Thursday, August 14, 2008
oh my lord
i knew michael jackson's nose was bad, but now it's HIDEOUS. much, much worse than i remembered.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
tall tale
so i was assigned to write a tall tale in seventh grade...and had forgotten all about it till i came across it just now:
"H.D."
One day, as I was sitting in my room, I heard the strangest, most nerve-wracking noise I had ever heard. I peeked out my door. The hair began to rise on the back of my neck. Goosebumps covered my body. There, at the top of the stairs, its body glowing in the dark gloomy shadows, rose the Huge...Deranged...Slinky.
I tried to flatten myself against the wall, mortified of its horrid intentions, praying that it hadn't caught a glimpse of my flattened form. As I listened closely, I could hear metallic whirring of the slinky's cold, steel spirals as it began its terrorizing descent. Slowly it came, inch by inch, carpet strand by carpet strand, dodging the dust bunnies along its crooked path.
I had just enough time to snatch my arctic-proof, thermal insulated, fire-proof Barbie sleeping bag. The slinky took one look at the life-sized fake smile and began writhing in pain. Then it began gagging and retching and suddenly, to my great surprise, it spontaneously combusted, leaving only a puff of smoke and a few sparks.
My only proof of the Huge Deranged Slinky's existence are the few singed fibers left in the carpet of the third step.
my teacher (my QUEST teacher, of all teachers--QUEST was the smart kid program) didn't like it all that much, but even now i laughed out loud reading it. i'll admit i'm strange, and writing this in seventh grade was probably stranger still. but damn, son, that was funny.
yes. i am insane. but you laughed, didn't you?
"H.D."
One day, as I was sitting in my room, I heard the strangest, most nerve-wracking noise I had ever heard. I peeked out my door. The hair began to rise on the back of my neck. Goosebumps covered my body. There, at the top of the stairs, its body glowing in the dark gloomy shadows, rose the Huge...Deranged...Slinky.
I tried to flatten myself against the wall, mortified of its horrid intentions, praying that it hadn't caught a glimpse of my flattened form. As I listened closely, I could hear metallic whirring of the slinky's cold, steel spirals as it began its terrorizing descent. Slowly it came, inch by inch, carpet strand by carpet strand, dodging the dust bunnies along its crooked path.
I had just enough time to snatch my arctic-proof, thermal insulated, fire-proof Barbie sleeping bag. The slinky took one look at the life-sized fake smile and began writhing in pain. Then it began gagging and retching and suddenly, to my great surprise, it spontaneously combusted, leaving only a puff of smoke and a few sparks.
My only proof of the Huge Deranged Slinky's existence are the few singed fibers left in the carpet of the third step.
my teacher (my QUEST teacher, of all teachers--QUEST was the smart kid program) didn't like it all that much, but even now i laughed out loud reading it. i'll admit i'm strange, and writing this in seventh grade was probably stranger still. but damn, son, that was funny.
yes. i am insane. but you laughed, didn't you?
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
for god (or, you know, whoever) and the world to see
i read the simple dollar today, and decided that my "gazingus pin" is clothes...i splurge on clothes WAY more often than i should, and it's not good. i wondered exactly how much, so here goes...
the rationale behind the splurges usually goes something like this: "my work clothes are old...and unfashionable...and my office is pretty trendy...and you never know when you will or won't find stuff that you actually like...so i should get this now while i like something in the store!"
sigh.
i realized today while thinking over the "gazingus pin" idea that i have spent (brace yourself) $1,751.48 on clothes over the last 19 months. (not including the approximately 100 bucks still on my banana republic card, or any clothing that went onto credit cards the first half of last year. i can't remember if i had quit using the credit card at that point or not). Mostly at banana republic and target. dudes, that is 92.18 PER MONTH. a used car. part of an emergency fund or a down payment on a house. 44 meals out. EIGHT MONTHS of groceries. or, nearly a week of life energy. 146 hours. one hundred forty six hours of my life working to pay for CLOTHES.
oh my lord. i am disgusted and horrified at myself.
hey, at least i have lots of cute clothes (1751.48 dollars worth!) to wear for the next year while i DON'T BUY ANY FREAKING CLOTHES. grimace.
the rationale behind the splurges usually goes something like this: "my work clothes are old...and unfashionable...and my office is pretty trendy...and you never know when you will or won't find stuff that you actually like...so i should get this now while i like something in the store!"
