Dancing through NC

A good luck sign?

2012-03-02T11:54:00.002-05:00

I've had a savings account entitled "Our Special Day" since Carolina Man and I first became a couple. Presumption much? Or just excellent foresight? In either case, it's a great feeling that I already have a chunk of change stashed away before we even have a date set (although that's probably going to happen next week. Eeeee!)

At the end of the month, if I have any leftover cash, I throw it into the wedding fund. I went to deposit my balance from February, and realized that I now have $7777 in our wedding fund. Four sevens must be good luck, right?

Happy weekend, y'all!

The Ghosts of a Job Past

2012-02-29T16:55:00.001-05:00

When I first started this blog in the summer of 2009, I was preparing to move to DC and begin a new life. What I never really bothered to mention was what I was leaving, in particular a job that I absolutely despised.

Like most just-out-of-school jobs, mine was crappy for normal reasons: a long-commute, low pay, little creative freedom, and post-academia life confusion. But, on top of that I had the meanest, most manipulative, self-absorbed, deluded psycho of a boss, who seemed to really enjoy making my life miserable. About a month before my departure (and no other job lined up at the time), we had a major blow-up after she mocked something I'd worked hard on. I told her that I absolutely hated coming to work everyday.

Now, a few years later, I realize that it was in part my immaturity that made my job so miserable. But, since leaving that organization, I've seen how my former boss continues to alienate and manipulate her way through her professional life. She and I are on mostly pleasant terms, and she even invites me to participate in some events together. As it turns out, I'm becoming an important player in the field, and I work for a powerful organization. She keeps me in the loop because she needs to. I keep her at a safe, but friendly arm's length if you know what I mean. I feel I'm too early in my career to be burning bridges, even if they're with people I'd rather not cross over to see.

But now, I'm not so sure. I got a truly hysterical email from my old boss, claiming financial ruin and begging for money--and that it was, of course, someone else's fault. As it turns out, the someone else is a dear colleague, and I couldn't believe that this was the whole story. More details have come out since then, and I am finding myself more and more upset that she's throwing this person under the bus. I don't know what is true and what is a lie, but she has stooped to an all-time low to benefit herself.

It's tough to be looped into all of this, and be in the midst of the noise of it all. She's blowing up Twitter, Facebook, the Internet with this stuff, and I just want nothing to do with it. Eventually, I decided to write her a short "I'm sorry" email and let it go. But her requests for money kept coming in, and I started to feel badly for her staff whose jobs are on the line. Finally, I sent her a small donation this morning just to have some peace of mind. It's tax-deductible, and it's money I could afford to give.

I feel a little better now. But most of all, I'm saddened by this implosion in our community. There aren't many people doing what we're doing, and to feel it crumbling apart from the inside is truly a sad thing. I'm just thankful I got out of there, and that for now, I have peace in my job.

Weddomg: First Thoughts on a Budget

2012-02-27T13:08:00.002-05:00

I just discovered while trying to type wedding that if you misplace your right hand on the keyboard by one row of keys to the right that you instead type "weddomg," which I find totally appropriate on many levels. "Weddomg" is a perfect description about how everyone, including myself, goes somewhat, if not entirely, batshit crazy at the mention of a wedding. So, I'm thinking that at least some of my wedding-related posts will be labeled "Weddomg," particularly those that relate to my own craziness or the craziness of others. Today I'll talk about wedding budget craziness, even before we have spent a single penny.

Carolina Man and I are now in the very preliminary stages of wedding planning, i.e. we're going to look at a venue, we're putting together a draft guest list, and we're generally thinking of what time of year we're going to plan for. Oh yeah, and we're piecing together a wedding budget. If you want to make yourself insane in a matter of minutes, start looking at how much weddings cost on average. You'll probably shit yourself and/or start crying.

Even as a newbie, I can say that there's a whole lot to putting together a wedding budget, and there's a helluva lot of unknowns when you haven't begun looking into all of the vendors you'll need. But, we do know approximately how much our venue will be per person, how much the ceremony will be, and for the rest of it, I just googled average costs of wedding shit and put the numbers into a spreadsheet. The amount I saw before my eyes was somewhat shocking. A preliminary estimation of our wedding was about $25K. *gulp*

And then I wasn't so shocked. Weddings are expensive, yo. We knew that going into this. It's about what we'd said we wanted to spend from the beginning, and it's an amount that we can afford to pay out of pocket, if we are able to save as we anticipate (and as he and I both have been saving since we first began our relationship). Yes, it's an awful lot to spend on "one day," but let's be clear here. Celebrations of life and love are important. And I feel as long as we aren't going into debt, nor are we using all of our savings, then we can feel guilt-free in our spending on a day where we'll gather with loved ones to celebrate the new stage of our relationship.

But you got to prioritize. Here are some of the things we care about:

Beautiful, convenient location
Meaningful, personal ceremony
Looking good
Delicious food
Ease of use (i.e. having an all-inclusive package)
Awesome pictures
Unique honeymoon

The things we care less about:

Having everyone we've ever known there (we're thinking 50-60 people)
Favors (probably won't have them)
Tradition
Having a huge bridal party (probably will have a Best Man and a Best Woman because I hate the phrase"Maid of Honor")
DJ
Flowers
Having a theme
Invitations
Putting on a show for our guests

So, if these priorities stay the same, we know we want to spend most of our energy and probably finances on the location, the clothing and rings, the food, the photographer, and the honeymoon.

Yesterday I was still feeling nervous that our designated monthly savings wouldn't be enough to cover things. So, Carolina Man suggested we both commit to saving an extra $200 over what we said we would save each month. In a year, that gives us an extra $5K. And I don't think either of us will miss this as we both got raises this year.

I'm thankful for his calm attitude about all of this, and how on the same page we are about planning this event. And I feel good knowing that we're going to be able to afford the kind of wedding we both want.

Venue on the Menu

2012-02-24T12:19:00.001-05:00

Carolina Man and I have taken a solid month to celebrate our engagement, including a lovely, pre-honeymoon getaway to Playa del Carmen. We've taken all the "OMG, engagement! What's the date?" inquiries in stride, and have mastered the vague "We're not sure yet!" response.

And now we're ready to move on to actually taking the first steps to planning our wedding. Exciting!

At the advice of many friends, both online and offline, I've been perusing the amazing blog, A Practical Wedding, and earlier this week I bought the book for my kindle. One of the first exercises it suggests that you and your partner do together is figure out how you want the wedding to feel. It may sound kind of silly to go through a whole list of adjectives together, but for us, it helped solidify that we're on the same page. Some adjectives we picked were elegant, intimate, meaningful, full of love, and fun. Some we didn't pick were glamorous, boozy, kid-friendly, traditional, and formal.

And, in my practical news, we have booked our first wedding venue site tour for next week! We'll be looking at the place where we got engaged, The Umstead in Cary. The appeals of the place? It's close, it's beautiful, and it's inclusive of a lot of things that we don't want to figure out in a piecemeal fashion.

What are some of the important questions we should ask when we visit?

Will you oblige me while I stand on my soapbox?

2012-02-23T15:18:00.004-05:00

Are you someone who enjoys non-procreative, heterosexual sex? Are you someone who would like to one day partake in non-procreative, heterosexual sex? Do you think all people who enjoy non-procreative, heterosexual sex should have information about and access to contraception, regardless of where they are employed, so that they too may enjoy non-procreative, heterosexual sex and plan their families (if they want kids) for the time when works best for them?

Or, are you one of the 15% of women who use contraceptives for non-contraceptive reasons, like endometriosis? Do you think that women should be able to access contraceptives for these reasons, no matter where they are employed?

Then you should be fucking pissed off at the "religiously"-charged, political conversations going on right now about contraception. PAY CLOSE ATTENTION.

And go read Sandra Fluke's testimony from today.

I went out a limb on Facebook and wrote how much I have to pay out of pocket for my birth control pills ($300 a year for a generic), and I'm insured! I'm fortunate that this is nothing more than a nuisance and not a financial burden. More of us need to speak out.

Oh yeah, and I'd really like to hear more from men, too. Last time I checked women didn't have to worry about preventing unintended pregnancy if they weren't having sex with men.

Tapping into Creativity

2012-02-22T09:19:00.001-05:00

As Carolina Man and I were falling asleep last night, I said to him, "I feel like I need to do more with creativity." It's something I've been thinking about for awhile now. Ever since I graduated and became a "Non-Student,"* I've really been lacking in the creativity department. Most of the creative things I've been part of have been performative and/or community-oriented. But, given the crazy travel schedule I have, I'd really like to find something I can do on my own, on my own time and terms.

But, I really suck at the following:

Drawing straight lines
Painting (even the walls)
Cutting straight lines
Sketching anything
Basically anything artistic that has to do with hand-eye coordination

I have to start thinking outside of the box. I used to have a knack for scrap-booking back in the day, which makes me think I might like doing some kind of collage work with found objects. I have no idea what that would look like, but I like the idea of layering things and piecing things together in interesting ways.

But, I kind of have a fear of the things I make sucking really badly. Then again, as Carolina Man reminded me last night, being creative doesn't have to be for anyone else but me. I can just do it for the sake of doing it, for having the outlet.

Hmm, an interesting concept for me. Not being judged on something I do? That would be a first.

How do you tap into your creativity? I'd especially love to hear from those of you who aren't "artists" in the traditional sense!

*I'm kind of getting tired of referring to myself this way.

Hola, Amigos!

2012-02-20T17:15:00.000-05:00

Carolina Man and I are back, and what better way to be thrust back into reality than a little snow shower on a Sunday evening? I've never been surprised by snow before. Usually if there's even a hint of a possible snowstorm, it seems like the whole world knows about it. Maybe we were still out of touch because of post-vacation brains. But, we opened the door to take Lucy out, and the whole ground was covered!

Hasta luego, sunshine.

In short, we had a fantastic time in Mexico. It was sun, sand, and all-you-can-drink mojitos. Of course, we hit some bumps in the road that now seem really, really petty (i.e. getting bumped from first class on our way there and not being able to find towels by the pool). Even as I type them, I feel like a moron. Seriously, who gets upset about towels? I think it's hard to resist that sense of entitlement when you're paying a lot for a vacation. But, life is life, no matter where you are.

I'll give you a quick review of the Valentin Imperial Maya. Huge resort. Incredibly wonderful staff. Awful food. There you go. I could go on and on about why we didn't like the food, but I won't bore you. I think our lesson learned is that all-inclusives cut corners when it comes to what they're putting in front of you, and that we ended up going for quantity over quality most of the time. And we ate way more meat than we do at home. And drank about eight million times more cocktails.

For our honeymoon, I think we'll look for something smaller and with top-notch cuisine.

All in all, though, we had a fantastic time. I loved that it only took us half a day to get there and back, which really maximized our time relaxing in the sun. And, we got to practice our espanol a good bit. Speaking of which, I'm thinking about taking some classes again. Anyone else feel like a complete dumbass because they can only speak English?

The best part about vacation? Coming home! Seriously, we were so excited to be back at our house and snuggle with our puppy. What a wonderful feeling to want to come home.

Oooooh, Mexico

2012-02-12T20:56:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow Carolina Man and I are taking off for five nights to Playa del Carmen, Mexico! We're considering it a pre-honeymoon.

See you next week, hopefully slightly more tan than now!

A note to the fellow newly engaged and to-be-engaged folks

2012-02-10T09:54:00.001-05:00

I had no idea how crazy people get over weddings. Wells, that's not quite true. I have been known to watch a marathon of Bridezillas, so I did get a sense of how some people get crazy over weddings.
What I did not know was how crazy the people in my own life would get over our wedding. One that Carolina Man and I haven't even begun planning because, oh yeah, we haven't even been engaged for two weeks yet. I'm still completely distracted by my ring. No one in that state of mind could be making decisions about a wedding.

I guess I thought when I told people I got engaged that they'd A) want to see the ring and B) want to hear the proposal story. WRONG. Instead they want A and then skip a few steps to ask when I'm getting married. Literally hours after we were engaged, people wanted to know the date we were going to tie the knot.

I suppose it's a logical question to ask, but it's one that started to get old really, really fast. I've adjusted my responses over time. At first I'd smile and say, "I don't know!" And then after I got asked it about a hundred times, I tried to play the guilt card, "Everyone keeps asking me that, and we just got engaged." Kind of snippy, kind of downer way to respond. Plus, it didn't do any good. The next person would just ask me the same question. And now I just accept their curiosity and say, "Probably sometime next year." Vague, noncommittal, but satisfactory enough that they move on.

Did I mention that my boss is already asking if she can wear a silver dress to the wedding?

What I'm learning is that a lot of people want to live vicariously through my experience, and that means they've got a lot of opinions they want to share with me. What I have to remember is they mean well, but I don't have to take it all to heart.

I just hope that their curiosity doesn't wane too much because when we do actually begin planning, I'm sure I'll be looking for some eager ears to entertain my ideas.

Anyone else experience this kind of interrogation about wedding dates? How did you deal with it?

Worth the Risk

2012-02-08T10:08:00.004-05:00

A few weeks ago, I got an email from a friend of mine in DC. She's not someone I know that well, but she reached out to me about her current situation: she's thinking about moving across the country to a place she's always wanted to move with a guy she met a few months ago. They wouldn't live together, just continue dating. And unsurprisingly, her friends are concerned and therefore not as supportive as she was hoping. She asked what I went through when I moved to NC and any advice I could give her.

This is what I wrote back:

I totally hear what you're saying about your friends not getting it. I think that's because we are all pretty rational about everyone else's lives, but not as much as our own. We consider our emotions and gut feelings when we make decisions about what we're going to do. And it sucks that other people can't feel or relate to those feelings--or even affirm that we have them at all.

I think it's good that friends are looking out for you, but ultimately they can't know what's best for you. Only you know that. The people who care about you in DC want you to stay put, I'm sure. No one is going to say, "Please move across the country!" They love you; they want you around. It's a good thing.

When I met Carolina Man, I knew almost immediately that I would marry him. Everyone thought I was crazy, except for my mom who backed me 100%. That ended up being enough confirmation for me to move forward with the move. I wanted other people to feel excited for me, but after many failed attempts to get that reaction, I finally came to the conclusion that they just weren't going to get it, at least not as quickly as I wanted them to. Everyone thought I was crazy to move for a guy after two months. But, it's turned out to be the best decision I've made in a long time.

I say, go with your gut, and choose carefully whom you bring into your decision-making. You are a beautiful, smart, talented woman, and what's the worst thing that could happen? You move there, hate it, and decide to move somewhere else. So, I'd say if you can handle that and it feels right, then go for it. I think love/adventure/excitement is always worth chasing after. Otherwise we're just living in fear of what we might lose.

I'm not sure what my friend will ultimately decide, but I hope that she makes a decision out of a place of both head and heart, and not out of fear alone.

Engagement Portraits by My Favorite Five-Year-Old

2012-02-07T08:58:00.001-05:00

The day after our engagement, my mom returned home to Georgia. On her way she stopped by my brother's house because apparently my nephew does not understand that Nana sometimes is too tired to play. He overheard my brother and mom talking about our engagement, and he was inspired to draw the following portraits.

This is me.

Please note the ring in the upper right corner.

This is Carolina Man.


He just learned to draw glasses, so he kind of forgot about the body.

Why go to a professional when you have an artist like this in the family?

The Proposal: Part Six...The End

2012-02-06T10:09:00.001-05:00

Did you all think the last post was the end of the engagement story? I can understand why. It did end with the actual proposal, but there's more to the story!

