! My life has changed so very drastically in the last three and a half months that it's hard to believe it's my life. And yet... It's all happened so smoothly (or maybe just so incredibly quickly) that I haven't even noticed just how much has happened.

Since December, I've graduated from MCC (finally!!), spent Hanukkah with my family and synagogue, moved 900 miles away, celebrated Christmas with Aaron's family, got a new job, went to visit Crystal, got Cooper back, and got a new phone.

I get up in the morning, take Cooper out, and shower. I head to Aaron's house, where I work from the comfort of the bedroom that used to belong to one of my best friends. I fix dinner for Aaron and I while he finishes working, and then we just hang out for the evening, often going for a walk and then watching movies or playing video games. Saturday is "our" day, and Sunday is church. And through it all, I keep waiting for my real life to start. I keep thinking that there's no way this is all my life, and there must be something that I have to go back to. I keep feeling like I'm dreaming, and I'm just moments from waking up. I keep waiting to be back in CT, still in school, unemployed, and single. But (but!) none of that is true! And I have to (get to?) remind myself of that daily.

And maybe that's the most significant thing to be writing about - the realization that my life, for once, is going so well that I feel like I'm living in a dream. Sure, there are rough times. There are times when I miss my family and friends. There are days when I miss teaching. There are nights when I hate my dog for having to pee at 2:30am. There are frustrating moments and even times when I'm sad. But I still love my life. So much so that I'm afraid it isn't real.

And that's a great thought.

Reflections

  I've been feeling this incredible urge to write lately. Like, it's been driving me nuts, and I've been ignoring it, hoping it will go away. It's not that I don't want to write - it's just that I keep coming back to the same thing, and I feel like I've said it before. I'm not sure if I have or not, but I feel like I have, and I don't want to come across as a parrot.
  But... A month later, with the same thoughts running through my head, I feel like maybe I need to get this out...

  I've been listening to the Eli Young Band song Guinevere a lot.  Partly because it's the alarm tone on my phone, so I get to hear it whenever I have to wake up or get something done; but also partly because I just can't get parts of it out of my head.
  The beginning of the chorus especially gets into my mind. "For as much as she stumbles, she's running; For as much as she runs, she's still here."
  For some reason, those words always make me think back on my own past, and how the things in my own life have laid the foundation for me to be where I am right now.
  "For as much as she stumbles, she's running."
       There have definitely been times in my life when I was stumbling, and even falling. There were times when I made terrible decisions that turned my life upside-down and drove me to my knees. But... I needed those times. Because I needed to be on my knees so that I could learn how to pick myself back up and to stand on my own two feet. And I desperately needed to be able to stand on my own two feet before I could be ready to stand next to someone worth standing next to.

  "For as much as she runs, she's still here."
       It's strange how sometimes life brings you around in such a neat little circle, taking you away from things and people and places in your life only to bring you right back to them in the end.  I've been stupid enough to allow myself to lose some pretty important people in my life. I've been foolish enough to forget the way certain places I've been have made me feel. But now that I'm on the other side...now that those people are back and those places are in my heart again, I realize just how much I needed to lose them. Because had I not lost those people, I wouldn't hold them in such a precious place in my heart now, and I wouldn't know exactly what it's like to live without them. But because I do know, I also know what I'm willing to do to make sure that doesn't happen again. And the places... When I go back to somewhere I haven't been in a while, and realize just how much that place feels like home, even if it isn't where I grew up or anywhere I plan on being forever, I realize just how hard it is to find that feeling. And I don't want to take that for granted, either.

  I guess that what I'm trying to say is that the more things progress in my life, the more I realize that I was looking at my past completely backwards. Because I always assumed that my life was moving forwards in the good times and completely stalled in the bad times. And maybe, in an overall sense, that's true. I did move forward, bit by bit, on the days when I was laughing and smiling and feeling like I had it all figured out. But the greatest growth in my life, the times I learned the most about myself and what I want in my life, those were sudden leaps that happened seemingly overnight - and they always happened during or immediately following those times in my life when I felt like I'd hit rock-bottom.