sigh.
i realized today while thinking over the "gazingus pin" idea that i have spent (brace yourself) $1,751.48 on clothes over the last 19 months. (not including the approximately 100 bucks still on my banana republic card, or any clothing that went onto credit cards the first half of last year. i can't remember if i had quit using the credit card at that point or not). Mostly at banana republic and target. dudes, that is 92.18 PER MONTH. a used car. part of an emergency fund or a down payment on a house. 44 meals out. EIGHT MONTHS of groceries. or, nearly a week of life energy. 146 hours. one hundred forty six hours of my life working to pay for CLOTHES.
oh my lord. i am disgusted and horrified at myself.
hey, at least i have lots of cute clothes (1751.48 dollars worth!) to wear for the next year while i DON'T BUY ANY FREAKING CLOTHES. grimace.
Monday, August 04, 2008
cross purposes
so i've been looking for a house for almost a year. the saga so far:
found a short sale. it was a little more than i wanted to pay for a house (180k), but i put in an offer anyway since i had 2 guaranteed roommates for a year. waited FOUR MONTHS for bank to approve it, seller went bankrupt before short sale approved. (in retrospect, thank god. that price was a bit too high).
found a brick ranch fixer upper a couple miles south of where i really wanted to be. 4 bed/2 bath for 45k, in decent shape. (that, to me, represents rock-bottom, or close to it, of the atlanta market). put in offer for asking. lost it to (presumably) an investor.
first short sale house came back on market as a foreclosure for a lower price. put in offer, above asking, but still not as much as before. the next day, the bank sends notice that we need to send highest and best offer because there are already SIX OFFERS...and it's only been on the multiple listing service (on the market) for less than 24 hours. go up to originally under-contract price (grudgingly). face the fact that i've probably just lost the first house i ever loved (insert sad music here), but also grateful that i'm not going to be spending that much money.
find another house, in the location that i want, for ~80k. needs a small amount of work or can do a more major renovation before move-in and have a freaking awesome space. either way, still will have <=140k in the house, which i am FAR more comfortable with than the 180k for the first house. put in offer for 85 (with 3k in closing to be paid by seller). receive notice that there will be multiple offers and need best and final. up it to 91,725 (with closing costs by seller) and hope.
that's where i am right now. this house feels right. there's an upstairs area that is currently two attic bedrooms (will become one bedroom, large closet, and large master bath). it feels like a little treehouse up there, so cute! and downstairs is a compact floor plan with 2 bedrooms and a bath, kitchen, dining room, living room, and back deck. all brick exterior, big yard with fence. feels very not-so-big-house-ish. big magnolia tree in front yard. on a street with well-taken care of houses in the location that i want, and very close to publix and the interstate. in short, i can see myself there for a good 10 to 15 years, as long as i don't accumulate a crapload of STUFF. which i plan on not doing. :)
also, within the area that i want to be, i am in one of the sub-areas that doesn't yet have the majority of homes rehabbed. so as an investment, i'm either one of the frontier people (and will therefore make more money when others follow) or i do it and no one follows (but there are a couple already rehabbed, so i'm pretty sure that won't happen). and i'd be okay either way, price wise and neighborhood wise. so all in all, i really hope the hunt is over. i will find out wednesday or so. cross your fingers!
the reason for the title of this post: i think my realtor and i have different purposes for this house. i see it as a space that i'm happy with, that i can be happy with for years to come, and that i can afford comfortably while still having enough room for a family. realtor sees it as an investment, and has in mind a certain amount that i need to make off this deal in order for it to be worthwhile. (the assumption, i think, is that i will want a bigger and therefore better and more expensive house in a few years and this "instant equity" is the way to do it, which is not entirely true. if i'm happy there, i'm staying, because then i can use extra money for travel and fun). this perspective, though, is good and bad...it's nice to have someone watching out for my equity, but at a point, i keep losing houses because if i offer above a certain amount, i don't make the "magic number" on it.
so for this one, i offered a little more than the realtor suggested, in the hopes that i might prevail. and while i'm giving up some instant equity, i'm not banking on the instant equity being there in the first place--it's just a home for me, a haven, at a price i am ok with and with the intention of living there for a long time. if i make money, great, if not, at least i have a really cute home that i love and want to live in!