Carolina Man walked me back to our room--a gorgeous suite with a balcony overlooking the place where we'd just gotten engaged. To celebrate he'd scattered rose petals on the floor and had a bottle of Dom Perignon chilling in the fridge. (He later told me that the bottle wouldn't fit in the fridge that was in the room, so management had sent up a larger one. Now that's serious customer service!) As he popped the bottle, I said, "I've never had Dom Perignon before!" And he said, "Me either!"

In between delicious sips of champagne, we stopped to admire the ring. He'd actually had it since before Christmas, but decided not to really look at it until he'd given it to me. Now that is some serious restraint.

With a pleasant buzz, we made our way to the hotel's five-star restaurant. The service was impeccable. The food, however, was a little too fancy for our liking. You know food that's just completely overdressed? Like what they make on Top Chef? That's what it was like. So, we didn't eat much except for the delicious scones in the bread basket. There was a waiter walking around with more of them the whole night, and I think we ate about half a dozen each. And, of course we had more wine, which we ended up having to cork because we couldn't finish all of it.

Tipsy and happy, we made our way back to the room, and happily passed out from such a wonderful day. But, before we fell asleep, I had one more envelope to open.

I know you're wondering what else there might be on this PPD. Well, believe me, the apex of the day was about three hours ago. But assuming you said, "Yes," I have booked us a couple's massage at The Umstead Spa for 9 am tomorrow.

What better way to start off our lives as fiancée and fiancé?

I love you so much!
Carolina Man

The next morning we woke up with no hangover (an engagement miracle) and made our way down to the spa for a relaxing massage before heading home to show my mom the ring.

We had such a wonderful experience at The Umstead that we're thinking about having our wedding there! But for now, we're just enjoying the engagement.

Remembering the Girl

2012-02-04T12:09:00.003-05:00

I don't often talk about my work on this blog, but in all the excitment about my engagement, I've been thinking about how this new stage of my life informs my work advocating for improved maternal health globally. At first glance, they don't seem all that related, but I'm beginning to see the connections more clealy.

I'm 28-years-old. I finished college, graduate school, and have been gainfully employed since graduation. I've been able to travel the country and parts of the world for work and pleasure. I've moved several times. I've been in several long-term relationships that haven't ended in marriage. In general, I've had freedom and opportunity to grow personally and professionally, and to decide when I was ready that I wanted to find a long-term partner to marry. And together we'll decide if and when we want children.

Nearly all of this has been possible because of where I was born.

When I talk about improving maternal health globally, I'm talking about women my age--and girls much younger. I'm talking about girls who aren'table to go to school after eighth grade because their families can't afford it. I'm talking about girls who get married before they're eighteen because their families need dowries to survive. They go on to have several children before they turn twenty because they aren't able to negotiate sex, and they don't have access to contraceptives. And 356,000 die every year giving birth.

I remember dancing with the women in Malawi after they'd graduated from tailoring school. Their husbands were so very proud, and their little ones were excitedly running around, proud to don the beautiful dresses and suits their mothers had made. When I asked them if they were excited to find work selling their creations, they told me with sadness that they couldn't afford their own sewing machines. So, they'd worked hard to learn these skills, but had no way to practice them.

All of this because of where they were born.

It's overwhelming, and easy to get caught up in the guilt of privilege and opportunity. But I won't stay there. This afternoon I'll be speaking to a group of fifty eager activitsts who want to learn how they can help. We'll be making maternal health kits and writing letters to Congress. And I'll be making a microloan on Kiva to support small local projects that can make a huge difference in people's lives. I encourage you to do the same. There are more than fifty opportunities to support sewing projects around the world.

The Proposal: Part Five

2012-02-03T08:07:00.002-05:00

As I sat in the car, I felt tingly and nervous. Where were we going? What was going to happen next?

And then I remembered that I had another envelope!

Are you relaxed? Do you feel gorgeous? Well I'm sure you are whether you feel it or not.

Your next stop is the Umstead Hotel and Spa where we will be having dinner and staying the night. You can read more about the hotel, spa, and restaurant on the enclosed printout.

Make a quick stop at home to drop your Mom off (she's going to watch Lucy) and grab your bags. We have full access to the spa, so be sure you packed a swimsuit.

You should arrive at the hotel around 5 pm. Dinner is at 6:30.

See you soon, baby!

Love,
Carolina Man
I'd heard of the Umstead before. It's one of maybe two five-star hotels in NC, and it's only about 20 minutes away from our house. Of course, as we were driving, 20 minutes seemed to go on forever and ever.
Finally, when we arrived, I said good-bye to our driver ("You look beautiful," he said) and walked into the hotel lobby.

Carolina Man walked in looking awesome in his sport coat. He said, "Why don't I show you the grounds?" We started walking toward the elevator when he said, "Oh, wait" and walked me back to the lobby. "This is the front desk," he said. To which I responded, "Seriously? I have on four inch heels!"

We took the elevator down one level and walked outside to this gorgeous green space with a fountain and trees all behind it. And that was when I noticed how weird CM was acting. I kind of knew this was going to be the moment I'd been waiting for.

He took my hands and told me how much he loves me and why--he loved how smart, articulate, and caring I am. He even said he loves how I am with Lucy! And then he said, "It is without hesitation" (*got down on one knee*) "that I ask if you'll marry me." (Or something like that. It's one of those moments that's so overwhelming it's hard to remember it perfectly.) Of course, I said yes, with tears in my eyes. And then my next comment was "That ring is beautiful!"

And it was. It is. I couldn't have picked out anything more beautiful.

After some tears and some kisses, we turned around and I saw that he'd had someone snapping photos the whole time! That's how we have this one.

Then it was time to celebrate!

The Proposal: Part Four

2012-02-02T06:20:00.000-05:00

After a lovely lunch together, it was time for more pampering. I opened the next card.

Now that your belly is full, it's time to sick back, relax, and be pampered.

Your next stop is Beverly Nails. I'm not sure if it's owend by someone named Beverly or if they're trying to play off "Beverly Hills." You could ask when you get there.

Please used the enclosed gift certificate to get you and your mom deluxe manicures.

Love,
Carolina Man

My mom was really lucking out in this deal! Off we went to get our nails done. I got mine painted a fire engine red to match the dress (and I thought it would look good with a diamond ring, too. Not that I was being presumptuous or anything.)

We had a Legally Blonde-type bonding moment with the other women in the salon. We told them all about the day and how CM had planned surprise after surprise for me. There were lots of "oohs" and "ahhs" in the place.

After our nails were mostly set, we headed back to the house where CM gave me the next envelope.

Your last stop before dinner is the Hair and Face Lounge. But before that, your driver will take you to the house to get ready for tonight. Your mom will come along for the ride.

Your hair appointment (blowout and make-up) is at 3:30, so you should have about an hour to get ready.

Love,
Carolina Man

I was totally getting the royal treatment from head to toe! My stylist Ashley, whom I'd just seem the week before for a cut, was thrilled for me. She actually knew about the appointment that day when I'd come in last week. I'm so impressed she kept the secret! She put me in long, loose curls, and a smoky eye with a red lip. I felt gorgeous.

Mom and I headed back to the house where I slipped into my dress and heels as fast as I could, and headed out the door to meet Carolina Man at our next destination.

The Proposal: Part Three

2012-02-01T08:41:00.001-05:00

Mom and I chatted and giggled the whole way to the mall. She and I hadn't been shopping for a fancy dress since my senior prom, and it's our absolute favorite thing to do. (Eee, I can't wait to go wedding dress shopping!)

Our driver Henderson could not have been more delightful. He insisted on opening our doors, which neither of us ever got used to, and dropped us off with a smile and a promise to return in two hours time.

Two hours to find the perfect dress? If anyone could do it, my mom and I could. We headed straight for our favorite department store. Usually when I shop, I find it nearly impossible to pick up anything that's not on sale. It just feels wrong to buy something full-price when I know everything goes on sale. But, I told myself that I was going to pick the dress I loved the most, no matter the cost. And that I wasn't going to get upset if my normal size didn't fit. (These are two major stressers for me when I shop.)

Mom and I split up to peruse the racks and came back with our favorite contenders: a sexy black dress with a plunging neckline, a high-neck metallic number, and this one.

There was no question that this was the one. I felt gorgeous in it. After a quick trip to the shoe department and Sephora, I had the shoes and lipstick to complete the look. And believe it or not, we still had 45 minutes to spare! That has to be some kind of record.

Time to open PPD Two!

Did we have a nice shopping spree? Did we find a nice evening dress? Well good for us!

All that shopping has undoubtedly made you hungry.

Come across the street and have lunch with me.

Love,
Carolina Man

And a few minutes later, Henderson was there with the car and Carolina Man, and off we were to lunch!

The Proposal: Part Two

2012-01-31T09:08:00.000-05:00

First of all, thank you all for your wonderfully sweet messages of congratulations! It has been overwhelming to receive so much love from you. I couldn't be happier!

After eating one too many chocolate croissants, I opened up the card marked "PPD: One."

It read:

Your first activity of the day is shopping! Your driver will be picking you up at 9am and taking you to Southpointe Mall.

As the day will be ending at a 5-star restaurant, please put on your shopping list a nice evening dress that you can wear tonight.

Please arrange for your driver to pick you up at 11:45 am at which time you can open your next envelope.

Oh, and here's some shopping cash!

Love,
Carolina Man

Shopping? Five-star restaurant? Driver? I was completely overwhelmed! I started tearing up. I couldn't believe by how much thought he'd put into the whole day. He knew I'd want something new and gorgeous to wear for our very special dinner planned.

Through the tears I asked, "Are you coming with me?" I was a little sad when he said that he probably wasn't. I realized that he probably had other things to do, and I knew that no matter what, I was going to enjoy shopping for a dress.

A few minutes later, I heard CM go to the front door. And in walks...MY MOM! I was so overwhelmed and shocked and happy that I burst into tears. (Mom told me later that Carolina Man had tears in his eyes, too.) She gave me a big hug and said, "We're going shopping!"

Once I pulled myself together and cleaned up the streaks of mascara running down my face, we walked outside to find a Lincoln Town Car (my mom kept calling it a "limo" which cracked me up) waiting for us. Carolina Man had booked a driver to take us everywhere we would need to go that day. How spoiled am I?

And off we went to the mall to find the perfect dress for that evening.

The Proposal: Part One

2012-01-30T12:53:00.001-05:00

I gave you all a snippet of the first part of the day, but here's a more detailed account for your reading pleasure. Oh, it's going to be so much fun reliving that day.

If you had a hunch that you were going to be proposed to, would you be able to sleep the night before? I sure couldn't! If you were the one planning to propose, would you be able to sleep the night before? Carolina Man sure couldn't! That means we were both wide awake by 5 am on Saturday morning, and I had over two hours before I could open up my first PPD card of the day.

It read:

My love,

Although this may appear to be a scavenger hunt or a treasure hunt, it is neither. This is what I like to call a P.P.D. or Progressive Pampering Day. I like to call it that because I just made it up and find it to be quite clever.

Today is all about you. I want to show you how special you are to me by giving you a much-deserved "you" day. You will have fun, relax, eat well, and be generally pampered.

The progressive part is that your destinations will be revealed throughout the day vis a vis these envelopes. No peeking!

Get ready, destination one will be revealed right now.

Love,
Carolina Man

I came downstairs to find three plates of chocolate croissants (homemade by Carolina Man, and in milk, semi-sweet, and dark varieties), a pot of hot coffee made just the way I like it, and two beautiful red roses in a vase.

And of course, the next card, which I'll reveal next time!

He put a ring on it!

2012-01-29T15:19:00.005-05:00

I promise the full story will be posted soon! For now, I'm floating...

PPD: Card One

2012-01-28T07:31:00.001-05:00

Good morning! I woke up to a cup of hot coffee and the first envelope with PPD ready to be opened.

It means "Progressive Pampering Day" and it's a day that Carolina Man has planned to take good care of me. I have no idea what I'll be doing, but it'll be a day of relaxation, I'm sure.

More later!

The Mysteries of PPD

2012-01-27T07:55:00.002-05:00

You guys, what do you think PPD means? Here's what I've come up with so far.

Pretty Princess Day
Prissy Pamper Day
Puppy Power Dog
Physical Punishment Doom
Pre-Processing Disaster

Ok, these are all ridiculous. Let me give you the context.

For months, Carolina Man has been playing a weekend getaway for us, and has told me nothing about it other than a few very vague details about what time we'll begin tomorrow (7:30 am) and that our destination is less than two hours away from our house. Then yesterday, he hands me 6-7 sealed envelopes that have the letters "PPD" on them, numbered and with specific times written on them that I will open tomorrow.

I can't believe he's done so much to plan for this special day together! I have no idea what we'll be doing, but I can't wait to find out. And of course, I'll make a full report once I know what's going on!

The #1 Reason (Right Now) I Can't Wait to Get Married

2012-01-25T00:21:00.003-05:00

Because hopefully then all of the sweet church ladies I meet across the country will quit asking me if I want to meet their very handsome grandsons.

*headdesk*

Any takers? I'd be happy to pass your name along next time.

California Girls

2012-01-22T09:40:00.000-05:00

Greetings, loved ones! From...Leisure World. I kid you not. I am staying in a place called Leisure World. Never heard of it? Neitther had I, mainly because my grandparents didn't live long enough to settle down in a place like this. But basically it's a massive complex for retirees that looks a little bit like army barracks.

Why am I staying here? Because I have an 84-year-young friend named Mary who A) insisted I come to California to speak at approximately 542 engagements over the course of five days and B) insisted I stay with her while I'm here. She also insisted that she drive me everywhere, which let me tell you has been an *experience.* I may have thought I was going to die at multiple times while driving on I-610 to Claremont.
When we stopped at a gas station on the way (not to get gas but because she ate cheese on her burger and well, it wasn't agreeing with her), I said to our other travel companion that I was terrified, especially when were driving 40 miles per hour when the speed limit was 70. But somehow we have gotten from point A to point B in one piece. So far.

Despite the excitement of highway driving with an elderly person, I am just tickled at how I've gotten to be friends with someone who is in her 80s. My grandparents died relatively young, so it's been awhile since I've gotten to talk to someone who remembers the Depression. And this woman is still kicking ass. She's involved in about every social justice movement you can imagine, and she's completely independent, albeit a scary driver. But, hey, there are scary drivers at every age, right? I'll forgive that one. I can only hope to be as agile and spunky as she is in another 50 years.

I have to say, this is one of my favorite things about my job. I've gotten to know people from so many different places, from so many different backgrounds, and really, they've become more than colleagues--they're actual friends that I get to visit and laugh with. So while I may still be struggling to find a network of folks in NC, I've got a helluva lot of friends all over the country. And that's a pretty awesome thing. It makes being away from Carolina Man just a smidge easier.

I would become domesticated for this.

2012-01-12T08:38:00.001-05:00

A Wonder Woman KitchenAid mixer? Holla! Apparently this is being sold in Brazil, but I sure hope they wise up and bring it to the States. If not, it might be time for a little jaunt down to Rio.

Future wedding gift anyone? Anyone?

My 2012 "To Stop"s

2012-01-11T16:35:00.002-05:00

So, maybe I'm a little late to the game on posting this, but hey, I'll bet some people have already broken, if not forgotten their resolutions altogether. Frankly, I'm hoping some of the January, New-Year-Resolution-ers who are early morning gym-goers and use all of the good treadmills will be among them soon. I need that prime location right in front of the TV playing the Today show. How else am I going to stand 30 minutes on a stationary bike?

I actually don't have any real resolutions this year, but I do have a few things I'd like to stop doing, ranging from silly to serious. Here they are.