  I'm not sure why I felt so compelled to write an entry like this. I feel like, when I look at my life and at how amazing everything is right now, this seems rather down.
  I guess I'm just so very thankful for where I am right now. My sister and I are talking again. I've been with an incredible man for a year now. I have a car. I'm one semester away from my Associate's degree. In 18 weeks, I'll be closing this chapter in my life and running headlong into something new.  And those are all things that I am so excited about. And...they're all things that I don't think I'd be able to say I have, had I not been through the other times in my life. I honestly believe it was precisely those hardships that brought me to where I am today.

And this...
This is such a beautiful place to be. 

What's My Deal!?!?

I’ve been floundering around for a while, trying to figure out myself and my life and where I’m going and what I’m doing in this world. I’ve been trying to come to terms with part of myself that I’m uncomfortable with. Trying to make myself ok with parts of myself I’ve been too scared to express for far too long. Trying to believe that it’s OK to have an opinion. That there’s nothing wrong with chasing down the things I want, the people I want, the dreams I’ve had. Trying to remind myself that it’s OK to have and improve and use this brain in my head.

Trying to convince myself that my personality is my personality and that it’s ok. That it won't hinder any friendships or new relationships or even just negatively impact anyone's opinion of me.

I don’t know what I’m so afraid of.
I’ve been me for the last 25 and a half years. Why should I be afraid of me? Or more accurately… Why am I so afraid to be me?

I’ve always been one to keep the peace. I like it that way. Tell me what it takes to make you happy, and as long as it’s not unreasonable, I’ll do it. And if I’m not sure what you want to do, I’ll just pretend like I don’t care at all. It’s not that I want to seem like an indecisive airhead (which, I realize, is what happens) - it’s that I’d rather not have a strong opinion than have one you don’t like. I’m also known to agree to do something I don’t really want to do. Because I’d rather do that than have you not like what I want.

I’m not sure why I’m like this.
I don’t know why I’m afraid of my own opinions.

Or why I’m afraid to be proactive. I mean…it shouldn’t be so difficult for me to just go for what I want. So…why is it? Why am I afraid of seeming push or clingy whenever I want to initiate any sort of social interaction? Isn’t wanting to see each other often kind of a big part of friendship?

And since when is intelligence a bad thing? How come I’m afraid to sound smart sometimes? Do I really think that the fact that I have a brain and am going to school will count against me in forming any relationships?

I don’t know why I’m so insecure. I really don’t have any reason to be. I’ve got great friends and a huge but very supportive family. I’ve never had anyone say they thought opinions, proactivity, or intelligence were bad things.

So why do I think so? My friends are amazing people. Some of them have been around since I was a kid. Some have been friends since high school or college. Some from various jobs. And some of my closest friends are from the roughest time in my life. They’ve seen me at my best. Seen me at my worst. Laughed with me; cried with me. Stayed at my house; let me stay at theirs.

If I’ve managed to find friends who can stand by me as I lose my job, my car, my apartment, my independence, and my pride… Why do I think they won’t want me to be strong, independent, intelligent, and decisive? And why do I think I can’t find new friends who will do the same?

I mean… Any real friends would love me regardless.

…Right?

Comfort In Strange Places

They say that scent is the strongest sense tied to memory.
How true...

I was reading tonight, finishing Breaking Dawn for the third time.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with thoughts of the coming week. Of the planned meetings with Bubbe. The hopeful/tentative plans with Seth. The cafe and open mic on Wednesday. The uncertainty of Thursday, with the hope of some laundry getting done. The conference this weekend with the 20's in the area.
Thoughts of Jenn and Hart. Of Jackie. Heather. Of my family. Crystal. My friends in Tampa. Britta.
Thoughts of my lack of a job. Of a life.
And I felt...sad...frustrated...almost hopeless. Almost like I was alone in all of it. In all of my wanting to do something...to truly go somewhere with my life...and with my inability to seem to make that happen.