all in all, i am very, very glad that my realtor is who he/she is. i trust this person implicitly because they are above all a friend (and i know there is commission to be made off me, but the person's main income isn't from homebuyers, they just do this because it is their passion to find people homes and make them instant equity--they are actually pushing me NOT to spend as much money). also, every action is explained, reasons are logical, and no question i have regarding the process, prices, reasoning, etc. is off limits with this person.
it's been an interesting year. i have gained A LOT from the process, though, because the process was somewhat atypical: we began by driving around many different neighborhoods in the area, and comparing what you can get for what price in what area. after several months of this, i was asked which neighborhoods were my favorites. my choices? cabbagetown, old fourth ward, and east atlanta village. two were out of my (self-imposed, not the bank's estimate) price range for amount of space and the condition that i desired, so that was easy. the most valuable part of the experience, though, to me, was learning the city. i know where most, if not all, of the neighborhoods in atlanta are. in more than half of them, i know which areas are safe versus not-so-safe, where the good food is (cause come on, y'all, good food is one of my top priorities in life), and the general feel of the residents. i fell in love with the city (cities in general, this one in particular), made a friend who is now among my closest friends, and learned a LOT about real estate. (never mind the fact that it has always fascinated me and secretly i've always wanted to be a realtor and interior designer). it also took (takes?) my mind off my somewhat depressing current apartment. AND, i like looking at houses even when i'm NOT going to buy one--sometimes when we were young, my family used to drive around on saturdays looking at houses (where i lived, they were generally left open for much of the construction process, allowing for us to wander in freely). it's great cheap entertainment, and good for when you actually do look at houses for real, because then you have an idea of floor plans/finishes/etc that you really like and think would flow well.
i love houses, homes, interior design, and making my space fit me and feel good. i also love helping other people express themselves through their spaces (helped my BFF decide on curtains for her classroom, and i think she will be really happy with them and enjoy them a lot!) here's to hoping i have that in my own life again soon. :)
found a short sale. it was a little more than i wanted to pay for a house (180k), but i put in an offer anyway since i had 2 guaranteed roommates for a year. waited FOUR MONTHS for bank to approve it, seller went bankrupt before short sale approved. (in retrospect, thank god. that price was a bit too high).
found a brick ranch fixer upper a couple miles south of where i really wanted to be. 4 bed/2 bath for 45k, in decent shape. (that, to me, represents rock-bottom, or close to it, of the atlanta market). put in offer for asking. lost it to (presumably) an investor.
first short sale house came back on market as a foreclosure for a lower price. put in offer, above asking, but still not as much as before. the next day, the bank sends notice that we need to send highest and best offer because there are already SIX OFFERS...and it's only been on the multiple listing service (on the market) for less than 24 hours. go up to originally under-contract price (grudgingly). face the fact that i've probably just lost the first house i ever loved (insert sad music here), but also grateful that i'm not going to be spending that much money.
find another house, in the location that i want, for ~80k. needs a small amount of work or can do a more major renovation before move-in and have a freaking awesome space. either way, still will have <=140k in the house, which i am FAR more comfortable with than the 180k for the first house. put in offer for 85 (with 3k in closing to be paid by seller). receive notice that there will be multiple offers and need best and final. up it to 91,725 (with closing costs by seller) and hope.
that's where i am right now. this house feels right. there's an upstairs area that is currently two attic bedrooms (will become one bedroom, large closet, and large master bath). it feels like a little treehouse up there, so cute! and downstairs is a compact floor plan with 2 bedrooms and a bath, kitchen, dining room, living room, and back deck. all brick exterior, big yard with fence. feels very not-so-big-house-ish. big magnolia tree in front yard. on a street with well-taken care of houses in the location that i want, and very close to publix and the interstate. in short, i can see myself there for a good 10 to 15 years, as long as i don't accumulate a crapload of STUFF. which i plan on not doing. :)
also, within the area that i want to be, i am in one of the sub-areas that doesn't yet have the majority of homes rehabbed. so as an investment, i'm either one of the frontier people (and will therefore make more money when others follow) or i do it and no one follows (but there are a couple already rehabbed, so i'm pretty sure that won't happen). and i'd be okay either way, price wise and neighborhood wise. so all in all, i really hope the hunt is over. i will find out wednesday or so. cross your fingers!