Stop buying things online just because they come with free samples. I was such a sucker for this during the holiday season. My downfall? Sephora. And Ulta. And Bumble & Bumble.
Stop obsessively checking Rue La La for Cole Haan shoe sales. I bought four pairs in a month. Three of which I purchased in a single sitting while interviewing someone on the phone. (She rambled so much that she didn't even notice.)
Stop grilling Carolina Man about the surprise weekend he has planned for us at the end of this month. Otherwise he'll give in and tell me, and it won't be a surprise. I asked him last night who was going to watch Lucy, and he said, "I got it covered." I'll try to trust that he's thought of everything.
Stop saying that I refuse to go to the gym at 6:30 am as I am putting on my gym clothes. Really, who am I kidding with this one? Shut up and put your spandex on.
Stop signing up for free magazines that I will never read. I am obsessed with this. Beer Connoisseur? Sure! Finance Daily? Why not? Maxim? I love the articles! Seriously, I am a magazine hoarder, and I need an intervention.
Similarly, stop downloading free Kindle books that I will never read.
Stop weighing myself everyday. This is just self-inflicted torture.
Stop feeling sorry for myself that I have to travel so much. I have an awesome job that I love, and that other people would love to have. And it's awesome to have someone who misses me and can't wait to see me when I get home. (I mean, besides my dog Lucy.)
Stop worrying that things are going to fall apart. Life is good. Enjoy it. I know I can handle the storm. But sometimes I think I have trouble enjoying the calm because it's so unfamiliar.
Stop listening to the voices of self-doubt and go for it. There are worse things than failing.

May it be so!

We're Flying First Class

2012-01-09T10:40:00.000-05:00

No, I'm not that Fergalicious. But I do fly a crazy amount for work, so much so that I'm now Silver Preferred on US Airways.

It's funny that free checked bags are a perk now. Remember when they were free for everyone? Well, now if I want to check something, I can do it for free. Just like five years ago. Even better, I get to board earlier, which means I won't have to check my bag because I'll get to stow my bag before all of the assholes with their giant-ass bags take up all the room. (I promise, I have a very small carry-on, and if we're on the same flight, I would be happy to assist you in shoving your oversized bag into the bin.)

But best of all? Complimentary upgrades! Just yesterday I got an email saying that I'd gotten upgraded to first class on my flight back from DC. I'm in seat 1A. 1A! The first seat on the plane! Perhaps I'm overly excited by this, but if you fly as much as I do, you'll understand that this is something worth celebrating.

Maybe this will make me hate US Airways a little bit less now for losing my bag every time I fly.

Why I Suck at Being Surprised

2011-12-19T12:20:00.000-05:00

I'm probably the last person on earth to have a surprise party. Why? Because I suck at being surprised. I'm suspicious and snoopy, qualities I inherited from my mother. As a kid, I took my annual sneak peek tour of my Christmas gifts in my mom's messy closet, and of course denied it every single time. I perfected my pretend look of surprise when I'd open a gift that I knew I was getting.

As much as I think surprises in the abstract are fun, I really don't like them all that much when I know one is coming. It's impossible for me to say, "Oh, a surprise! How fun. I guess I'll wait around and see what it is." My desire to figure it out ahead of time turns into a psychosis.

One Christmas I suspected my mom had gotten me a puppy (she had), and everyone in my family was in on it, except for me. I hated that feeling of being left out, even though a totally awesome thing was waiting on the other side. It's probably in part a function of being the youngest and only girl, but I hate feeling left out of whatever is going on, even if it's for me.

Weird, huh? I can manage to complain about having someone plan me something awesome. I'm such a jerk sometimes.

Needless to say, this time of the year is the WORST for someone with my snooping tendencies because now that I'm no longer five-years-old, it seems completely unacceptable to snoop around the house, looking for gifts. It doesn't mean I don't want to; it's just that now I feel totally ashamed of myself and the guilt keeps me from doing so...most of the time.

Not only do I have Christmas gifts just sitting there under the tree, taunting me, but I also have a late January surprise weekend that Carolina Man is planning. He told me about it at the end of November, and now I'm driving both him and me batty with questions about it. Sometimes he just says, "If you really want to know, I'll tell you," to which I respond with a whiny, "Noooooo! I want it to be a surprise."

Seriously, you can't please this girl.

I'll just have to suck it up, wait a few more days (or weeks), and realize that the wait will be worth it.

A Cure for the (nearly almost over) Holiday Blues

2011-12-15T16:25:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure how it's possible that my favorite day of the year is during the absolute worst time of the year. Seriously, last night I fell asleep at 8 pm with the lights still on because apparently my body begins shutting down at promptly 5:45 pm when the sun has ditched us for the day. Bastard sun.

I have to face the fact that as much as I love "the holidays," they really consist of a bunch of normal days where it's cold and dark and there are no presents to be opened. And this year, a lot of "the holidays" will be spent driving up and down I-95. And then what's after the holidays? The most godawful months of the year: January, the absolute worst month of the year, followed by the runner up for "Worst Month of the Year," February.

Are you ready for me to STFU yet? I am. And what better way to STFU about the post-holiday blues than a trip to...

Playa del Carmen, Mexico!!!

Yep, Feb. 13-18th Carolina Man and I will be frying our skin and gorging ourselves on all-you-can-eat-and-drink buffets.

The best part is that summer clothes are SUPER ON SALE right now. Below are just a few items I've purchased this week, all for less than $225 total.

Things I'm Glad Weren't True

2011-12-13T09:48:00.002-05:00

As my relationship with Carolina Man continues to grow better and better each day, I've been thinking about the advice, concerns, and questions I got from the people in my life--the ones who love me the most and the ones who just like to give unsolicited advice about relationships, which includes pretty much everyone and I put myself in that category as well.

From the well-meaning to the mean-spirited, I've gotten a lot of advice about how to do all of this, and while some of it was helpful, a lot of it turned out to be mostly untrue. I'm not saying that these snippets of advice are untrue for everyone, but they weren't true for me and they may not be true for you either.

1. You'll find love when you're not looking for it.

Finding a partner was something I felt like I was always doing, almost in an OCD way at times. It seemed like every attractive man I passed was a potential date, and I started looking for wedding bands right away. It was a pretty strange way of experiencing the world, mostly because it made me feel insane.

When I met Carolina Man, my ring-finger obsession had waned a bit, but I was still very much thinking about my life and how I wanted a partner. Being crystal clear about my wants and desires actually was part of what attracted CM to me in the first place.

My truth: I found love where I wasn't expecting it.

2. You need to be ok with being alone before you're ready for a relationship.

Looking for love and being happy with yourself are not mutually exclusive. Self-acceptance is about being satisfied with who you are, not necessarily your circumstances. In fact, it's in part about being able to discern the two. As in, just because life's shitty at times doesn't make me a shitty person. The problem comes when you want any relationship just for the sake of having one rather than one that's a good fit.

When I met CM, I was taking good care of myself and working on the inner critic bullshit. That upped my self-awareness and helped me be in tune with what was going on internally.

My truth: I needed to be self-aware of my feelings and desires before I was ready for a relationship.

3. Don't date more than 10 years older.

Confession: no one said this to me. I said it to myself! I set up this arbitrary decade limit for how old I'd date. I thought there would be no way I could relate to someone older than my oldest brother who's 37. When I was online dating, I immediately eliminated anyone older than that.

But CM is hardly an old man! I do have fun picking at him that when he graduated high school I was just going into kindergarten, but in all honesty, he's young at heart, goofy, and keeps me laughing. That's way more important than how many birthdays he's had.

My truth: Don't make age a non-negotiable.

Life is unpredictable. We can go through it trying to avoid hardship and heartache, but in the end, we get hurt anyway. So, why not just take the chance?

Sick Central

2011-12-07T10:02:00.001-05:00

Oh, the beauty of a relationship. You share everything, including your germs. We've been quarantined since last Thursday when I returned from my final (!!!!!) work trip of the year with a killer cold. Not anything spectacular or exotic; just an asshole of a cold that knocked me on my butt big time. Carolina Man was still on work travel himself when my throat started getting that nasty swollen feeling and I knew I was down for the count. In a totally uncharacteristic move, I cancelled my weekend gig in Oklahoma, and holed up in our house, Kleenex in hand.

I have to say, it's pretty damn nice to have someone there to take care of you when you're sick. I wouldn't say I'm an overly demanding patient--I don't need lots of stuff, like homemade soup or a particular kind of cough drop. I just need sympathy. A lot of it. And Carolina Man did not disappoint on that front.

But wouldn't you know it, I passed along my crud to my lovely partner, and now he's sick with bronchitis for the second time in two months. Poor thing! He totally wins the "Who's cough is the phlegmiest " contest. In fact, he's still asleep right now.

Thank God we can just stay home and watch Christmas specials for as long as we need to until the holidays really kick in. As unpleasant as it's been to be sick, it's definitely a lot better being sick together.

Revisiting the Past...and Leaving it There

2011-11-15T14:07:00.001-05:00

Midway through my penultimate business trip of 2011 (ONLY ONE MORE WEEK OF TRAVEL! YAY!) I gave a talk at my grad school. It's a school. In Connecticut. Ok, it's Yale. Now normally I don't give details about myself away like that, but I bring it up because Yale is in the midst of a huge investigation for the way that they handle (or in many cases don't handle) sexual harassment on campus. And I bring up the investigation because I was someone whom the system failed. I won't go into details because it isn't important. But, it was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life--not only the incident itself, but the process of handling it officially through the school.

I swear to God, my grad school had more corners than any other building ever created. You can't walk for more than a few steps before having to turn a corner. And when you're trying to avoid certain people, it's incredibly anxiety-provoking to have to turn a dozen corners to get from point A to point B. It got to be so bad that eventually I left school for a month before returning to finish my final semester. And I made my presence on campus as minimal as possible. For someone who'd been active in student life, it was a blow to my sense of self to disengage so abruptly.

Since moving away from Connecticut, I have stepped onto campus twice. The first was for my friend L's wedding, which was in the summertime when the school is mostly empty. The second was last week. I'd done a talk at Drew Seminary in New Jersey and was staying with an old friend in Connecticut before leaving for Ohio for another talk. I'd had one of my colleagues contact me about doing a talk, and I figured, what could it hurt? It's another thing for me to report back to our funder, and since I was already going to be in town, it was potentially a good use of what would otherwise have been down time.

I imagined what it would be like to run into my perpetrator. Or the people on the committee who heard every word about the incident. Or anyone who would trigger that anxiety in me. The turnover in grad school is so fast, I hardly recognized a face. It felt weird, to be a stranger in a place I'd spent three long, difficult years. I passed by the hall of class photographs, finding my picture. My eyes looked dead. In fact, a lot of the photos from those years are like that.

I must've been surrounded by some kind of grace that day because I was spared any of these potentially awkward run-ins. It helped me to focus on why I was there--to talk with students about what's next for them, how they can do great things in the world to help others, to encourage them that life post-Yale can be amazing. I met with a few old friends still in the area, and much to my surprise had a really great day. Who would've thought?

Walking out of the school, I felt a huge sense of relief. I'd been back, I'd done my thing, and I was ok. I'm stronger now than I was then. And I'm thankful to be leaving that place behind...again.

Mom is taking the leap!

2011-11-08T08:05:00.001-05:00

Do you all remember when I told you how my mom had reconnected with her high school boyfriend? She acted like it was no big thing, but then over time she revealed that they were talking every single day on the phone. And that he wanted to meet her.

I was really afraid she wasn't going to go for it. She was so hurt by her divorce from my dad. All I want for her is to be happy, in whatever form is best for her. But, I hated the idea of her being alone for her golden years.

So, she and Mr. High School Boyfriend are meeting next weekend! I'm trying to play it totally cool because I don't want her to wig out. But inside I am cheering like crazy! Who knows what will come of this, but the fact that my mom is going for it is totally amazing.

Here's to potential love at the most unexpected times!

Friend Dating

2011-11-04T10:16:00.002-04:00

You know what's just as challenging to find as a man you want to have babies with? Finding a friend that will put up with you gushing about him.

Yep, I'm ISO of some NC friends. And that means awkward friend dates. On Wednesday night I met up with a cool woman I'd emailed with about work stuff. Unlike my romantic dating life, I actually got to be the one asking out, and I was super happy when she agreed. Yay, potential friend!

The time was fine, although at one point I was wondering when our food was going to show up. I felt like I carried a lot of the conversation, asking questions and filling in what I perceived to be awkward silences. (I blame that on being extraordinarily extroverted.) And, I ate all of the food on my plate, not because I wanted it but because it was something to do.

I'm probably making this sound a lot more painful than it was. We had a good time and we have a lot in common. I think there will be future friend dates. But, after only two "dates," we don't really know each other. And no matter how much I want to have a close friend here in NC, she and I weren't going to go back to her place and watch YouTube videos together like Katie and I used to do.

Sigh. Living in a new place is tough. It's difficult for me to remember what it felt like when I moved to DC. I'm sure I felt similarly. But, when I think about DC, what I remember are the friends I had at the end of my time there, not the loneliness I felt at the beginning.

Just like back when I was single my brain used to say over and over, "You're never going to meet a man. You're never going to get married," my brain is now telling me, "You're never going to have friends in NC." Not really helpful to have bullshit like that swirling around in my head. So, I've got to keep putting myself out there, going out on friend dates, and believe that somewhere out there will be a friend that'll I really click with.

Things Purchased This Week

2011-10-27T15:12:00.000-04:00

Puppy collar and leash (pink, of course)
Puppy food bowls (heart-shaped with "Princess" written at the bottom)
Puppy all-natural food
Puppy natural treats
Puppy training treats
Puppy stuffed pig
Puppy Kong toy
Puppy Greenies
Puppy Hide-a-Squirrel
Puppy food holder
Puppy shampoo
Puppy brush
Puppy flea comb
Puppy rounded grooming scissors

This pup is taking over our life. And our finances.

We Love Lucy

2011-10-24T09:00:00.001-04:00

Meet the newest member of our family, Lucy the Shih Tzu! We are very proud parents.

The Sass is Back

2011-10-04T09:23:00.002-04:00

I'm a Southern woman, born and raised. This surprises a lot of people I meet primarily because A) I don't have the accent and B) I like to say fuck a lot. This wasn't always the case. Back in high school, I was a Bible Belter, goody two-shoes like most of my friends.

That all started to change ironically when I went to divinity school in Connecticut. People were abrasive and direct, which at first I found rude but then came to appreciate. There was no bullshit. Sure, I missed the friendliness of saying 'hi' to people on the street, but then again, there were so many pedestrians I could've spent my entire walk to campus greeting strangers. Instead I learned to look inward and found quiet and stillness.

I also developed quite a bit of attitude. Since my birth, my mom had taught me the passive aggressive ways of southern culture--that you ignore cat calls and kill rude people with kindness. As it turns out, these are not particularly satisfying strategies for dealing with assholes. I always felt disempowered and wished I'd been quicker with my tongue.

At some point, things shifted. I started with a few mouthy comebacks to men who would whistle or say something inappropriate to me on the street. One night I was coming home from CVS when a man in a truck said, "Hey there, sexy." I walked a few steps and yelled back, "Why don't you shut the fuck up!?" He probably thought I was a crazy bitch, but I felt this awesome rush of adrenaline and felt proud that I'd managed to make him, well, shut the fuck up.

Now after six years of living elsewhere, I'm back in the South and experiencing severe reverse culture shock. It first struck me when I went to a Zumba class at the gym and realized I was the most gyrating one in the class (something that NEVER would have happened in DC). I've changed and I'm not sure I can adopt the southern lady thing again.

The other day, Carolina Man and I were out playing bocce and throwing a frisbee at the park. A man walked by us, and remembering that I was in the South, I made eye contact and said hello. He replied, "You know, you really should use your arm more and your wrist less."

And without even thinking, I retorted with annoyance in my voice, "Thanks, but I didn't ask you." It wasn't rude exactly, but it was direct and it sent a clear message that I didn't appreciate his unsolicited advice about my frisbee throwing ability.