I'm not alone. I know and understand this. I have amazing friends and family. There is not a doubt in my mind that I'm never alone.

But I felt alone, just for that fleeting second.
I missed my life. My security. My independence.

A fraction of a second found me with my face buried in the binding of the book, a habit I'm not sure where I acquired, but one that comforts me nonetheless. Because the friend I borrowed the book from smokes, my nostrils were quickly filled with the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

In a flash, I was no longer standing in my bedroom at 2am, thinking about the things that weren't in order in my life.

I was at Travis' house, sitting on his bed watching a movie, while he played games on his computer and fixed mine.
I was standing in my kitchen, cooking dinner and yelling back and forth through the open door and windows with my group of friends on the balcony.
I was at Ballast with Lucy and Chris and even Rob, watching our makeshift bonfires and walking down the pier.
I was sitting on the sofa in my apartment, playfully closing the curtains as the boys stood outside smoking, using wireless remotes to play video games.
I was at Kelsie's house, talking and giggling and gossiping.
I was walking to the store with Mike, buying diapers for the kids he was babysitting and laughing at the looks other customers were giving us.
I was lounging at the pool at Camden, laughing and screaming and throwing handfuls of ice back at the boys.
I was leaning against the railing on my porch, giggling at the boys and throwing pennies down into the night below, making the frogs jump across the courtyard.
I was walking through Busch Gardens with Travis, as he pretended to be in the area thanks to a local cruise or group trip, just to bum a smoke off a stranger.
I was with Lucy and Chris and Rob again at Starbucks, all of us drinking coffee and talking about anything and everything...and nothing.
I was in my bed, curling up in Gary's arms when he crawled in next to me after locking the door for the night.

And...while there was a slight sting, because I suddenly realized that none of those memories involved Crystal... I was amazed.
Amazed that all that it took to throw me back to so many happy memories was that faint whiff of smoke.
In that split second, I forgot everything else. I forgot the feelings of failure and frustration and sorrow and worthlessness.
All I could remember were the good times. All the days I'd joked with my friends, asking them if they were trying to kill me with all the secondhand smoke.

I never thought that the thought of a cigarette would make me smile. Make me happy. Make me remember days when things were hard, but OK.
And then make me remember what I have.
My parents. My brothers. My sister. My grandmother. The rest of my large, crazy, dysfunctional family whom I love dearly.
Jenn. Jackie. Hart. The rest of my congregation, and the lifelong friends and allies I have found there.
Heather. Britta. Danielle. Mike. Rafael. All the friends who have come into my life over the last almost-25 years and who prove, time and time again, that hey are always there for me.
Alan. Ashley. Krow. Kelsie. Chris. Lucy. Mike. Gary. Everyone in Tampa who accepted me into their group, who made me feel at home, who were there for that happy summer, became my family, and supported me as I crashed and burned.

Suddenly, life wasn't so bad.
Everything was OK. Bearable. Not as bad as it had seemed just moments before.

Because I realized...
No matter where I am, who I'm with, how I'm feeling... Regardless of whether or not I'm employed or I own my own car... Completely independent of my ability to financially (or even emotionally, some days) support myself...

I am never alone.

I have been blessed beyond all measure with friends and family who love me. Who are there for me. Who will always stand beside me, no matter what's happening.

I invariably respond to the question "What's your worst fear?" with the response "That something terrible would happen to the people I love." That sentence is always followed by the addition "And being alone forever."
Tonight I realize that, regardless of whether not the good Lord sees fit to fulfill my desire to share my life and passion with a good man...
I will not be alone forever.

Funny that the "tool" I needed to have that particular revelation was the fading odor of someone's habitual smoking...

Riding the Roller Coaster of My Life

Well...life takes some pretty crazy turns. And I'm not quite sure what's going on anymore.
Between my car not working, getting fired from my job, being frustrated with bills piling up... There's so much going on that I can't catch my breath anymore. And...it just keeps coming.