the reason for the title of this post: i think my realtor and i have different purposes for this house. i see it as a space that i'm happy with, that i can be happy with for years to come, and that i can afford comfortably while still having enough room for a family. realtor sees it as an investment, and has in mind a certain amount that i need to make off this deal in order for it to be worthwhile. (the assumption, i think, is that i will want a bigger and therefore better and more expensive house in a few years and this "instant equity" is the way to do it, which is not entirely true. if i'm happy there, i'm staying, because then i can use extra money for travel and fun). this perspective, though, is good and bad...it's nice to have someone watching out for my equity, but at a point, i keep losing houses because if i offer above a certain amount, i don't make the "magic number" on it.
so for this one, i offered a little more than the realtor suggested, in the hopes that i might prevail. and while i'm giving up some instant equity, i'm not banking on the instant equity being there in the first place--it's just a home for me, a haven, at a price i am ok with and with the intention of living there for a long time. if i make money, great, if not, at least i have a really cute home that i love and want to live in!
all in all, i am very, very glad that my realtor is who he/she is. i trust this person implicitly because they are above all a friend (and i know there is commission to be made off me, but the person's main income isn't from homebuyers, they just do this because it is their passion to find people homes and make them instant equity--they are actually pushing me NOT to spend as much money). also, every action is explained, reasons are logical, and no question i have regarding the process, prices, reasoning, etc. is off limits with this person.
it's been an interesting year. i have gained A LOT from the process, though, because the process was somewhat atypical: we began by driving around many different neighborhoods in the area, and comparing what you can get for what price in what area. after several months of this, i was asked which neighborhoods were my favorites. my choices? cabbagetown, old fourth ward, and east atlanta village. two were out of my (self-imposed, not the bank's estimate) price range for amount of space and the condition that i desired, so that was easy. the most valuable part of the experience, though, to me, was learning the city. i know where most, if not all, of the neighborhoods in atlanta are. in more than half of them, i know which areas are safe versus not-so-safe, where the good food is (cause come on, y'all, good food is one of my top priorities in life), and the general feel of the residents. i fell in love with the city (cities in general, this one in particular), made a friend who is now among my closest friends, and learned a LOT about real estate. (never mind the fact that it has always fascinated me and secretly i've always wanted to be a realtor and interior designer). it also took (takes?) my mind off my somewhat depressing current apartment. AND, i like looking at houses even when i'm NOT going to buy one--sometimes when we were young, my family used to drive around on saturdays looking at houses (where i lived, they were generally left open for much of the construction process, allowing for us to wander in freely). it's great cheap entertainment, and good for when you actually do look at houses for real, because then you have an idea of floor plans/finishes/etc that you really like and think would flow well.
i love houses, homes, interior design, and making my space fit me and feel good. i also love helping other people express themselves through their spaces (helped my BFF decide on curtains for her classroom, and i think she will be really happy with them and enjoy them a lot!) here's to hoping i have that in my own life again soon. :)
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
not the only one
who thinks that regular, expected parental handouts are cheesy...
When Should Parents Stop Paying the Rent?
note: this doesn't apply to people who LIVE with their parents and help out, and are doing so to get on their feet financially and whatnot. it's completely different to expect your parents to pay for your shopping sprees or rent for a(n) (much fancier than you could or would afford alone) apartment so that you can go out all the time and blow your own money on whatever you want.
When Should Parents Stop Paying the Rent?
note: this doesn't apply to people who LIVE with their parents and help out, and are doing so to get on their feet financially and whatnot. it's completely different to expect your parents to pay for your shopping sprees or rent for a(n) (much fancier than you could or would afford alone) apartment so that you can go out all the time and blow your own money on whatever you want.
Financial Frustrations
I've been using Mint.com for almost a year, and it's been great--UNTIL today, when I noticed that nearly ALL of my transactions from when I began using it (last October) up until recently (April) are duplicated at least once, sometimes twice. Apparently, Mint would download transactions from my Suntrust account, INCLUDING the pending ones that just showed up as Check Card Transaction or ATM Withdrawal (whether it was actually ATM or not, which it usually isn't b/c I rarely use cash). Then, AFTER they weren't pending anymore, it would download them AGAIN with the real merchant name and category. I can't really figure out how to fix this, especially since sometimes when I click to "exclude from Mint" it doesn't actually exclude it. Not to mention that it is a royal pain in the ASS to look for all the restaurant charges that pended as one amount, then pended as another amount (bill plus tip) then finally went through with the tip amount.