My mom probably would've died with embarrassment if she'd heard me say that. She would have preferred I'd feigned politeness or even gratitude, and then talked behind his back. Instead I said what I felt. And it felt pretty awesome!

Carolina Man said, "And that's why I love you."

Meeting His Momma

2011-09-29T10:31:00.002-04:00

Good thing I'm heading back to the airport today. It's been nearly two weeks since I've flown anywhere, and I was beginning to feel deprived.

But, this time it's not a work trip (yay). And, I won't be flying alone (double yay)! Carolina Man and I are heading to Alabama to spend the weekend with his mom and some of his other relatives. I haven't given the trip much thought. I've become entirely too lackadaisical about travel. If I let my usual type-A personality run amok when I was about to go somewhere, I'd never be able to accomplish anything else. For me, the thinking about a trip doesn't set in until I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to pack, which so far hasn't happened. I'm thinking I'll give myself an hour before we have to leave.

As much as Carolina Man has reassured me that his mom is thrilled to meet me, I can't help but feel somewhat anxious about it. You'll recall that I haven't exactly had the best of luck with significant others' mothers (especially when they are nosy, know-it-all bitches, not that I'm thinking of anyone in particular). And while I got along great with his dad and his brother, meeting the mom is always the scariest part about meeting someone's family.

So, I'm doing my best not to over-think it, to trust what CM has said--that his mom is laid back and easy to get along with. And I'll just do my best to be myself, flaws and all.

Carolina Man's Birthday Week Recap

2011-09-26T12:52:00.000-04:00

Carolina Man celebrated a big birthday last week, and since it was also our first together, I decided to make his birthday extra special by making a game out of his gifts. I created my own version of Dirty Minds with each present having three dirty-sounding clues that would lead CM to his gift. Like, "Press me up against something thick and juicy" and "I love you to hold my rear end" for the tomato knife I'd gotten him. Most of the gifts were small things, but it was fun creating a game out of it. I gave him a gift a day during his birthday week, with a couple extra ones on his actual birthday.

It's amazing how having a thoughtful partner makes me want to be more thoughtful. Even more that that, knowing how appreciative he is of the effort I put into it makes me want to make every occasion that special.

There's a fine line there, though. Both CM and I tend to be others-focused. Most of the time that's a good thing. We consider what other people are feeling and experiencing. But for me, it can definitely go overboard, and it was nearing that with this birthday. I felt so much internal pressure to wow him, to make his birthday perfect that I ended up putting a financial strain on myself. I kept feeling like I could do more and more, never knowing when I'd done enough. I suppose there's still some insecurity there about this relationship being as good and solid as it feels, and so I feel the need to overcompensate.

The best part is I could tell CM all of this. We talked through it all, even going back into birthdays past and recalling the thoughtlessness of our former partners. And it created even more closeness to talk about those insecurities rather than to act as if they weren't there. I'm very grateful for that openness we share.

Happiest of Birthdays, Carolina Man!

2011-09-20T10:09:00.001-04:00

Wishing my love the happiest of birthdays. You are my gift everyday!

Ketchup and Kisses

2011-09-19T13:52:00.002-04:00

Maybe cleaning out the fridge isn't the biggest or most accurate test of a healthy relationship, but I will say there's something to be said about pulling out umpteen bottles of salad dressing that expired in 2006 and laughing the whole time you're doing it.

I'm one of those people who ignores messes up until a certain point, but once my eyes have focused in on a particular shelf or space with a certain level of scrutiny, I can't help myself from dropping whatever I'm doing and attacking it, trash bag and paper towels in hand. For example, the other week I was getting something out of a cupboard in the kitchen when I noticed a dried glob of tomato sauce caked on there. I got out a cleaning cloth and went to town. For three hours.

The same kind of thing happened when I opened up the fridge. And then the freezer. And the pantry. CM and I started pitching stuff left and right. I can't get over how non-territorial he is with this stuff. I love that we're both anti-hoarding. There wasn't a single item that I wanted to throw out that he wanted to keep. By the end of it, all we had left were some caffeine-free Diet Cokes and some freezer pops, but that fridge looked good.

The thing is, we spend most of our lives throwing out the trash, cleaning up messes, doing the laundry. And it's fantastic that we not only the same approaches to these things, but that we find disgusting expired food products kind of hilarious. I never knew you could enjoy doing something that's kind of gross.

It's those moments of living life together that make me feel so good about my move here. It's giving us the chance to really get to know one another on a level we never would have if I'd stayed in DC. And I'm really grateful for the daily life experiences we're having together.

Living Together Separately

2011-09-08T16:44:00.000-04:00

I've got a list of blog topics all prepared in my head, and yet the break-neck speed of the last three weeks has kept me from doing much about it. Yesterday I left NC at 6 am for a day of meetings and catching up with DC blogger amigas Date Me, D.C.! (with whom I'd just spent an awesome weekend), Sassy Marmalade, Bless Your Heart, and A Single Girl before heading back to NC at 10 pm. This morning was basically the same, only this time Carolina Man was the one heading out of town. Bleary-eyed, we did the exact same early morning kiss good-bye we'd done yesterday.

A lot of people have asked me how it's going living here. I've said that it's going really well, which it is. But I also don't feel like I have of time under my belt to say with confidence that it's going as well as I feel like it is. This has been our timeline thus far:

Aug 20--Move Day
Aug 24-28--Work trip to Ohio
Aug 31--CM's dad and brother arrive
Sept 2-4--CM, dad, and brother go to beach
Sept 6--Dad, brother go home; I go to DC
Sept 7-8--CM goes to Philadelphia

In short, we have hardly spent any time together alone at our house. Nothing about my schedule has changed, and he's just as busy as I am. I'd mapped all of this out before I moved and said, "We need to realize that just because NC will my home base doesn't mean we'll be together all the time." It's been especially tough on me when CM is gone because I haven't exactly had much time to make friends, so I end up doing a lot solo, which is tough on an extrovert like me. I know I'll make friends--I always do. But living in a new place is tough, no matter how good the circumstances are. And it's been even tougher to have spent so much of the transition apart.

In making travel plans for work, I'd never really had to consider someone else. I was fine with booking trips back-to-back, running myself into the ground repeatedly, and taking a random day off in the middle of the week to catch up on sleep. But being in a relationship is different. I've got to become more discriminating when it comes to offering up my weekends because when we miss a weekend together, there's no time to be lazy and just enjoy each other's company.

So, I can't wait for this weekend when we'll both be here and can get some quality time together. We need it.

Buena Vis(t)a

2011-08-30T17:56:00.001-04:00

"Open it, open it!" Carolina Man said as he drove us to the gym, a healthy habit we were already cultivating on our second day of living together.

The single piece of mail we'd gotten that day had been an envelope from Capitol One. I'd raved to CM about my rewards AmEx and how I'd already spent enough to earn serious bucks off a trip--a honeymoon, maybe? Since he was just using his debit card, he figured he'd join the credit card rewards fun and earn some buck-age along the way.

We'd been in lots of conversations about our finances--how much we each had in savings, how much we wanted to spend together, and...how much we could set aside each month for a wedding. Thankfully we're not starting from scratch, but we aren't into A) doing it on the cheap B) counting on our families to help (though they might) or C) doing it in the far, far distant future. That means the more we can save, the better.

I thought it was kind of weird that he wanted me to open up his credit card envelope, but I figured he was just excited about having a new card and his hands were occupied with the driving.

But then, when I opened up the letter inside, I saw the card. It had a picture on it. A picture of us from our mini-vacation to the beach. We were in our bathing suits, lips locked, with a gorgeous blue sky and ocean behind us. A buena vista Visa.

It was the sweetest, most unexpected gesture. To me, it said, "I love this woman and I want everyone to know. I want everyone to see."

This guy's for real. I mean, my picture is on his credit card.

DC to NC

2011-08-24T10:49:00.000-04:00

I spent my last night in DC trudging through a torrential downpour to my going away party, which was awesome, only to return to two inches of water on the floor of my bedroom closet. Thank God Carolina Man and I had already packed all my stuff up into the cars--just a few hours before the rain fell I'd had all my linens, clothes, and books packed on the floor of the closet. I took it as a final "F*** you" from DC.

But no, the water on the floor was in fact the penultimate DC middle finger. The last would be the extra hour and a half it took for us to get from DC to Richmond. There's nothing worse than desperately wanting to get somewhere and have all the traffic gods crap on you. But eventually, we got here, unpacked the cars, and passed out from exhaustion.

The last few days have been awesome and exhilarating, weird and strange, relaxed and comfortable, stressful and tense. It's been the roller-coaster of feelings and emotions that we anticipated it would be, and we've just done our best to talk through it all. As we were falling asleep last night, I asked CM, "Do you think we have more issues than most couples do?" He said, "I think we have as many issues as any other couples. The difference is that we aren't afraid to name them when they come up."

In so many ways, CM and I are still getting to know each other. We have similar issues and insecurities, but the situations that trigger them are so unique to each of us. In time, we'll learn more about those and will have a better understanding of why the other reacts a certain way. I love that we can talk openly about our hurts and pain from the past.

It's easy for me in some ways to feel like CM has always been in my life. I have nearly forgotten what it was like to spend every night alone and to have no one to snuggle up next to in the morning. I have to remind myself of how much has changed in such a short period of time. More time than I could have anticipated, it just feels normal. Being with CM feels like home.

The Lasts

2011-08-17T14:38:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was my last therapy session with C. After a journey of nearly a year and a half, it was bittersweet to say good-bye and thank her for facilitating a lot of hard work and growth. She, like my blog readers, has been along for the bumpy ride of heartache, depression, confusion, new hope, growth, and now, love. Carolina Man came with me to the session, which was a lovely way of tying it all together.

My room is mostly packed, to the point that I can't find anything I need and I've only got those random tidbits like a soap dish and a pile of magazines to deal with. It's crazy to think that in just a few days I'll be starting a new life, not leaving behind my current one entirely but starting a new chapter.

I'm leaving without the slightest tinge of doubt about my decision. I can't imagine a better feeling.

I'm Going Home!

2011-08-08T07:55:00.000-04:00

Home to Georgia. As Carolina Man pointed out, when I say "home" there are several different places I could mean:

Georgia
North Carolina
DC

This time it's 1. I haven't been home to visit my mom, brother, and nephew since Christmas (!). Granted, they could come visit me if they wanted to (my mom has only been up here once since I moved to DC over two years ago), but I recognize I'm more accustomed to flying and don't have the space to accommodate guests right now (although that will change once I'm at home #2).

I spent the weekend getting as much packing and work done as I could, so I could enjoy the week away. I ended up only getting about five hours of not very restful sleep (dreams of getting shot in the head--lovely!) but I woke up feeling excited about having a week to relax and soak up the sun on Amelia Island, FL.

Then, when I get back, Carolina Man comes to DC, we pack up the car, and head to NC! I can't believe all of this is happening. And I can't wait.

As if I needed another reason to be excited

2011-08-06T21:52:00.001-04:00

This beautiful bed awaits me in NC! Thanks, Carolina Man--my handy man.

Dancing to...NC!

2011-08-03T11:07:00.001-04:00

This probably won't come as much of a shock to you who have been reading along the last few months, but Carolina Man and I have decided it's time to end this long-distance nonsense and live in the same place. So, I'm packing up my things and moving to Cary in... 16 DAYS!

I've wanted to move to NC for over a year now, and since I can keep my current job and I don't even have to break a lease, there's never been a better time to try it out. I'm excited and stressed and nervous and happy and sad about it all at once.

So, I'll be busy the next few weeks trying to get my life in order. I couldn't be happier about the decision. As much as I'll miss my friends in DC, I know I'm ready to start my new life with Carolina Man.

A Purging Ritual

2011-07-29T07:44:00.000-04:00

After a much overdue catch-up session with Katie, complete with jumbo margaritas, I decided it was time to purge my life of all things ex related. I was pretty far along in the process to begin with--I'd gotten it all into a single box, tucked away underneath my bed. But, I hadn't taken that final step of actually getting rid of all of it. So last night, I went through and pitched every card, picture, and memento into a big black garbage bag.

It's not hard for me to understand why I wanted to hang onto that stuff. I'm a very sentimental person. I've kept every birthday card ever given to me. I think that's in part due to being the third child in my family at which point my parents were pretty sick and tired of documenting their kids' every move. There isn't even a picture of me from the day I was born! So, I've taken it upon myself to keep things that are special and hold meaning.

After the break-up, I'd stuffed all of our memories into a boyfriend box and sealed it up just like I had with my exes from high school and college. I thought maybe one day I'd want to show my kids or something. But, that seems kind of ridiculous with this last relationship. It was too deep of a hurt, too disappointing. Why would I ever want to be reminded of that again?

I felt a little tug at my heart as I threw away the best pieces of us, but I know deep down it was the right thing. I know that those few highlights don't represent the real relationship we had--the distrust, the secrets, the dysfunction. Keeping them would have made me question the truth that I know--that he wasn't the right person for me.

I feel lighter.

Beach Getaway

2011-07-26T09:43:00.001-04:00

It had been a long time since I'd been to the beach with a boy I loved, and my weekend getaway with Carolina Man could not have come too soon. I spent the late-night, four-hour drive down to his house complaining about how tired I was and how sucky my week had been. You could say I was being a bit of a baby, but he knew exactly what to do: listen, say "I'm sorry" and wait for it to pass, which it did as soon as I realized I was just a few hours away from being in his arms.As exhausted as we both were, we stayed up until four in the morning, getting reacquainted with each other, which was just delightful.

The heat wave put a damper on our departure because the car was so hot for the first 20 minutes or so we'd both broken out into a serious sweat. But once we got going and the car cooled down, we started singing along to James Taylor and feeling relaxed. We spent nearly all of the weekend catching up on sleep, eating indulgent food, and taking long walks on the beach. It was absolutely perfect.

I love how we are on similar pages when it comes to spending leisure time. Part of us felt like we should be spending more time out on the sand, but then we realized, this is vacation and we can do whatever the fuck we want. If we want to sleep until 10 and then go back to sleep at 3 in the afternoon, then we should do just that. There's no sense in adding stress to what's supposed to be mandatory relaxation.

I was sad to leave the beach, but that couldn't put a damper on my excitement to get back home to our new king-size bed and our luxurious new bedding from Restoration Hardware. And, I realized that I just called his house "home."

Miles to Go Before I Sleep

2011-07-21T18:02:00.001-04:00

Life is so good right now that I'm hesitant to complain about the sucky nature of this week. But, it was sucky. I was in the middle of nowhere Ohio for work with not a single person in my age group in sight. I slept in a dorm, ate crappy cafeteria food, and listened to boring lectures for six days. And, the whole trip started on a sour note when my flight was canceled and the airline lost my bag.

But, it's over! I am at the Dayton airport, waiting for a flight back to DC (please, God, let it be on time!) so that I can jump in the car and make the four-hour drive back to North Carolina. Carolina Man and I are heading to the beach tomorrow for a much needed getaway. He's promised to indulge and pamper me, complete with providing a bell I can ring at any time. I suspect there might even be a present waiting for me when I arrive late tonight.

All I want to do is get there. This has seriously been the longest week I've had in recent memory. It feels like time slowed to a halt as soon as I landed in Ohio. Even though I miss Carolina Man terribly when I'm in DC, the pace of life is so much faster there I don't feel it quite as much. But in the middle of nowhere Ohio? Torture.

I know I'm going to be tired on my drive, so I've been caffeinating myself as much as possible and have a playlist of Celine songs (hey, you gotta do what you gotta do) to belt out to to keep me alert. Oh, and we discovered a little app called HeyTell that's like voice instant messanger and is probably the best thing ever. Next to chocolate. And coffee. And actually being together in person. But still, it's really freaking awesome.

