Daydreams

Some girls want to marry someone who can take care of them.
A banker. A lawyer. A doctor.
They want the money. The house. The car. 2.5 kids, one dog, and a beautiful modern home on the outskirts of the city.
One acre, tops, that the gardener/landscaper will now once a week while he tends to the flowers and shrubbery.
A daycare to send the kids to as both parents work outside the home. A quiet house to relax in at night. A husband who leaves for work in a suit, carrying a briefcase and who grabs a couple drinks in the hotel bar during business trips.


Not me.


When I close my eyes, I see a curly-haired man with laughing eyes and a crooked smile.
He's wearing a dirty hat, boots, and well-worn jeans. Behind him is a house with a wrap-around porch. Behind that, a barn. There are horses, cattle, dogs, maybe even some sheep, chickens, and goats.
Along one edge of the acres and acres of land is a wooded area. A river runs through it, and our six children can be found laughing and swimming and playing there every day during the summer.
In the evening, my husband comes into the house sweaty from working in the fields and taking care of the animals. The kids and I help his as much as possible when they're not at school and I'm not taking care of the house.
The dinner table is full of laughter as we talk about our days, the children and their father speaking with those endearing accents that they'll never lose, no matter how far from home their lives may lead them.
Sunset finds my husband and I sitting on the porch, watching the kids play with each other, the dogs running at their feet. As it gets darker, mason jars with holes in the lid are filled with fireflies, carefully counted to see who has the most.
the neighbors are just far enough that we can barely see their houses in the winter, when all the trees are bare, but close enough that the children can walk or ride their bikes to each others' houses to play.

Life is loud, hectic, chaotic.
But laughter is the loudest thing you can hear.
Money is tight.
But we never go without the things we need.
Every day is different. Some easy, some hard.
But they each have the consistency of family and love.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Just Me...

I'm clumsy.
My hair never cooperates and my nails always break.
I like colors that are too bright and accent them with colors that are too dark.
I carry purses that are far too big, and keep them filled with items that are far too heavy.
I have zero attention span and I stay up too late at night.
I'm constantly forgetting things or getting sidetracked.
I suck at math and with money.
I laugh too easily and I talk too loud.
I jump into things headfirst, without thinking at all.
I'm stubborn as a mule and I'll be the last to admit I'm wrong.
I pick fights when I feeling like I'm being put down.
I'm an instigator and a troublemaker.
I have terrible handwriting.
I hate dusting and my ironing sucks.


But if you can look past all that and let me in...


I'll love you with my whole heart.
I'll smile easily and laugh quickly.
I'll hug you often and dance for no reason.
I'll be happiest when enjoying the little things in life.
I'll always try to find the bright side of things and I'll never let you cry alone.
I'll buy you things at the store for no reason.
I'll sing silly songs with you in the car and run with you in the rain.
I'll go out of my way to see you.
I'll cook for you and let you have my share of dessert.
I'll answer the phone at 3am when you're on your way home from work and just want to talk.
I'll always give you the benefit of the doubt.
I'll stand up for what I believe in, and I'll stand up for you.
I'll give you all of me.
Always.

ARGH!!

Jenn took me shopping on Sunday, looking to complete an outfit for Melissa's wedding tomorrow. We found a great shirt that I love, but wouldn't have had enough confidence to even lift off the rack if I'd been by myself.
Carolyne gave me a bunch of clothes when she went back to Atlanta this weekend. I really liked some of the stuff, but none of it is big enough to fit me.

I'm so sick of the way I am. I'm tired of this body. Or at least the size...
I hate feeling like a fat slob all the time. I hate dressing in dark hues and men's tees to try and hide my stomach. I hate shopping and putting item after item back on the display because there's no way I could pull off the style.
I. HATE. IT.

So I kept the clothes from Carolyne that I like. I hung them in my closet, and I will fit into them.


That being said...
I'm looking for someone who will kick my ass, not let me get off track, and help whip my ass into shape.

Takers...?

I MUST Be Out Of My Mind...

To the man I can't believe I found myself thinking of right now...


Please tell me why I can't get you out of my head. I would love an explanation. It would mean the world to me if I could figure out why I found myself thinking of you at 2am, right after watching Zack and Miri...a movie that previously made me think of someone completely different.

It's been three years. Three years ago today, we were still together.
After we broke up, it took a full year before I could see you and hang out with you and not feel like we shouldn't be in the same room. It took another year before I truly decided that it was not a good idea for us to be together. And it's taken a third year for me to thoroughly confuse myself further.