I'm thinking about cancelling, because I keep track of all my expenditures/earnings in excel anyway, and who needs fancy charts and graphs if they're WRONG? I guess it might still be good as far as tracking your daily balances on credit cards/investment accounts/savings/checking/loans, but i can just go to their websites to do that.
What's the point of an "easy" software if it's actually more of a pain in my ass than manually entering everything into excel?? Geez. GAH.
I'm thinking about cancelling, because I keep track of all my expenditures/earnings in excel anyway, and who needs fancy charts and graphs if they're WRONG? I guess it might still be good as far as tracking your daily balances on credit cards/investment accounts/savings/checking/loans, but i can just go to their websites to do that.
What's the point of an "easy" software if it's actually more of a pain in my ass than manually entering everything into excel?? Geez. GAH.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
i am the most impatient person i know (aka FRUSTRATION)
but i'm trying. so hard. and i'm having a really hard time in general. sally's thoughts about self-care versus self-control seem key right now. but oh my lord.
if i were practicing self-care, i'd quit school.
if i were practicing self-care, i'd find a job at which i like the WORK as well as the people.
i'd sleep more.
i'd cook more, and get a dishwasher.
i'd read more.
i'd take time for ME instead of letting everything and everyone come first. i've been bad about this in the past; i suppose this is just a relapse. there's just soo much to do and no time. school is pretty much the bane of my existence right now. if i am being honest with myself, i hate it. i hate that i can't come home and do what i want in the evenings, i hate that my "success" depends on someone else's interpretation of what i do and someone else's rules, i hate that i feel like i've learned next to nothing new from undergrad, i hate that it has turned into nothing but an expensive piece of paper and a pay raise to me. basically, it's just a hassle. a royal pain in the ass. most of all, i HATE the CONSTANT, INCESSANT stress of homeworks hanging over my head that are stupid but time consuming. there's never EVER a break from the damned homework. i don't even think i can adequately express just how much it grates on me. but i feel like i have to finish because i'm okay at it and i want to be "successful" and i want to make more money eventually. what ever happened to interesting, new things learned? what is the point of a freaking master's degree if all it is is repetition of the same old SHIT that i have ALREADY DONE? new shit, please. yes, over here. k thanks.
also, i would REALLY like to not live in my apartment anymore, but i'm too stubborn to give up on a house. at some point i'll cave in one direction or another. or explode.
finances are a constant burden as well. i'm making progress, but it's so SLOW. so. slow. and my work STILL hasn't reimbursed the 50% of tuition from spring semester. and i have to pay fall tuition in a matter of weeks. i have (barely) enough saved for the full amount, but that would pretty much wipe out my emergency fund at this point. with them reimbursing enough to pay half, that would be a HUGE relief.
and i keep incrementally, slowly, gaining weight. this galls me. but with my insane schedule, shitty kitchen, and extreme lack of motivation, it's not going to get any better anytime soon.
i haven't been getting enough sleep the past two weeks. i think that has a lot to do with my attitude right now. i'm constantly tired and cranky but can't fucking go to sleep earlier because there's ________ that needs doing before i can go to sleep. (fill in blank with: homework, laundry, cooking, shopping--groceries and cat food, cleaning, errands, obligations, etc.)
oh yeah, and i got rear-ended thursday. ugh. i wish people would GTFA from my car.
i don't feel any better after having released all this. i just want to go cry. no end. it never freaking ends. i sense a good frustration-cry coming on.
if i were practicing self-care, i'd quit school.
if i were practicing self-care, i'd find a job at which i like the WORK as well as the people.
i'd sleep more.
i'd cook more, and get a dishwasher.
i'd read more.