This last stretch of time is going to be painful. But when I get there and feel him next to me and get to fall asleep in our new bed, all the waiting will be forgotten. I can't wait.

Too Good to Be True?

2011-07-19T21:32:00.001-04:00

At 4:45 today I was annoyed to get a call from my project's funder, asking if we could push our last minute meeting (which they had called) back by another half hour. Just last week I'd managed to squeeze in their request, and now they were asking me to change it at the very last moment. I was irritated, to say the least.

That is, until they said they wanted to offer us full funding for another year. And that if we wanted more funding just to ask for it. They have it for us, and they want us to "think big."

What. The. Fuck.

This is unheard of. Funders don't just call you up and say, "Hey, we'd like to give you some money. You don't have to fill out any forms. You aren't competing with anyone else for it. We'd just like to offer you job security for another twelve months."

Seriously. What. The. Fuck.

Granted, I've worked my ass off for the last 18 months, and we've done really excellent work. I'm not surprised that we got additional funding at all. What I am surprised about is we didn't even have to ask.

This is blowing my mind. How is it that all of these good things are happening to me, and I'm not even having to ask for them? They are just happening. Without my help. Without my pleading. Without my die-hard determination to get what I want.

I keep waiting for the shoe to drop. Surely things can't be this good. I'd grown so accustomed to things being shitty that this sudden turnaround seems way too good to be true. After I said this to my boss several times today, she said, "You've got to stop saying that." And I realized, it was just the fear talking.

Maybe things really can be this good, at least for awhile.

From a Distance

2011-07-17T19:27:00.006-04:00

"I know we've only known each other four weeks and three days, but to me it seems like nine weeks and five days. The first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days. And the third day seemed like a week again and the fourth day seemed like eight days. And the fifth day you went to see your mother and that seemed just like a day, and then you came back and later on the sixth day, in the evening, when we saw each other, that started seeming like two days, so in the evening it seemed like two days spilling over into the next day and that started seeming like four days, so at the end of the sixth day on into the seventh day, it seemed like a total of five days. And the sixth day seemed like a week and a half. I have it written down, but I can show it to you tomorrow if you want to see it. "

Hopefully you recognize the absurdity above as a quote from the 1979 Steve Martin classic The Jerk. It's become a frequent reference for Carolina Man and me. First, in a silly way, it encapsulates the feeling of having known each other longer much longer than we have in actuality. Second, it pokes fun at the anguish we feel in being apart, no matter how relatively short the time. It's tough for me even to consider this a real long-distance relationship when he's just a four-hour drive away, and we've already managed to see each other twice since our first weekend together in Ohio (and I'll be going back to North Carolina on Thursday night!) In the past I've done the long-distance thing over continents and time zones, but this feels different. I can't imagine getting used to being apart, nor do I want to get to that place.

Even with Skype and texting and email and cell phones, nothing comes close to being with someone in person. So much is lost when there's physical space separating you. Carolina Man brings up this distant feeling every now and then, and there's sadness that comes with it for both of us. That's especially true on a day like today, when he's having a lazy Sunday and I'm stuck in a tiny town in Ohio for work with nothing on my agenda today except perhaps a trip to the drugstore, only to alleviate some of the boredom. I think, "Why can't we just be together?" It feels like torture.

But it's almost a sweet torture, both the agonizing longing for him and the ecstatic feeling of relief when I do see him again. I can hardly remember my life before him now, what it was like for something or someone else to be filling up all the spaces he holds in my mind and heart. I love that I'm still amazed at what's happening, that we haven't yet settled into daily life with one another. I love that he's the first thought I have when I wake up and the last thought I have as I fall asleep. And I will continue to count the days until I see my love again.

Reflecting Back, Visioning the Future

2011-07-15T07:33:00.001-04:00

I wrote the following on March 25, 2010, just a few days after SCL and I broke up. I sealed the seven pages of journaling into an envelope and dated it March 25, 2011. I read it a few months ago and then didn't think about it again. But when I was with Carolina Man this week, something he said reminded me of this passage. I shared it with him last night and I want to share part of it with you now.

When I'm honest with myself, I realize that the reason I could not even picture SCL proposing to me was not because I was so excited about all of it. It wasn't jitters or other fun feelings of anticipation. It was that deep down I didn't believe he would actually do it. I held it up as this blessed moment when he finally, finally, FINALLY would show me love in a truly selfless way. Wow. When I write that out, I realize how truly fucked up that was.

I can't control what others think, how they love or don't love, if and when they decide to enter or exit my life. But I can work to turn the love I so easily give outwardly toward myself. I can show myself love, care for myself, be satisfied with myself. I will have to learn to do this, but I am able to learn it and I desire to learn it. I want to feel and know that I am a complete person, truly loved and valued, and deserving of nothing less than being truly loved by others.

On the subway I was daydreaming about how somewhere in the world, there's a man with a broken heart, a man who was ready to give his heart but not to the right woman, who is hurting just like me, believing he'd just lost his one opportunity for love. And I dream that he's figuring all this out, learning to move forward, growing into himself, preparing for a time when he'll be ready to love again. We'll meet, we'll flirt, we'll feel all those feeling of spark and passion and new love. We'll realize that we can love again and we'll learn to allow ourselves to do just that. We'll be open, honest, and communicate. We'll eventually find ourselves on the same page. We'll want, but not need, one another. And we'll begin to understand it better--the past, the heartache, the pain, the difficulty. It'll make sense in a new way.

I didn't know anything about Carolina Man at the time. It wouldn't be until August 24, 2010 that I'd even hear about him. And it wasn't until December 4, 2010 that we met. And it wasn't until June 26, 2011 that we kissed the first time. But deep down, I felt that when the time was right, I'd meet the man I imagined in my mind. And I believe with all my heart that he's it.

Back to the Grind

2011-07-14T14:00:00.004-04:00

I'm back at my own place, wishing I could still be with Carolina Man but thankful for the time we had together and that we'll see each other at the end of next week. (God bless my job flexibility.) I actually have to go on a work trip tomorrow, so I'm trying to think of it not as needing to return to DC but rather fulfilling my work obligations in the way I would have to no matter where I'm living.

I feel tired and overwhelmed by the return of the normal busyness of daily life. So often my life feels like an endless cycle of pulling dirty clothes out of a suitcase, washing them, and throwing them right back in for the next trip. They never even make it back into the closet! I kind of relate to George Clooney's character in Up in the Air, except I wouldn't go so far as to say I prefer to live on the road. It's more that I can understand the empty feeling of returning to a place that doesn't feel quite like home.

I said this in my post the other day, but I feel at home in North Carolina. And, I really felt at home with Carolina Man. He, just like his home, exudes a warmth, a sense of welcome. I never felt like I was intruding on his space because he never made me feel like I was.

Probably my favorite moments were when we went out shopping for a new king bed for his master bedroom--mattress, headboard/footboard, and bedding. We had a similar aesthetic and gravitated to the same things. Ultimately, it's his bed and I would have deferred to him if we disagreed, but we didn't. It was one of those practical things we were doing together as a couple, but it was strangely bonding. I texted my friend L, "We are shopping for furniture. I love dating a grown up!"

I love being in this honeymoon stage, knowing it won't last but soaking up every second. And I can't wait to fall asleep next to him again.

Feels Like Home

2011-07-11T14:48:00.002-04:00

As I crossed the North Carolina state line early yesterday morning, I instantly felt like I was home. There's something about this state that just makes my heart feel like singing. Ever since I started at Davidson College in 2001, I have felt a strong sense of belonging here. It holds so many special memories, not to mention special people, for me. I feel like I breathe more deeply here.

I felt a similar sense of peace when I was, strangely enough, in Malawi. I hadn't expected to go so far away from home only to experience a deeper sense of belonging and connection than I ever did in DC. One night our team was out eating dinner at a restaurant on the shores of Lake Malawi when I happened to look up into the night sky. I'd never seen anything so breathtaking--the stars so bright and dense. I've never looked at the sky the same way since I got back.

The moment I walked through the door when I got back to DC, I felt that sense of peace disintegrate. The influx of email and phone calls and conference calls overpowered my newly found quietness. "I've got to learn to replicate that sense of quiet," I thought. I began slowly to push out the noise--turning off my email indicator on my phone, putting the computer to sleep by 8 pm, not going to sleep with the TV on. But, I wanted more than just quiet. I wanted connection, community, family.

Being here in North Carolina with Carolina Man, in his beautiful house by the lake, I feel that sense of connection, that sense of peace I thought I'd have to travel to the other side of the world to feel again. I experience myself and the world around me differently here. It's something I think I'd like to get used to.

Too Excited to Sleep

2011-07-10T04:46:00.004-04:00

It's not even 5 am, but I am dressed and ready to go to North Carolina! I'll be hanging with Carolina Man until Thursday. Can't wait to see him and spend more time together. Wish us luck!

The Logic Behind the Love

2011-07-08T09:17:00.000-04:00

I love Carolina Man. I do. Maybe that seems a bit on the fast side, but there's no denying that's what I feel. I've never felt this way about anyone, not even my long-term boyfriends. With everything happening so quickly, it's easy for me to begin to question if I'm just being swept up into the intensity of it all and losing all sense of reality about him. So, to help reassure myself (and maybe some of my readers) I thought I'd set aside the giddiness and explore some of the logic behind why Carolina Man is my perfect match.

We have honest, open communication about our past, present, and future. Carolina Man is an open book. Never once have I asked him a question that he refused to answer, even if the topic made him upset or angry. We still have a lot to learn about each other, but with the openness we already have, there's no bullshit. There's no hiding pain or mistakes. There's no glossing over the difficulty of living in different places, and what it means when we decide we want to change that. And there's no hesitation in discussing the future and what we want as a couple (yes, we've discussed babies). Each time we work through something, I feel more and more confident that we'll be able to address any issue that comes up and work on it. Last night I was feeling really angry about the idea of having to pick up my life and move, and he just listened compassionately until the anger defused. I got off the phone feeling a hundred times better than before we talked.

We were set up by two people who love us deeply. I'm so grateful that Carolina Man and I didn't have the typical beginning--an awkward dinner date and subsequent wondering if he was ever going to call. We had the absolutely perfect occasion to get to know one another, orchestrated by his dad and my boss. Before we even met each other, we had the confidence of two very important people that we were well-suited for each other, and it's just served as further affirmation of the chemistry and click we feel.

We both want to live in North Carolina. Even before I met him, I was talking about moving to the Research Triangle area (Durham/Chapel Hill/Raleigh) because I have family there and it has potential work opportunities for me in the future. It's a 6 hour drive from home and it's a 2 hour drive from my college where I still have lots of friends. I told him last night, if he lived in Michigan or something, I might not be so inclined to pick up my life and move there, but seeing as how he already lives in the place I've wanted to move back to for a year, it's a no brainer. That doesn't mean leaving DC will be easy. I have a life and friends here, and I will have to do the hard work of rebuilding a network when I decide to move. But, I feel like when I do move, it'll be permanent and it'll be worth investing time and energy into creating the life that I want.

We've been disappointed in similar ways in the past and know what we want from our partners. Our past relationships had similar dynamics--our partners not living up the potential we saw in them, no honest communication, no willingness to work on issues. We share similar hurts, and having that common experience makes us all the more grateful for the contrast in our interactions. We don't want to spend too much time making comparisons, but it is helpful to say, "I've had dysfunction, and I'm grateful that this is healthy."

So, despite the emotional giddiness of it all, we have a core there that won't fade over time. And I'm confident it's going to carry us through a lifelong partnership.

Do You Trust Me?

2011-07-07T07:41:00.001-04:00

I've been trying to put myself in my friends' shoes with regard to Carolina Man, but it's really been a struggle. I get the fact that for those who care for me most, what's most important to them is that I not suffer needless heartache again. They've warned me against moving too fast, urging me to be cautious (though when I ask "what does that mean?" they can't tell me) and to get to know him better before I make any big decisions.

But last night I ran out of patience. I was talking to my very best friend, and I snapped at her when she told me to be careful. "What does that even mean?" I snarled. And when I mentioned moving to North Carolina, she said, "Well, you'd be moving into your own place, right?" Earlier in the week when I told my good friend from college about how strong my feelings for Carolina Man are, he rolled his eyes and said, "You always do this." Always do this? It hurt to have my happiness cast aside as hopeless romanticism, as just another leap into the abyss of future disappointment. It was almost as if he was saying, "Haven't you learned by now?"

I want to scream, "You don't even know him! How can you judge someone you've never even met? And for God's sake people, can't you fucking trust me on this one?"

I was nearly in tears when I picked up the phone and called the most trustworthy voice of reason in my life, my mom. I told her how frustrated I was feeling about my friends' doubting reactions to my newfound happiness. "I know they want what's best for me, but why can't they just trust me on this?"

And this is why my mom rocks so much. She said, "Sweet girl, I have known you your whole life. I've always told you that when you met the right person, you would know instantly. I have never heard you talk about anyone the way you've talked about Carolina Man. And I trust you."

She said many more helpful, affirming things about my maturity and self-awareness, but what meant most to me in our talk was that she said she trusted me to know that this is right.

I want my friends to fall in love with Carolina Man. I'm hopeful that once they meet him and see us interact, they will. But, at the same time, my confidence in our relationship is based primarily in my own gut feelings and experience of him. My top priority is ensuring we have as much time as possible to get to know each other and experience each other in different settings, which is why I'll be driving down to North Carolina for five days this week. I can't wait.

Trust me on this one, friends. I know quality when I see it. And in time, I'm certain you'll see it, too.

In Session: Exploring Infatuation

2011-07-06T08:54:00.001-04:00

In preparation for my weekly therapy session with C, I was journaling about everything that had happened since I saw her the week before, and I contemplated what I felt comfortable sharing. I realized I was considering filtering myself. With my therapist. The person I pay big bucks to listen to me. That seemed like something worth bringing up.

I started the session by saying, "I really want to share with you everything that's going on with Carolina Man, but I'm afraid of what you'll think." Really, I'm afraid of what everyone will think. The few friends I've told about him are excited for me but understandably protective. They've seen me get hurt and don't want me to go through it again. Part of it is that other than my boss, I don't have anyone in my life who's met him, so they haven't seen for themselves what a great connection we have. Other than on the blog, I haven't gushed much because I don't want to feel like I have to justify the strength and certainty of my feelings this early.

And like the professional that she is, she responded with the perfect thing: "I hear what you're saying, but I'm not really interested in what other people think about it. I'm really curious what you're thinking about all of it." I got a huge smile on my face and the gushing began. "I'm so happy. I've never felt this way about anyone before. He's such a good match for me. I would move to North Carolina tomorrow if I could." She just beamed and said how thrilled she was for me.

We began to pick apart and examine the hesitation on my end with telling others about the new man in my life. "I'm afraid that they're going to think I'm just acting on emotions, on infatuation," I said. "What's so wrong with being infatuated?" she asked. Good point.

"I don't think infatuation is the state of mind I want to be in to be making big life decisions," I said. "I'm so used to being rational and logical that the idea of acting on a feeling, even as strong as this, is difficult for me to think about."

We looked at infatuation extensively. She explained that it's the normal, healthy beginning stage of a relationship, and while it isn't sustainable, it's an indicator of the important click we need to feel with our partner. The problem is when people think that infatuation is supposed to last forever and when things settle into the daily calm of normal life, they think the relationship has soured.

I've talked with C about my relationship non-negotiables over the last year and a half, and she could see that he meets them all. It was helpful to have that reflected back to me. One that she pointed out that I hadn't considered before is my need to know where I stand with my partner. The other guys I've dated have expressed interest and affection, but didn't want to clarify what we were to each other. With Carolina Man, I don't have to question that at all. He's been so forthright about his intentions for us and his vision of a life together. I love that about him.