Gary's living with me now. And...catching me completely off guard...he and I may very well move to Manchester together at Christmas. I'm not making it public...and I'm only telling select people...but it's a very real possibility right now.

*sigh*

I'm much more calm than I should be...but I'm definitely feeling the strain of having no money coming in, but needing to pay bills. I also have to find an apartment for Gary and I in CT, so that we can move in once we get there. Which means that he and I need to save up enough money to move in 7 weeks. Plus line up jobs for once we get up there. And, oh, right, neither of us is working at the moment. And the cheaper options for this move are impossible because of the fact that the car isn't working... And while I want to fix it, I don't have the money to. And I can't sell it, because it will then leave me without a car once I get up to CT. Besides...between Gary and Sergio...the car should be able to be fixed relatively quickly once we move... But the moving up there is going to KILL ME in costs...

Grr... Sometimes I think I should listen to Mom and just marry for money. Life would be a hell of a lot easier that way... :-P

And we're not even going to go into my whole "no, I don't have a crush on Gary, even though we act like we're dating" situation.

*sigh* The thought of leaving here is both exciting and scary. Because...I miss my family and friends back home...and it will be nice to be near them. But...leaving here...leaving my friends and "family" here...will kill me. *sigh* Why can't I have them all in one place????


The last month has been a true test in faith for me... Faith that my bills will be paid. Faith that my needs will be met. Faith that...in spite of everything...what has been happening is truly what will be best for my life.
It's harder than it seems...

Really Happy

Good morning, God.

It's been a while, and it's gonna be hard, but I'm gonna just try to have a civil conversation without obsessing about *someone* today.

I've had a pretty darn good week. I spend day after day with people I love so much. And I'm happy. Just about every day, after work, I head downtown to hang out with Lucy. And we're almost always joined by Trip and Chris. And sometimes Rhett and/or Krow. And more.
And it's great. I mean...I actually have to force myself not to go out one or two days a week, just so I don't completely wear myself out. I never thought that would happen...but it did. And I love it.

And weekends...oy, weekends. Fridays I spend the afternoon with one or more friends, spend the evening with a group, and then the group comes back to my house. And we have fun. Good clean honest fun. Just a bunch of morons hanging out and having a damn good time. Saturdays, the group tends to split up and do their own thing, but I almost always end up with a houseful again Saturday night. So Sunday, when I'm working, there are people running around my house, waiting for me to get off work so we can hang out one last time 'fore everyone has to part ways.

It's so weird for me to think that this is my life...to realize that...I got what I wanted.
This is exactly what I was looking for when I decided to pick up and move. I wanted this change. I wanted these people and this group and this life. These late nights and these weekends.

I've always had friends I've been close to. I still have friends from around the country that I love more than my own life. And I miss them more than I could ever put into words.
But this change...this life...this group... This is exactly what I wanted. This is where I fit.

This is my family now. These are the people I love more than my own life. These people...they are my world. This is the group I'm with every day. These are the people I'm with 24/7. This is where I belong.
I always knew that I'd regret not coming, had I chosen not to. But now...now I see just how much I would have been missing. And..."I'd regret not coming" suddenly isn't strong enough. Suddenly, I realize that...not coming would have been the biggest mistake I could have possibly made.

I've never been a part of a group where any one of us would do anything for anyone. Period. No questions asked. Not even a second thought. It would be reflex. Don't get me wrong...I've always had friends I'd do anything for...but I've tended to be part of groups where each person has this level they'd do for everyone else, and it differed from person to person. Not here.
I don't doubt that they'd do exactly the same thing to protect me that they'd do for the people they grew up with. Because...that's how these guys are.

Every day, I hold these people. Every day, I wrap my arms around them and tell them over and over how much I love them. On a regular basis, I let them know that this move - and more specifically, them - is the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

I'm SO GLAD I did this. I'm so immensely grateful I made this move. I'm so happy that you booted me out the door back home so that I could come down here and form this life.

This decision...this move...is the best thing I've ever done for myself. And putting me into the position where this option was a reality...that's the greatest gift I've ever been given.

Thank you.