i'd take time for ME instead of letting everything and everyone come first. i've been bad about this in the past; i suppose this is just a relapse. there's just soo much to do and no time. school is pretty much the bane of my existence right now. if i am being honest with myself, i hate it. i hate that i can't come home and do what i want in the evenings, i hate that my "success" depends on someone else's interpretation of what i do and someone else's rules, i hate that i feel like i've learned next to nothing new from undergrad, i hate that it has turned into nothing but an expensive piece of paper and a pay raise to me. basically, it's just a hassle. a royal pain in the ass. most of all, i HATE the CONSTANT, INCESSANT stress of homeworks hanging over my head that are stupid but time consuming. there's never EVER a break from the damned homework. i don't even think i can adequately express just how much it grates on me. but i feel like i have to finish because i'm okay at it and i want to be "successful" and i want to make more money eventually. what ever happened to interesting, new things learned? what is the point of a freaking master's degree if all it is is repetition of the same old SHIT that i have ALREADY DONE? new shit, please. yes, over here. k thanks.
also, i would REALLY like to not live in my apartment anymore, but i'm too stubborn to give up on a house. at some point i'll cave in one direction or another. or explode.
finances are a constant burden as well. i'm making progress, but it's so SLOW. so. slow. and my work STILL hasn't reimbursed the 50% of tuition from spring semester. and i have to pay fall tuition in a matter of weeks. i have (barely) enough saved for the full amount, but that would pretty much wipe out my emergency fund at this point. with them reimbursing enough to pay half, that would be a HUGE relief.
and i keep incrementally, slowly, gaining weight. this galls me. but with my insane schedule, shitty kitchen, and extreme lack of motivation, it's not going to get any better anytime soon.
i haven't been getting enough sleep the past two weeks. i think that has a lot to do with my attitude right now. i'm constantly tired and cranky but can't fucking go to sleep earlier because there's ________ that needs doing before i can go to sleep. (fill in blank with: homework, laundry, cooking, shopping--groceries and cat food, cleaning, errands, obligations, etc.)
oh yeah, and i got rear-ended thursday. ugh. i wish people would GTFA from my car.
i don't feel any better after having released all this. i just want to go cry. no end. it never freaking ends. i sense a good frustration-cry coming on.
Monday, July 14, 2008
caleb
it was my seventh-grade year, and it was cold outside. a few weeks prior, my mom had offhandedly--all too casually offhandedly--mentioned that one of the other teachers at her school had a son and that she thought we should talk. at the time i had rolled my eyes, but even in seventh grade, i took relationships seriously. i took everything seriously even though i rarely showed it.
so anyway. that cold day, we were getting various yearbook pictures for groups taken, and the academic team was called to have a picture taken. that was the first time i'd really met him. he and his (goofy) friend were behind me in the picture, and for some reason that picture took an ungodly amount of time to take. or maybe i was just experiencing time dilation. whatever. i attempted to flirt with him, but i couldn't really tell if he was interested.
eventually (toward the end of that year), i snared him. we "went out" for a few months. it was the first relationship that had any sort of physicality beyond hand holding for me (with the exception of a bad tonsil hockey experience that i don't care to remember). it was the first time there was anything beyond just like. it was a confusing, exciting, delicious, tingly feeling, this feeling that i'd never felt before. i decided i really liked caleb, and i really liked necking. (it was really making out, but i like the word 'necking' so much better. it sounds classier. as if seventh-graders needed to be classy).
my junior year in high school, the band went on a cruise to the bahamas. randomly one day before we left, he asked me if i'd be his date for "formal night" on the cruise. of COURSE i said yes. i don't really remember much about formal night, but i do remember being really excited before it, and the dreamlike feeling that surrounded it. the next day we spent the entire day on cocoa key together (him refusing to put on sunscreen and then getting burnt PURPLE) and were inseparable for about a week. then he left for college.
my senior year in high school, i received a letter. it was one of the nicest, most wonderful letters i'd ever gotten. i forgave, and again we were together. that was the first time i'd ever woken up next to anyone, and the feeling was indescribably wonderful. time went on and things were wonderful, then okay for a while, then started to slide downhill. thirteen months later, we fell apart...it was a difficult time for both of us~i was in athens in college and lonely, and he was in carrollton, unsure of what he wanted from life.