I left the therapy session feeling relieved and affirmed for where I am in the moment--totally, completely head over heels in love.

I'm not sure what happened to yesterday's post. It's missing! Anyone else having problems with blogger today?

Taken

2011-07-01T08:35:00.002-04:00

Last night after talking, Carolina Man sent me an email that said, "How are you not taken? How am I this lucky? When am I going to wake up from this dream?"

I'm not taken because I've been waiting for him to come into my life. He's so secure in who he is, and that in turn encourages me to be my authentic self. While we haven't known each other long, I can say in complete confidence that the parts of me he has seen have been the real me.

He has two of the essential things I was looking for: emotional maturity and the willingness (and in his case, also the ability) to communicate what he's thinking and feeling. These are my non-negotiables and he's got them.

I could hardly sleep last night because I was so excited about him getting here today, showing him my life here and getting to know him better. Just a few more hours!

Giddy

2011-06-29T08:35:00.000-04:00

Carolina Man is coming to visit me this weekend! Last night he asked me what plans I had for the 4th. Seeing as how I live in, you know, the nation's capitol, it was kind of embarrassing to admit the only thing I had on my plate was dog sitting. I thought he was just making small talk until I realized, "Oh wait, he could come visit. It's a long weekend!"

And so, that's what we're going to do. He's driving up here just as soon as he can on Friday (he said, "It'll be tough for me not to jump in the car at 6 am") and we're going to have time for just the two of us. No boss, no dad, just he and I.

I can't wait.

Everything is About to Change

2011-06-28T11:18:00.002-04:00

This weekend was like a dream. Part of me still wonders if it happened at all. Could it really be this easy? Could I have actually found someone with whom I have a real connection?

I spent four glorious days with my boss L, her husband, and his son. There was some definite build-up and anticipation going into it; L had been talking about this guy for nearly a year, and I felt sheepish about being set up. But, the awkwardness melted as soon as he made me laugh the first time.

I've never laughed so much. And I didn't realize until then how important it is to laugh with someone--and how I never really did that with my ex. It was then that I realized I'd been settling for something less than I deserved. He had brought me down; being with him made me feel less like myself.

Now I feel like I'm floating. I'm scared and excited. But more than anything, I am feeling closer to my real self than I have in months. And I can't wait to see him again.

A Note to the Ex

2011-06-23T08:39:00.001-04:00

Seriously? No, seriously? You couldn't even take two seconds to send me an email to say "happy birthday"? You know how important birthdays are to me. And I spent yours with you this year.

I've got to find a way to stop being disappointed by you. I have to take you off the list of people who matter to me. But in the meantime, I have to admit that you've really hurt my feelings. And I still want my things back.

28

2011-06-22T09:37:00.000-04:00

Today's my 28th birthday! So to celebrate, here are 28 awesome things that have happened this year.

1. I met my BFF Katie.
2. I went to California for the first (and second) time.
3. I got to go into the United Nations.
3. I met Geena Davis and made her laugh.
4. I hooked up with a beautiful man at the beach.
5. I got a raise.
6. I moved into a room with a whirlpool tub.
7. I traveled the US with women from Kenya and Sierra Leone.
8. I lost 20 pounds and 2 dress sizes.
9. I took a much needed break from online dating.
10. I spent New Year's with my childhood best friend.
11. I started a women's faith & spirituality group.
12. I turned down a board position I didn't have time for.
13. I joined a new gym and discovered Zumba.
14. I WENT TO MALAWI!!! (Last year on my birthday, I said, "Maybe my job will take me 6000 miles away." I wasn't quite right--it actually took me 7902 miles away!)
15. I discovered Birchbox.
16. I maxed out my IRA contribution.
17. I went to my 5-year college reunion.
18. I bought myself an iMac.
19. I danced on stage at the Kennedy Center.
20. I successfully gave up alcohol for Lent.
21. I got one of my bishops to agree to meet with a member of Congress on women's health matters.
22. I saw the Rocky Mountains for the first time.
23. I published one of my liturgical pieces in a book.
24. I went back to church.
25. I joined a Bocce team and we won our first season!
26. I gave up watching wedding shows.
27. I performed Cee Lo's "F*** You" at karaoke more times than I can count.
28. I learned that I am enough.

(un)Committed

2011-06-21T05:58:00.001-04:00

Sitting in the Houston airport after a 36 hour jaunt to California, waiting for our respective connections, my boss and I were discussing my current state of unhappiness as it relates to my ex. I told her how much I hated his lack of honesty in our relationship, and especially how he would act as if he were withholding information in order to protect me. It would usually be along the lines of "I didn't want to upset you." I resented how he used me as his excuse for being cowardly.

She responded with the following: "The problem is that he was never really committed to your relationship."

I simultaneously wanted to slap her and burst into tears. Fortunately, I did neither. But I realized in that moment something much deeper than the hurt of a love lost was going on. What was it about what she had just said that made me react so strongly? What nerve had she touched that in an instant made me feel as if I'd come unraveled?

What she'd said was more or less a factual statement about our relationship. I'd been prepared to stick it out, and SCL walked out when things got hard. He never even tried to work on our problems--and that was his problem. So, why did it feel like a reflection on me that he gave up?

I felt like I wasn't worth fighting for. I wasn't worth the effort of trying. I was dispensable. Traded in for something better. Tossed aside. Forgotten.

As a child, I watched my father walk in and out of my life three different times, the last time for good. I thought that if I could just do or say the right thing, he would realize what a shitty father he'd been and would apologize. I would labor over long letters to him, telling him everything I felt and how he'd wronged me. Never once did he apologize. Never once did he admit that he'd given up. And I was left disappointed.

Kids shouldn't have to earn the love of their parents. They certainly shouldn't have to earn an apology. I never should have felt like I had to convince my father to be a supportive presence in my life. Finally, I just gave up on him. He'd already given up on me years before.

My ex is just the lens through which I have been examining a pain that goes much deeper. It isn't about him; he isn't the root of it. He's still in the forefront of my mind, but in time that will fade, I hope. But the deeper pain won't unless I start admitting it's there.

Reclaiming Our Humanity

2011-06-20T13:36:00.000-04:00

What happens when we claim our right to be fully human? Everyone benefits. Even those who feel superior, who demean and discount us, benefit when we claim our full humanity.When we refuse to accept degrading conditions and behaviors, those in power no longer have a target for their oppressive acts. Even if they want to continue in their old ways, we don’t let them. Our refusal gives them the opportunity to explore new, more humane behaviors. They may not choose to change, but as we stand up for ourselves, we give them the chance to be more fully human as well. When we are courageous enough to honor ourselves, we offer everyone else their humanity.

It's a wonderful realization--claiming our vocation to be fully human is the way we extend love to all others. As such, it is the ultimate gesture of love.

Margaret Wheatley, Turning to One Another: Simple Conversations to Restore Hope to the Future

Precisely

2011-06-15T18:25:00.000-04:00

"FUCK! i'm in my twenties"

Burnout

2011-06-15T07:24:00.001-04:00

That's what I'm pretty sure I'm experiencing. I don't feel like I can give 100% to anyone or anything. I just want to lie in bed in my dark room all day.

The frustrating thing is I can't even tell if this medicine I'm taking is starting to work because my circumstances have been so all over the place since I began it about four weeks ago. While I was in Malawi, I felt great, relaxed, at peace. Then as soon as I walked through the door, I felt the rush of stress return. And then the SCL thing fucked everything up. Then I left for another week of hectic work travel.

My prayers have shifted from wanting everything to be good, to wanting everything to be neutral, to wanting everything to be not totally fucked up for a few weeks so I can see if this medicine is kicking in.

Seriously, universe, cut me some slack.

Can I Stop Wanting What I Want?

2011-06-12T13:20:00.000-04:00

What I want more than anything is to stop wanting what I want. If only I could say with sincerity that I am satisfied with my life as it is, that the good things about it are enough for me, and that anything else--a relationship, children, money--would be a bonus.

Being in a partnership and having a family are central to the vision I have for my life, so how do I go about not wanting them? The way some people talk about love, the simple wanting of something in this arena, much less striving for it even, means that we probably won't find it.

"It'll come to you when you're not looking for it."

I can't force myself to quit looking for something I desire. It'd be like like trying to ignore the rumbling of an empty stomach or the sandpaper feeling of a parched throat. I might be able to distract myself momentarily, but the idea of satiation is never going to escape me.

I like the idea of being satisfied within myself, but I have no idea how to go about it.

When I first started taking voice lessons, I was in heaven. I loved the practice, I loved trying new exercises, and I was in love with the idea that it was just a matter of time before I perfected my art. Then at some point I crossed the threshold of blissful ignorance to the painful realization of understanding how much I didn't know and how much I couldn't do, and not having any cultivated any real skill yet, I fell into a place of frustration.

That's how I feel now. I know how much I have to learn about being at peace with myself, but I have no idea how to go about achieving it. But, if like with my voice, I can manage to push through this period of despair, I do believe I'll learn something important, something to take with me through this journey that will help.

The Plot

2011-06-11T12:11:00.004-04:00

She won't call it a set up, but that's exactly what it is.

The first time my supervisor L talked to me about her stepson was last September. I had just gone through my second break-up with SCL and had begun dating Dr. Nutrition a few weeks earlier. She described him as the funniest person and the best listener she'd ever met. And he was newly single.

When L threw a surprise retirement party for her husband back in December, she'd been sure that the stepson and I had the opportunity to spend some time together. She was right; he was funny. I couldn't tell about the good listener part as we only spent a few minutes together, but I got a good feeling from him. He lives in North Carolina, and when I mentioned I was thinking about moving there, he told me to let him know if I went through with it, and that he'd be my friend.

I pretty much thought was the end of that. I'd eventually decided to stick it out in DC and try to put a new life together there. It wasn't going to do me any good to fantasize about a life in NC, especially not with a man I didn't really know. But then last week on our way to Malawi, L asked if I wanted to come spend the last weekend in June with them while her husband's son was visiting.

Whenever she talks about him, I get this embarrassed grin on my face. I'm flattered that she thinks we'd made a good match. And I absolutely love the idea of potentially being in their family. Obviously that's not enough to constitute a relationship, but it's certainly not a bad place to start. Already having a loving relationship with potential future-in-laws puts me in a better position than I ever was dating SCL, whose parents treated me incredibly unfairly.

Despite all the potential good things that could come of this, there are a lot of potential not-so-good things, too. First of all, it's sort of mixing romance with work. Second, I'm still raw from what happened last week. I'm not sure I'm in the place to give someone new a chance. But after thinking it over (and L assuring me there was no pressure), I decided that it's not that big of a risk. If nothing else, it'll be a weekend of home-cooked meals and peach mojitos. So, what the hell? I got a ticket and we'll see what happens.

One other interesting thing about this guy: I have dated and/or had a crush on every Gospel writer name...except for one. A few years ago, I decided I'd eventually meet a man with the final name and marry him. And the stepson just happens to have that name.

A Hot Mistake

2011-06-09T18:31:00.001-04:00

I've been at Lake Eerie for work the last several days, and like most of the country, it's been hotter than hell. My meetings have been in an open-air auditorium, and I've literally had to peel the back of my shirt from the back of my stadium seat each time I had to stand up to get more water. Despite being a church gathering, I resorted to wearing my least conservative clothes--short shorts and tank top that shows my bra straps--because I just couldn't stand it otherwise.

What about the heat warning made me think taking a nice long run at 5 pm yesterday sounded like a good idea is beyond me. But off I went, into the blazing sun with no water bottle but tons of determination. I ran along the lake for a few miles, getting a few strange looks from people who had only stepped quickly into the heat to get their mail or water their parched lawn. Determined to get in a good workout, I kept on pounding the boiling pavement.

At some point I noticed that I wasn't really sweating...and that I was getting the chills. In 100 degree weather. That started to freak me out, so I slowed my gait down to a light jog and turned around to head back to my hotel. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw a water fountain, but thankfully it didn't disappoint and I drank for several minutes straight, resulting in a serious case of water belly. When I eventually made my way back, I stumbled into my room dizzy, exhausted, and nauseated.

I am stubborn as shit. I can throw myself into a mind-over-matter mentality, no matter how bad the matter is telling me to stop whatever it is I'm doing. And I think the same is true of my relationship with my ex. I was determined to keep running down that path, no matter how much pain or suffering it caused.

Today when I woke up, the heat had broken, and it was a cool, overcast morning. The perfect running weather.

The heat will break. I just have to wait until it does, and then go for it.

Enough

2011-06-08T06:30:00.002-04:00

I think I've ranted about most, if not all, of the things I needed to about running into the ex and his new girl (aka The Obsession). It was the long time comin' final nail in the coffin of our dead relationship. As much as it fucking hurts, there's nowhere to go but forward because I'm sure as hell not staying in the same place.

I'm not sure at what point in our relationship I handed him the keys to my happiness and never asked for them back. But, I want them back. I want it all back.

The inner critic--the little bastard who lives in our head and shouts nasty things to us all day--has been having a fucking field day with this situation. He's been yelling at me non-stop since Thursday night, and basically, I'm ready for him to shut the fuck up. Enough already.

Truth is, I'll never know what went on in my ex's head or what his situation is now or how things could've been different if I'd held back more or asked for less or learned to live in a state of complacency rather than asking for what I wanted. I could spend the rest of my life trying to figure this thing out, but what kind of life would that be?

Is it possible not to take to heart the fact that you weren't what someone else wanted? And not just anyone else, but the person you loved the most? Just who I was wasn't enough for him. Shouldn't that turn me off instead of making me feel like I should have just been someone else? I'm trying to move away from the latter and into the former. Because damn it, I am enough. I can't let his acceptance, or lack thereof, serve as the measuring stick of my worthiness as a human being.

Enough, inner critic. Enough, ex-boyfriend. Enough already. Because I am enough.

What I Wanted

2011-06-07T06:58:00.001-04:00

I wanted to be the one to be move on and have a new partner before he did. It only seemed fair after I'd had my heart broken to be the one to mend first. I threw myself back out there, started dating and even fell for a few of the assholes I encountered. Somehow he can live essentially as a recluse and get a new girlfriend.

I wanted him to be lonely and miserable because of it. Instead I was there for him, letting him string me along as I spoke sugar-coated lies of false hope to myself that maybe now that the circumstances were different, he'd realize that we belonged together.

It's not that I want him back. I don't, at least for the most part. I'm just pissed that he gets the girl, and I get nothing.

What I want now is to forget him, to remove every trace of him from my memory, to extract every dream of a life with him from my mind. To quit torturing myself over him and what I could have done differently, to stop replaying Thursday's confrontation in my head.

I want out of this sinking hole. I want something to start making sense to me. The pain of this will never go away completely, I don't think. But I want something to click for me, something that reinforces that this was never the life I was supposed to live.

I want to meet someone who reassures me that my ex wasn't the best I'd ever get.

The Accusation

2011-06-06T07:05:00.003-04:00

"You're trying to manipulate me."

That was the ex's response to me crying that I just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

For the record, I wasn't. I would never imagine saying something that serious to someone just to hurt them or scare them. What I said was how I felt in that moment, but he couldn't understand that.

About three weeks ago, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. I'd been having what my therapist called "depressive episodes" for over six months. These episodes were irregular and usually sparked by some trauma (usually having to do with the ex), but no matter the reason for them, the feeling they brought was the same each time: despair that nothing will ever get better.

With the help of my therapist and my own strong will, I managed to claw my way out of these trenches with exercise, eating well, journaling, spending time with friends, etc., but each time another one hit and I was hurled back into the valley, my energy to pull myself out again felt more and more depleted, and my faith in the universe diminished.