Not a good time. That's what I've told myself for the last three years. This isn't the right time for us. Neither of us is ready for this. The timing is just off.
The timing is still off. Neither of us is truly ready to be in the kind of relationship we'd start.
But why am I even thinking about that? Why am I thinking about you?
I don't mean this the way it's going to sound...but you're not what I'm looking for...

I love you dearly. I always will. But...that fire...that oomph...that...that...just isn't there. Not anymore. I don't know if it went away because of everything that happened between us, or because of how I've grown since we've been together. I don't know that it could ever come back. I don't know if I want it to...

I try to tell myself that I keep thinking about you because you're safe. I know you. I know what it's like to be with you. I know how it could be. I know that we're comfortable together and we get along and we have fun and we have a lot of good memories already. I know that, if I just gave you a sign that this is what I wanted, you'd be here faster than I could imagine. I know that this time, you'd treat me right...we'd work things out...we'd make this it.
And...part of me...part of my brain...wonders why I don't just go for it. You've got enough going for you that it wouldn't be a terrible idea...
You've already got the farmhouse in Virginia that I've always dreamed of. I stopped counting how many times you've asked if I want to go there for a vacation or just to move to the country like I've always dreamed. You've got the silly smile and the goofy attitude and the relationship with my family. I can't tell you how often you make me laugh.
Sure, sometimes we bicker. Of course, things aren't always sunshine and roses. Yeah, you were the only one who came frighteningly close to breaking my heart.
But...we always work through it. We get over it. We move on.
And I find myself wondering...why don't I just give you that sign...that green light...that "hey...let's try this again."

And then I remember...
I tried that once. I loved you once. You almost broke my heart.
No, I'm not holding a grudge. It's over. It's done. It's been forgiven, and I still love you and like to see you.
But it happened.

And... You need someone to take care of you. You really do. You need the stereotypical American marriage, where the wife lets the husband think he's in charge, when really she pulls the strings. You need a woman who can handle everything, and let you be the dorky you that you are.
I understand that. That's OK.
But that's not what I want.
I want someone to take care of me. I don't want to be the one in charge. I don't want to be the bookkeeper and the secretary and the boss. And I don't want to run my household. I want my husband to truly be the man of the house. I don't mind making appointments and that sort of thing...but I suck with money. I don't want to deal with it. I want to be able to be the sometimes flighty woman. The one who, sometimes, all you can do is roll your eyes at and say "That's so her..."
And I want to adore my husband. I want to be crazy about him. I want to look at him and feel so incredibly lucky to have him, to feel like...just maybe...I got someone better than I deserve. I want to not be able to keep my hands off him. I want to want him. In every way.
I know these things aren't constant. I know that, because of my passion in every aspect of my life, sometimes I'll want to strangle him just as much as I wanted to kiss him the day before. But...I want the passion to be there...

I'm not saying that you're not great. I'm not saying you're not going to be that guy for someone.
But...when I step back and look at my life...you're not him for me.
In the almost three years since we broke up, I haven't once thought about you and thought "damn...I really want that..." I'm not attracted to you anymore. I don't get butterflies. At all. Ever. My heart never skips a beat when I hear your voice or when I see you.
I know those things fade in time. But it's never there now. And I don't want to start with nothing... Where could it go from there??
Yes, I can close my eyes and see a future for us. I can see us on your farm, with horses and dogs and kids. I can see us being comfortable and happy. But when I open my eyes, that vision is gone. There's never a desire to actually have that future. And that bothers me.

I remind myself of these things every time I think about you. Every time I find myself thinking that maybe the safe and comfortable option is the way to go. Every time I'm on the phone with you and I find a tiny part of myself waiting to hear "I love you" in the pauses. Every time you tell me you're drunk, and I text you, begging you to be safe and smart.

For the most part, I get it. I mean...this is me...this is my life. Who better than ME to know what I want.
Sure, my brain thinks this might be a completely viable option. But my heart isn't in it at all. And...isn't this the one thing that they need to be together on?
A relationship with you isn't it. I know that. Deep down, I think I've always known that.

But what I don't know is why I can't get you out of my head...


~ Kim

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...

A Bit Delayed...

So...the new keyboard Crystal and Joe got me... The one that malfunctioned right away and then they kept delaying sending to me, so I gave up on it? Yeah...finally got it today.
:-P

I Know There's A Thought Rolling Around There Somewhere...