january of my sophomore year in college, we took the plunge yet again. (are you sensing a pattern here yet?) that time was the best so far, and he moved to athens in the fall. i spent that first year and a half in a state of bliss--but i failed to see that he was becoming withdrawn, quiet, depressed. he moved back to carrollton, and i was devastated. i struggled to forgive him and not panic, he struggled with not wanting a family but still loving me...three and a half years after that january, he said he didn't want a family. which automatically precluded having me. we couldn't let go, though, and were on and off for about another year. finally, i broke. i couldn't do it anymore. couldn't see him, couldn't be with him, couldn't speak to him. i needed the separation in order to not lose myself. i needed it to be able to let go and move on and figure out what the hell i wanted from my life. i struggled with thinking it had all been for nothing, struggled with letting go. eventually, i was down to breaking down only a couple times a month instead of a couple times a day. finally, i could go through whole days without thinking about it or him. i threw myself into my life--my friends, my work, my fun, and my school. i tried to date again.
then i got a text message that, though i didn't know it at the time, would be life-changing. he wanted to talk. i decided i could probably get through the conversation. i steeled myself, thinking, "i won't take him back." (yeah, i was a little conceited, sure that was what he wanted).
that tuesday night, february 19th, he came over. i was nervous; i kept my distance. he was on one end of the couch, i was on the other. i could see him gathering his will, thinking of how he wanted to start. he began, and talked, and talked and talked. two hours of the talking. this from the man who didn't talk much, didn't share himself, who possessed an impenetrable wall he'd spent years building up. i was stunned. utterly shocked. you see, the things that he said were things that, even after being friends with him and dating off and on for nine years, i'd never known. i could see the wall crumbling down, stone by stone, and the effort it was taking for him to do it. my heart went out to him. i wanted to hug him, wanted to make it easier for him. but i didn't know where he was going with it and so, wary, i stayed on my end of the couch.
the things he said explained a lot, and the background information filled in a lot of gaps and i finally understood, mostly, why he was the way he was. but the change in outlook, the things he now believed were important, the things he wanted out of life...they were things that, had they been choreographed, couldn't have been better suited to make me reconsider my adamant self warning. could i go another round? did i even want to? most of all, could i really believe him if i wanted to? i wasn't sure. i cried on his chest for a while, hugging him tightly. finally, i looked up and asked, "so what now?"
he shrugged. i was all, "well, what did you picture happening?"
he shrugged again, and made motions with his fingers that suggested he thought i'd be like, "okay, that's nice, see you around sometime." like i'd make him leave.
i thought about it. thought hard. wondered if i had it in me to give it a go. wondered if i should give him the benefit of the doubt yet again. considered whether it would be worth it even if we failed. thought that it might be worth it just to know what being a team, with his full participation, would be like. considered the fact that never, ever, had he shared that much of himself with anyone. ANYONE. i think that was what finally convinced me.
i took the plunge, told him we could try. again. and strangely, this time, it felt like i wasn't falling off the cliff alone. finally.
i still can't believe it sometimes, and it's been five months (has it really been five months? this pure bliss, it feels like it's been days, maybe weeks, but months? nah...) i look at him next to me in the car, and i pinch myself. i smile at him across the table, and his answering smile makes my heart thud. i ask a question, and his answer is in-depth, with a tone of voice that suggests no resentment for the question being asked. he doesn't guard his privacy like i'm trying to invade it...i think that was and is the biggest shock. in a good way. things that we do are OUR decisions now--we work as a team instead of at cross-purposes, we plan together. in short, i've got his back. and he has mine. and that is the greatest feeling in the world.
andrew caleb stephens, i love you.
so anyway. that cold day, we were getting various yearbook pictures for groups taken, and the academic team was called to have a picture taken. that was the first time i'd really met him. he and his (goofy) friend were behind me in the picture, and for some reason that picture took an ungodly amount of time to take. or maybe i was just experiencing time dilation. whatever. i attempted to flirt with him, but i couldn't really tell if he was interested.
eventually (toward the end of that year), i snared him. we "went out" for a few months. it was the first relationship that had any sort of physicality beyond hand holding for me (with the exception of a bad tonsil hockey experience that i don't care to remember). it was the first time there was anything beyond just like. it was a confusing, exciting, delicious, tingly feeling, this feeling that i'd never felt before. i decided i really liked caleb, and i really liked necking. (it was really making out, but i like the word 'necking' so much better. it sounds classier. as if seventh-graders needed to be classy).