The episodes began happening at shorter intervals, every few weeks. Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I sobbed to my therapist that I couldn't keep doing this over and over again. The next day I had an appointment with my primary care provider to discuss starting a medication to help me deal.

I rattled off the things I had tried to help myself out of this: exercise, meditation, good diet, regular therapy sessions, journaling, vitamin D supplements, self-help books, distractions. But nothing was was working anymore. I felt helpless.

"In all my time working here, I've never seen anyone try as hard as you have to help yourself out of depression," the doctor said gently. "You aren't giving up. You're sick, and it isn't your fault." I started crying; I felt so relieved to hear someone else say that what I was going through wasn't something a normal person could endure on her own. I started on Lexapro the following day. The doctor said it could take up to a month to begin working. So far I haven't experienced any relief, just fatigue and a few lost pounds. But I'm putting my faith in the pills; it's the best I've got at the moment.

The Idea of You

2011-06-05T10:39:00.001-04:00

I understand on an intellectual level that I what I actually miss about my ex is mostly the idea of him. I miss the hodgepodge of two years' worth of good memories I've welded together and repackaged to myself as "our relationship." Truthfully, while we certainly had many good times together, more often than not I had a lingering suspicion that caused me to doubt my standing with him. Turns out it was founded in the thing I feared the most--there was someone else.

But on a visceral level, my whole being longs for him now more than ever. I long for him to feel something other than disgust towards me. I'd rather him lash out than ignore me like he's doing now. Every second of silence sends me deeper into my psychological ravine.

I wish I could hate him. I wish seeing him with the girl he always loved more made me despise him. Even more so, I wish I could feel nothing more than indifference towards him. Like the way he looked at me the other night. Some shock was in his eyes, but no trace of hurt, anger, or guilt. Just a look of, "Why the hell do I have to deal with you right now?"

I saw the potential in him. And that is what I cannot seem to let go of--believing in a better version of himself. He may accuse me of many things, but what he should not dare question was my deep faith in him. I strove to be encouraging of his desires, even when he told me about the girl. I remember telling him, "You have three options with her. Cut her out, learn to be her friend, or go for it."

I never imagined he'd actually choose the last option. He was my heart, and I was his stand-in. He strung me along and treated me unfairly, and now he gets the girl? I used to believe that this heartache meant something better was on the way. But now that just feels like a lie I've been telling myself.

He ruined me.

2011-06-04T09:14:00.001-04:00

For just a moment I wish I could force him to feel the weight and the depth and the seriousness of the pain he's caused me. It would probably break him to feel something that strongly. I know that despite my not leaving bed yesterday or even brushing my teeth that somehow I am the stronger one. I'm not forced to compartmentalize my emotions. I somehow bear them even when I feel like I can't.

He told me nothing he could say would satisfy me. No, nothing he could say would put the pieces of me back together that he broke over and over again. He ruined me.

He referred to the "problems" we had. If he thinks that anything other than his inability to be transparent with me was the root of our issues, then he is deluded beyond my comprehension. We would have either broken up sooner, minimizing the pain on my end, or we would have been able to work through it.

I have re-played our confrontation in my mind a thousand times. I'm glad I didn't yell at her, as much as I wanted to. I imagine slapping him with the force of my entire being--and I wonder if given the chance if I really would. If I really could hit the cheek I used to kiss with deep love and affection. Physical pain seems like the only harm I could cause him. He looked at me with no guilt or shame in his eyes--just indifference and disconnection.

My life is a cosmic joke.

Clinging to the Edge

2011-06-03T07:07:00.001-04:00

Jet-lagged beyond exhaustion, I stumbled down the five blocks to the park in my neighborhood. I'd just essentially sleepwalked off the Ethiopian Airlines flight early that morning after the more than twenty-four journey back to the United States from Malawi. Determined to jump start my circadian rhythm and uphold my typical "good girl" standards, I joined my Bocce team for the playoff games at what felt like one in the morning to my confused, aching body.

There are so many "if only"s running through my brain, like on an iPod playlist on shuffle and repeat. If only we'd played on a different court. Or if I'd only decided to give into the jet leg and fell asleep at 3 pm EST. Then maybe I wouldn't have seen him.

I recognized the sandals he was wearing, the ones he bought for our trip to St. Lucia where we'd spent a week in each other's arms. We'd spend the days soaking in the sun and drinking cocktails, and spent the nights making love in the moonlight rising in between the Pitons.

Now instead of me, she was with him. The girl who captured his heart nearly ten years ago. The one I'd never live up to. The one he longed for as I struggled to make him love me. I watched as they walked arm in arm across the grass, carrying a picnic and a blanket. Something we used to do back when I used to think he loved me. And then I saw him kiss her.

As I walked towards them, I saw that he was wearing the jeans I'd bought him for Christmas our first year of dating. They'd faded significantly from the indigo blue they were when I bought them. When we lived together I I did our laundry, and I always took care to wash them inside out and hung them to dry. Tender and gentle, even with the clothes he wore.

I shocked them, I know. But my confrontation could have never delivered the kind of continuous punch to the gut I was experiencing. When my mom reflects on her divorce from my father, she'll often say, "Everything I feared would happen....happened." Here was my biggest fear happening--he had moved on before I had. He has the girl he'd always wanted. And I have nothing.

How do you cling to the edge when there's nothing there to dig your fingers into?

Good Day Sunshine

2011-05-04T09:54:00.001-04:00

Well, not in DC. It's rainy, gross, and not going to break 60 degrees today. But, I've still got a smile on my face because where I'm going on vacation on Friday, the forecast is this:

Have you ever seen more perfect weather? I can't wait to get my beach on with some of my favorite ladies in the world.

Wondering how classy of a place this is? It happens to be the home of...

That's right, a mullet throwing contest. Packing for this trip might be a challenge, seeing as how I'm lacking in jean cut-offs.

Flor-Bama, here we come!

Jagged Little Pills

2011-05-02T16:03:00.001-04:00

With just three weeks and a few days standing between me and my trip to Malawi, the preparations are in full swing. I spent nearly 2 hours on the phone with my boss this morning, planning our 3-hour seminar on health, healing, and wholeness for the community of Mzuzu. We'll be engaging local health advocates and of course, the attendees will drive the conversation. We're really just going to be there to help facilitate a conversation. But, what an opportunity.

I had a moral crisis about this trip a few weeks ago. I was standing in line at the Target pharmacy with a prescription for Malarone, a very good anti-malaria pill. My right arm was covered in bandages from injections--tetanus booster, Hepatitis A, and typhoid. The travel clinic didn't take insurance, so I'd put the $300 bill on my AmEx. The Malarone pills cost more than $100 for a 14-day supply. Again, I swiped the AmEx, and made sure to put the receipt in a safe place--not because I'd be filing an insurance claim, hoping I'd get some if back, but because my work would be reimbursing me in full. I'd simply code the injections and pills to my "travel account" on my next check requisition form.

When the pharmacist handed me the bottle of little white pills, it hit me: damn, that's some privilege there. Just a phone call to a doctor's office, a Metro ride, and an AmEx got me a prescription to prevent a disease that kills 2 people every minute. And even though I don't have to pay for it myself, I could if I needed to.

I'm still not quite sure what to do with this guilt. I know that not taking the pills does not do me--or anyone else for that matter--any good--no sense in me acquiring a disease and having to seek medical attention while I'm there. That's why I've been doing all of my routine check-ups and getting in good shape before I leave; I want to be completely and totally there to experience it all at my best. But, it's the fact that I have access to quality care and others do not that's got me in a metaphorical headlock.

So, let's do something. $10 buys a bed net to protect a family from the disease. You can go visit Imagine No Malaria to donate. I'm going there now.

My thoughts on eHarmony

2011-04-28T17:48:00.000-04:00

My subscription ends this weekend, and I have no interest in renewing it. I signed up in one of my panicky moments after SCL and I broke up, thinking I needed to take charge and get on the prowl, and while I almost choked on the price tag, I wasn't exactly in the clearest state of mind. So, I just went for it anyway.

God, I wish I could get that money back.

At first it was really exciting to get matches "delivered" everyday. I took a pro-active approach, religiously going through each profile and requesting communication with any of them I found remotely attractive. I did, however, rule out any profile with a picture that made me scream. My strategy was to keep the pool as big as possible with the thought that you never know whom you will have chemistry with.

This strategy, as it turns out, is flawed because eHarmony takes a LONG ASS time to get through guided communication with someone. There's a ton of back and forth before you even get to e-mail (although you can skip straight to it, but because the "norm" on the site is to go through guided communication, skipping it can feel like rushing). And, I felt like I needed at least some time to pass in between responding, so by the time you get past the inane "what's your idea of fun" and must-haves/can't stands and three questions, at least a week has passed.

I went out on a few eHarmony dates, none of which had a spark. None of which I even feel deserve a link back to them in this post.

In short, I should've listened to Katie's advice that it would be a waste of my time. And my money. Maybe I'm just not patient enough, but the whole process was exhausting to me. It would suck to go through guided communication and then not hear from someone again--and I know I did it to others as well. I know lots of people, at least according to the commercials they play on TLC, find their loves on the online, but they must be a) lucky or b) a helluva lot more patient than me.

The Good Earth (Friday)

2011-04-22T13:34:00.000-04:00

I am trying a different kind of post, one that speaks to an area I rarely have discussed here. I know it's a shift from my usual post, but as some have suggested, I am trying something new here. Would love to hear your thoughts!
_________
Interesting that Good Friday and Earth Day fall on the same day this year. I wish I had some deep enviro-ethical thing to say about this, but my theology brain has gone on what seems like a permanent vacation. Unless it pertains to maternal health, in which case I can usually whip something together.

From the looks of things Earth Day is getting a lot more coverage. This makes sense on many levels. The environment is just beginning to get some of the much-deserved attention it requires. It's mostly non-sectarian, unless you think Earth doesn't deserve its own holiday. And, as for Good Friday, who really likes talking about ancient torture, humiliation, and death?

Answer: seminary students. Apart from them, not really anyone. But, I digress.

Easter is a holiday that one can't really jump ahead of time to celebrate. The 40 days (plus Sundays) of Lent leading up to Easter are marked by introspection, sacrifice, and centering. In my case, it has involved abstinence from all forms of alcohol (and I'm counting the hours down until my first mimosa at Sunday brunch with Katie at our local gay bar.) Basically, it's a whole lot of un-fun. But not pointless un-fun. Really, really important un-fun.

On Wednesday I got to lead a small chapel service in song. I started with "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child." I almost got choked up. It's a spiritual I almost feel unfit to sing; it carries with it the weight of suffering I've never felt. And yet, there is part of me that can connect with the feeling of being "a long way from home." Lent is a time of journeying into the wilderness, of being far away from our "home," our comfort and familiar routine.

Good Friday is the beginning of the end of this journey. It's been a long one for me. And, I'm ready for some Easter joy to cast out the darkness again.

A Pause

2011-04-15T14:12:00.000-04:00

My posting has screeched to a near halt. It started unintentionally but has become less so. Observing some of the less than charitable behavior that goes on online (of which I have certainly been a part of at times) has gotten me thinking about the purpose of my own blog and if it's something I wish to continue.

Whether right or wrong, when you share your life publicly, you open yourself up to criticism. I have not been the exception. I can't say I agree with the idea that having a blog somehow means you have signed up for whatever kind of bullshit people want to hurl at you. (Is human decency a lost art?) But nonetheless, feeling unfairly criticized and judged is part of the blogging territory.

And, I've been feeling like my inner critic, the little bastard that he is, really doesn't need any more ammunition. He does just fine on his own finding things to cut me down. So, do I really need another venue for feeling like a jerk when I screw up in my life?

I started the blog with a pretty clear idea of what I wanted it to be--a blog about what it was like to date a PhD student when I wasn't in school. I had grand notions of providing a community for those in this strange situation. But when I found myself single, the blog became a refuge--one I really needed. I found support and community in the midst of real heartache and pain. And then, it became a dating blog, and that was a shift I was not prepared for. Apparently people have lots of opinions about dating and what people should or shouldn't do--and they like telling you what to do. And, before I realized it, dating had been elevated to a level of importance in my life that I never anticipated. I let it become more important than it should have been.

Which is why I haven't been blogging about dating anymore. I don't want it to take up that space in my life--because it could if I let it. Dates can make a good story. Dating is attached to so many other deeper issues--what I want and desire, how I feel about my future, things that I should really reserve for those closest to me. Unfortunately, I have a problem with spilling my guts to anyone, and it's something I'm working on.

You know, I thought operating under a pseudonym would protect me, but it didn't. It never did. In some ways I think by not having a picture or a real name it made it easier to forget that I was a real person.

This is all to say, I'm not certain what I want to do about the blog, but I know that going forward, I'm going to keep my personal life just that--personal.

Love Advice for Your Mom: Part Deux

2011-03-24T21:46:00.000-04:00

Remember when I told you about my mom's high school boyfriend contacted her out of the blue?

Well, apparently they've been talking. A lot. For the past six weeks. You guys, this is HUGE. After my parents' divorce, my mom swore off men for life. And now she's actually kind of excited about a guy? I can't help but feel a little giddy inside.

Of course, she throws in the self-protective statements like, "I know it won't go anywhere" and "I'll never move back to Alabama," but underneath that I can tell she is really enjoying this reconnection. So, I'm just trying to be supportive, listen well, and encourage her to keep the conversation going.

It's strange--when a friend starts talking about a crush, I sometimes check out because I'm still getting over the relative newness (or the acceptance of) my singleness. But the fact that it's my mom, someone who swore she'd never talk to another man, who never thought she could be pursued by someone, who never thought she'd be open to those feelings--it gives me a lot of hope.

I have experimented with dating again. I thought I was ready. I'm not sure I am just yet. I told my therapist that I pretty much get a sick feeling right before all of my dates; I have this deep sense of not wanting to go through with it. She said, "Sweetie, then why are you doing it?"

I'm doing it because I feel like in order to get what I want, I have to try really, really hard--balls to the wall hard. And if I don't date now, I'm never going to get what I want (hello, inner critic with your unhelpful superlative talk). But, if dating is making me unhappy, then why would I do it?

So, knowing that my mom has just been going about her life as a content single woman and she's found connection again--it just gives me hope. It makes me feel ok about focusing on other things. And, it makes me incredibly happy for the woman who's given so much love to me to be on the receiving end for a change.

She's on Lent

2011-03-19T19:40:00.001-04:00

"No, man. She's on Lent," he said.

The guy with the shot of tequila in his hand looked at me with a look of horror, puzzlement, and drunkenness. Apparently I was "on" Lent. Like... "on my period." Frankly I think stating the latter would have horrified the guy less than saying I'd voluntarily given up alcohol for 40 days (actually--with Sundays, it's like 46 days).

Not drinking has been an adjustment, especially in social settings. Especially in awkward social settings. Most especially on first dates like last night.

In retrospect, I never should have agreed to go to the bar and meet up with his friends. We'd had a nice dinner and for a first date, it was actually pretty relaxed even without the customary glass of wine. But, I wish it had ended there instead of at the crowded bar with everyone else in a drunken stupor and me completely sober. It wasn't just that though--he'd told me we were going to the Carlyle, so I'd gotten dressed up in a cute LBD and high heets to boot. It wasn't exactly bar hoppin' attire.

I sucked down my Coca-Cola, danced for awhile, watched the Georgetown game, but by about midnight, my feet were aching and I was ready to go home. Even though he'd driven me, I offered to take a cab home. I could tell he wanted to stay, and he didn't insist on driving me home, which was probably a good thing because he'd been drinking quite a bit. No cash on hand, I was going to look for an ATM when he handed me a $20, which I almost refused but decided to take.