Well, it's Wednesday night, and I'm sitting in the cafe. Waiting for the Open Mic night to start. Did I mention it's 7:43, and it officially starts at 7:30? And the only two people here (aside from me) are the MC and his friend?
It's ok...I'm enjoying the "quiet" time. The guys are just playing their guitars and jamming and adjusting the sound levels, and it's making nice background noise. Drowning out my own mind.
Because, between not having a job, having credit people NOT GET that I don't have money to give them, the whole Gary drama driving me up a wall (OK, so that one is mostly just me overreacting because I know exactly how precarious my own emotional stance is), living with my parents, not knowing where I'll be living in a few months, and having serious thoughts about taking on more responsibilities at the congregation, I'm going insane.

I'm also not feeling 100% today. I've been half-dizzy, half-nauseous all day. Not enough of either to do anything about it, but just enough of both to make being completely relaxed just out of reach.

Oops... One other woman just walked in.
I hate feeling obligated to talk to people... Not that I don't like people... I just hate that forced conversation that happens when you're the only ones in the room and don't want to be rude.


There's honestly not too much on my mind that I care to put down. I'm just trying to get back in to the habit of blogging every day or every other day. The goal is to eventually open up...keep a real journal... We'll see how that goes.
For now, I'm just sitting here, trying desperately to resist crawling up and sleeping on the sofa a mere 10 feet away.

Ramblings...

So I've had my "new" keyboard (really Crystal's old one) for two weeks now, and this is my first "Hey, I'm back to real blogging again" post. Because I'm lame.
Oh, and because, in spite of the fact that my life has been chaotic and crazy and far from boring, I feel like I have nothing to blog about.

EXCEPT!! The 3 Doors Down concert with Jackie last Friday was AMAZING!!! I can't even say how good she is to me and how much I appreciate her willingness to buy the tickets and pay for dinner and drive us down there. :-)

And... I'm starting to feel a lot better about being here. I actually have a semi-opportunity to go back to Tampa this summer/fall (more on that another time), and I'm seriously considering at least crunching numbers and see if it can work. But... I'm not miserable here. Mom and I are actually getting along pretty darn well. Dad's...we'll...he's my Daddy. Nick is definitely becoming the true teenager he is, but I can deal with that. And Pablo's almost never home.
And Jenn has been my saving grace. Honestly. I love my friends in Tampa, don't get me wrong...but I didn't get a lot of girl conversations. There were always guys around. Guys are nice, don't think I'm saying they're not...it's just different when it's just a couple girls spilling everything. And I realize now how much I missed that. How much I needed that. Needed to be able to just talk about myself and my insecurities and guys and love and sex and fears and religion and family and...everything. I honestly have told her things I didn't think I would ever tell anyone...She truly has become my closest friend here, and I can't be happier about it. I haven't had that since Heather lived in CT, and it's one of those things you don't know how much you missed until you get it back. And it's nice to hear another girl talk, too. Not guys...not conversations edited for guys...just girl to girl honesty. (And it's nice to sometimes have her husband around to give me a mature, halfway sane man's opinion on things...when asked. :-P )
I owe my sanity to that girl.
I really don't know what I'll do if/when she moves... (Not that I don't deserve it, after leaving myself...)

So...yeah.
I'm happy. Or at least very much working towards it.

Anyway...sleep has been immensely elusive recently...
And since I'm getting sleepy now, I'm going to try my luck at getting some shut-eye before 3am.

'Night!

Maybe I'm selfish...?

I've been toying with the thought of going back to Union.

Partly because I miss it...my friends, my family. Partly because I want to get out of this house.
But mostly because I almost feel like I owe it to my Grandma.

She'd never, ever say that to me. She's never complained about what she's done for me. She's never accepted any sort of "repayment," and she probably never will.
But in the last 14 months, she's spent easily four grand on me and my move and my bills and my rent and my going to see her for Thanksgiving and, oh right, my other move. And my storage. And the shed so I don't have to keep the storage. And the expense and labor to move things from storage in Tampa into her shed.

Quite frankly, it's embarrassing how much she's supported me throughout the last year, as I called myself an independent person.
And I feel like...after everything she's selflessly and wordlessly done for me...
the very least I can do is go live with her...be with her...give her the one thing I can give her...the only thing she'd accept...my time.


So that's been heavy on my mind lately.


Responses welcome....
:-\

*excuses, excuses*

It's been way too long, I know. And so much has happened that I don't know how I'll ever be able to recap it all...

But "most important" (in regards to why I haven't posted) is that I spilled tea onto my keyboard, and the entire bottom row quit working. So I've spent the last month or so either using the ever-so-efficient "cut and paste" method, or using the on-screen keyboard. Both of which are terribly time-consuming and annoying. So I've avoided writing. Which means I've avoided posting. Hopefully I'll be getting a new keyboard soon. My replacement for my malfunctioning replacement keyboard is supposed to be in the mail. And once I get it, I'll start posting regularly again.

I promise.