my junior year in high school, the band went on a cruise to the bahamas. randomly one day before we left, he asked me if i'd be his date for "formal night" on the cruise. of COURSE i said yes. i don't really remember much about formal night, but i do remember being really excited before it, and the dreamlike feeling that surrounded it. the next day we spent the entire day on cocoa key together (him refusing to put on sunscreen and then getting burnt PURPLE) and were inseparable for about a week. then he left for college.
my senior year in high school, i received a letter. it was one of the nicest, most wonderful letters i'd ever gotten. i forgave, and again we were together. that was the first time i'd ever woken up next to anyone, and the feeling was indescribably wonderful. time went on and things were wonderful, then okay for a while, then started to slide downhill. thirteen months later, we fell apart...it was a difficult time for both of us~i was in athens in college and lonely, and he was in carrollton, unsure of what he wanted from life.
january of my sophomore year in college, we took the plunge yet again. (are you sensing a pattern here yet?) that time was the best so far, and he moved to athens in the fall. i spent that first year and a half in a state of bliss--but i failed to see that he was becoming withdrawn, quiet, depressed. he moved back to carrollton, and i was devastated. i struggled to forgive him and not panic, he struggled with not wanting a family but still loving me...three and a half years after that january, he said he didn't want a family. which automatically precluded having me. we couldn't let go, though, and were on and off for about another year. finally, i broke. i couldn't do it anymore. couldn't see him, couldn't be with him, couldn't speak to him. i needed the separation in order to not lose myself. i needed it to be able to let go and move on and figure out what the hell i wanted from my life. i struggled with thinking it had all been for nothing, struggled with letting go. eventually, i was down to breaking down only a couple times a month instead of a couple times a day. finally, i could go through whole days without thinking about it or him. i threw myself into my life--my friends, my work, my fun, and my school. i tried to date again.
then i got a text message that, though i didn't know it at the time, would be life-changing. he wanted to talk. i decided i could probably get through the conversation. i steeled myself, thinking, "i won't take him back." (yeah, i was a little conceited, sure that was what he wanted).
that tuesday night, february 19th, he came over. i was nervous; i kept my distance. he was on one end of the couch, i was on the other. i could see him gathering his will, thinking of how he wanted to start. he began, and talked, and talked and talked. two hours of the talking. this from the man who didn't talk much, didn't share himself, who possessed an impenetrable wall he'd spent years building up. i was stunned. utterly shocked. you see, the things that he said were things that, even after being friends with him and dating off and on for nine years, i'd never known. i could see the wall crumbling down, stone by stone, and the effort it was taking for him to do it. my heart went out to him. i wanted to hug him, wanted to make it easier for him. but i didn't know where he was going with it and so, wary, i stayed on my end of the couch.
the things he said explained a lot, and the background information filled in a lot of gaps and i finally understood, mostly, why he was the way he was. but the change in outlook, the things he now believed were important, the things he wanted out of life...they were things that, had they been choreographed, couldn't have been better suited to make me reconsider my adamant self warning. could i go another round? did i even want to? most of all, could i really believe him if i wanted to? i wasn't sure. i cried on his chest for a while, hugging him tightly. finally, i looked up and asked, "so what now?"
he shrugged. i was all, "well, what did you picture happening?"
he shrugged again, and made motions with his fingers that suggested he thought i'd be like, "okay, that's nice, see you around sometime." like i'd make him leave.
i thought about it. thought hard. wondered if i had it in me to give it a go. wondered if i should give him the benefit of the doubt yet again. considered whether it would be worth it even if we failed. thought that it might be worth it just to know what being a team, with his full participation, would be like. considered the fact that never, ever, had he shared that much of himself with anyone. ANYONE. i think that was what finally convinced me.
i took the plunge, told him we could try. again. and strangely, this time, it felt like i wasn't falling off the cliff alone. finally.
i still can't believe it sometimes, and it's been five months (has it really been five months? this pure bliss, it feels like it's been days, maybe weeks, but months? nah...) i look at him next to me in the car, and i pinch myself. i smile at him across the table, and his answering smile makes my heart thud. i ask a question, and his answer is in-depth, with a tone of voice that suggests no resentment for the question being asked. he doesn't guard his privacy like i'm trying to invade it...i think that was and is the biggest shock. in a good way. things that we do are OUR decisions now--we work as a team instead of at cross-purposes, we plan together. in short, i've got his back. and he has mine. and that is the greatest feeling in the world.
andrew caleb stephens, i love you.
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