I hopped in the cab, he said he'd call me, and off I went. A few minutes after I got home, he texted to see if I'd gotten home ok. "Yep, thanks! Enjoy the rest of your night."

He texted back, "Can I enjoy it with you? :-)" But I'd already fallen asleep, fortunately.

Why I Feel REALLY Lucky to Have My Job

2011-02-23T15:18:00.000-05:00

I got to sit inside the United Nations General Assembly yesterday for the Opening Ceremonies of the 55th Commission on the Status of Women.

Really, I've got nothing to complain about.

Um...I Have a Date?

2011-02-21T22:25:00.000-05:00

Just today I was standing in line, waiting for my badge to enter the United Nations for the Commission on the Status of Women, when I thought to myself the most shallow thing ever, which was: "I am never going to meet a man through my work." As it turns out, most dudes aren't that interested in working for women-specific causes. Most of the time, I don't mind that; in fact, it can be pretty awesome to be in a room full of passionate, powerful women. The energy is something like none other. But when it comes to scoping out the men folk, it's not so good for that.

After enjoying my latest takeout meal and lounging in pajamas, I was reading through my conference booklet (aka playing Snood on my laptop) when I get a text. A text from Mr. Tennis Pro. Don't remember him? Well, I actually never wrote about him. He contacted me via eHarm back in October when I was in the middle of my cross-country tour. This guy was persistent and patient, and after a few phone calls, I totally blew him off. I was just getting to the point where I couldn't stand dating anymore, and I had to say to him (and one or two others) that I was sorry, but I just couldn't do the dating thing right now. He responded with a frowny face and to let him know if I changed my mind.

I figured this would be a total turn-off for the guys I turned down. Apparently not for Mr. Tennis Pro (who is not only a tennis pro; he is also a business analyst, but tennis pro is more fun to say.) When I said I was surprised to hear from him, he said he'd found me intriguing. Then he asked when I'd be back and promptly asked me out for dinner and drinks the day after--and that he'd call me the day before to work out the details.

Persistent. Apparently doesn't hold a grudge. Bold. I can work with that.

So, apparently I have a date on Saturday night.

You've Got a Lot of Nerve

2011-02-19T13:27:00.000-05:00

So it seems that my job is getting in the way of my blogging. I hate when that happens! I'm off to New York for the week, but before I go, I just had to write about this.

Yesterday I was having a good day. A fantastic day, actually. After a few really rough days of work, I had gotten an invitation to meet with some of the House Foreign Affairs staff. It had gone really well, and I was feeling like maybe I actually have a chance to, I don't know, impact something for real for once. On my walk back to the Metro, I was talking with my colleague when I decided to quickly check my email on my phone.

"What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?" All my lady-likeness and politeness I'd managed to muster up for my Hill meeting had dissipated instantly. Because at the top of my email was this.

"Dr. Nutrition would like to add you to his professional network on LinkedIn."

WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!

Let me refresh your memory. Dr. N and I went out for about two months when he decided just to completely blow me off, even after I'd given him an easy out. It hurt my feelings, pissed me off, but it wasn't the end of the world. Whatever, guys can be dicks about that shit. But then after that, he has the balls to send me a LinkedIn invitation out of nowhere?

Not to hate on LinkedIn, but requests to be added to someone's network are even less personal and more generic than a Facebook friend request. Usually it's something I reserve for people with whom I've worked and with whom I am on good terms. To be clear, Dr. Nutrition and I are not on good terms because he blew me off and hasn't talked to me for 4 months.

So, I respond to his out-of-the-blue request with a one word e-mail. "Seriously?"

I didn't expect him to respond. But within an hour, I got this reply:

"Hi, how have you been? I'm sorry for how things ended between us, but I'd like to maintain a professional relationship...if possible. Since we talked, I became chair of this new organization. I've attached some information and I'd love for you to join. Look it over and let me know if you want to be a member. Have a great weekend! Dr. Nutrition."

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT? You blow me off, you don't talk to me for MONTHS, and now you want me to do you a fucking favor? You want me to JOIN your organization?!

There were so many things I wanted to say in response. But, I restrained myself. I simply said, "Best of luck. Sorry, I don't have time for any more commitments. If you want to expand your membership, I recommend contacting this and that person. Best, Me."

Look, Dr. Nutrition. DC is a small fucking town, and you burned a bridge with me--a bridge to fantastic. Had you been decent enough to tell me that things weren't working out, it would've taken me some time, but we could definitely be cordial with one another. But since you didn't have the balls to be honest, I don't owe you a fucking thing.

Sweet Carolina

2011-02-07T13:15:00.001-05:00

Back in October, I spent my entire six-hour drive back from my 5 year college reunion in Davidson, NC plotting how I'd get back there permanently. I don't think anyone could blame me for it. The combination of nostalgia, reconnecting, beautiful weather, not to mention my then general distaste for all things DC, was too enticing not to consider. I thought about it for a few weeks, discovered I could actually do it without losing my current job, had a conversation with my boss, my mom, and my therapist. I blogged about it. And then predictably after a few weeks it kind of faded into the background, no longer at the forefront of my mind.

Until last week. My uncle, who lives in Durham, emailed me to see if I was still interested in moving to North Carolina. He's building a new house and while his condo is on the market, he wants me to come stay there to keep an eye on the place. Rent free. Currently I am paying out the nose for a bedroom in a shared house where I have no privacy other than in my bedroom and am awakened daily by a pissy chihuahua. So, I'm being offered a chance to live in a beautiful two-bedroom condo for free. In North Carolina. Within six hours of my family. And I can keep my current job. When I do need to come back to DC, it's only a four-hour drive or a measly 45 minute flight. It feels like an offer I can't refuse.

This is how I figure it. I go live there for the rest of the 2011 while I still have my current job. I save up some money (hello, no rent) and begin making a professional network there. If when December comes around, my current contract is not removed, I begin looking for jobs in the Research Triangle. Worst case scenario is I land a job in DC or elsewhere and have to move again, but with some extra cash set aside.What if the condo sells? My uncle has already offered me the entire top floor of his new house where I'd have room for a separate office for the rest of the year.

Seriously, I feel like I can't lose. It's a low-risk opportunity to try something new on a trial basis. I feel like I have to go for it.

Love Advice for Your Mom

2011-01-29T18:30:00.001-05:00

And no, I'm not making a "your mom" joke, as hilarious as those can be. I'm talking about mi madre and our phone conversation today, which took quite the unexpected turn.

"I have to tell you my news. My high school boyfriend emailed me today," she said, with more than a little nervous excitement in her voice.

Not to get into my family history too much, but my parents had a horrible relationship and a long, drawn out divorce that left some nasty scars on all of us. My mom pretty much shut the door to any future relationships, and I can't say I blame her. She has every right to see the potential negatives outweighing the potential positives of dating in mid-life. But, I've always wondered if deep down she'd really like to have a significant other in her life in some way. I know she's been asked out several times, but never has she agreed. For the most part she's accepted her aloneness as ok, and even enjoyable most of the time.

But this old school flame definitely still has a piece of her heart. I know for a fact that she's googled him over the years and kept up with him from a distance, but she never worked up the nerve to contact him. So when she woke up to find an email from him in her inbox, she was excited. Even though she was trying to disguise it as shock to me, I knew better.

"I haven't written him back yet. What do you say in a situation like this?" she asked.

(Wait a second, is my mom asking me for love advice? I don't know how to handle this!)

"Well, what did he write to you?" I asked.

It sounded to me like a normal, "I'd like to get back in touch and see how life's treated you" kind of exchange. But then again, I can't imagine what it would be like to hear from someone I hadn't talked to in nearly 35 years. After high school my mom moved from Alabama to Virginia, and she completely lost touch with this guy.

"But he's single!" she said.

I didn't want to state the obvious: that this was a good thing. I think even the thought of someone being remotely interested in her freaks her out. I wish she'd get over herself and see how awesome she is and that any man would be thrilled to have someone like her in his life. Then again, when you live with someone for most of your adult life who makes you feel like garbage, it's probably hard to believe anyone would want you.

She's going to write him back. And there's part of me that secretly wishes a little romance for my mom. She's certainly earned it after busting her butt for my brothers and me, dealing with a lot of shit along the way. If nothing else, I hope it makes her feel good and reconnects her with a past that was happy.

They Say It's Your Birthday

2011-01-23T17:36:00.000-05:00

Oh, the birthday of an ex. It's a weird day, right? It's difficult, if not impossible, not to think of them. Even without the reminder of Facebook, I would still remember them because for years they were important dates, days I spent planning dinners out, baking (ok, more likely ordering) cakes, and wrapping presents. And it's weird not to wish them a happy birthday. The other 364 days of the year, it seems perfectly acceptable to act as if the person doesn't exist in your world, but on a birthday, it's hard to ignore them. Or, I guess what I mean is on any other day, it really isn't ignoring them, but birthdays are different.

So, when SCL's birthday was on the horizon, naturally I began to think about him and last January 21, 2010. He and I spent the evening at a nice Indian restaurant in Old Town, and later cuddled up on the couch with full glasses of wine and indulgent slices of chocolate cake. I had put together an album of our pictures from St. Lucia, and we looked through them, recalling the the feeling of closeness, of intimacy, of the fun we'd shared there. Even though things between us had probably already begun to deteriorate, it was a good day, which is a dangerous thing when you're looking for a sign of hope that things will finally be fine again.

When I look back at who I was to SCL, I see myself as the one who nurtured him, who looked out for him, who made sure he got out and did fun things because it hardly ever occurred to him that doing so was important. And even now it's hard for me to break out of that mindset. I worried, would he have a lonely day? Who would buy him a cake? Would he go out to dinner? Would anyone besides his mom wish him a happy birthday? Sure, it isn't my responsibility to make sure these things happen, but there's part of me that still cares.

I didn't buy him a gift or even a card. I didn't send his friends a message to remind them of his birthday. I didn't plan a happy hour or a group dinner or make him a Duncan Hines cake. But when he called to see if I wanted to come over for a bit, I said sure. We ordered some pizza (I paid), some beer and ice cream (he paid) and watched Big Love together. It was nothing like last year--there were no kisses or fancy wine or getting dressed up. But, it was good to spend time together, as exes attempting to be friends.

Maybe we'll make the friend thing work after all. .

The Fleeting Sting of Rejection

2011-01-17T17:10:00.000-05:00

At the beginning of the month, I was contacted by an organization to do some part-time work doing social media strategizing. Flattered and excited, I'd immediately written back that I was definitely interested and got to work putting together a presentation that I was sure would "wow" them. After spending a few late nights at Starbucks, getting to know the organization's website and and perfecting my proposal, I nailed the interview. As far as I could tell, the job was in the bag. Until I got the an email from them. I could tell by the subject line that I didn't get it--it was too generic, neutral, and succinct to be a "Come join our team!" message. Boo.

Now, I'm thankful that I didn't need this job, something I almost feel guilty about. I know there are lots and lots of people desperate for work, and I've already got a job I'm crazy about. I guess part of me was feeling a little greedy (more work= more $$ = new Frye boots!), but it was also about having an opportunity to gain new skills and experience. I had decided 2011 would be the "year of work" and that I was fine with committing myself to a 55+ hour work week.

So, even though it's probably best in the long run that I didn't get this job, the rejection still stung a bit. As soon as I read the email I felt myself getting defensive, telling myself I didn't really want this position anyway. But really what I was feeling was inadequate. What had I done or not done to miss out on this opportunity? I went over my words, my proposal, my resume, trying to think what had been the kicker misstep. Basically, I was trying to find my own screw up.

We can tell ourselves not to take rejection personally--that it has nothing to do with us, but it's the circumstances or the other person or some other thing out of our control. But in the end, we're stuck with our rejection, trying to figure it out. It's perfectly understandable that we might immediately jump into self-criticism because a lot of times we don't get any answers and we're left to our devices to make sense of it all.

At first I wished I hadn't told anyone about the interview. I knew I was going to be asked about it, and I didn't want to admit to anyone that I'd been passed up. I felt embarrassed. So, when I did get asked about it, I pulled the, "Well, it really wasn't a good fit for me anyway" line. I didn't want to say, "My feelings are hurt that I didn't get it." Rejection is hard on its own, but it's even tougher when there's an audience. I feel like I've got to toughen up, get over it.

And in a few days, I did. But I didn't deny myself that bit of time of just feeling bummed out. It's good to get excited over possible opportunities and put our hearts and head into it. I'm glad I felt invested enough to feel the sting of rejection a bit. And I'm thankful for family and friends who remind me that I'm good at what I do, second job or not.

Put a Little Love in Your Heart

2011-01-13T17:50:00.000-05:00

Between the post-holidays blues, the cold weather, and of course, the horrors of the Arizona shootings, I could use a little more love right now. And what better way to achieve that than by getting out of my little cave of a bedroom, putting on some pants, and spending time doing something for someone else.

The coolest volunteer opportunity came along this morning, and I jumped at the chance. In honor of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, there will be service projects taking place all over DC this weekend. One of the groups I'm involved with got the most awesome project--helping sort and organize the children's section of one of the big DC libraries. I can't think of a more fun way to give back to the community!

And, it's open to anyone who wants to help! So, if you're in DC and are free for a few hours on Saturday morning, let me know if you want to come help out by sending an email at thenonstudent (at) gmail (dot) com, and I'll give you the details. Hope to see some of you there!

What We Do for (Sort of) Friends

2011-01-11T14:43:00.002-05:00

I had made the mistake of signing into Facebook chat one evening when a message from my grad school friend S popped up:

"r u coming 2 my ordination?"

Ah, the dilemma of such a simple question, a question I'd been asked by S on what felt like a daily basis. One I had successfully evaded for the last month or so.

"not sure. need to check my schedule. gotta run. bye!"

I quickly logged out of Facebook and into my Google calendar, hoping to find some legitimate excuse--a work event, a professional development training, even a teeth-cleaning--for that day so I could give a firm "No" without a guilty conscience. But nope, nothing--just blank.

"Crap," I thought. "I'm either going to have to go to this thing or come up with an excuse to miss a really important event in my friend's life."

Let me just say, I know I'm not a perfect friend. But I am one who generally shows up when it counts, and I'm happy to do so. Everything from wedding dress shopping to apartment-searching, I like to be there when my friends need me. I even went to another friend's ordination (snotting and sobbing most of the time, but I showed up!) the day that SCL broke up with me last March. For a good friend, there is nothing more special than being part of the highs and lows of life.

But, then there's friends like S. It's not that I don't like her. I do like her. A lot. But, she isn't what I'd call a good friend. We get along well, and we've been through shit together, but when it comes to her actually showing up when it counts, she just can't manage it. She has made bailing a habit, citing headaches or cramps or being tired or just "not feeling like it" for backing out of plans with friends. In fact, she canceled her own birthday party which she'd invited dozens of friends to at the very last second just a few weeks ago. While she has a lot of lovely attributes, reliabilty isn't one of them.

So, when she asks me (repeatedly) to come to her ordination a few hours away, I really don't want to say yes. Part of it is that I don't want to spend the time going there and back, but it's more than that. I think it's more knowing that if I asked her to do the same for me, she'd probably wouldn't show up. Because she hasn't in the past. Repeatedly. It's a pattern I doubt will change. At the same time, should I allow her behavior to shape what kind of friend I am in return?

When I logged back into Facebook again later that night, my newsfeed was littered with messages my friend S had posted to others' walls, very similar to the one she sent me: "r u coming?" "hope u can make my ordination!" "can u sing at my ceremony?" etc. I realized her hurried invitation to me over Facebook chat wasn't really heartfelt or thoughtful, and I wonder how much it would really mean to her if I showed up. I began to think maybe it's more about her getting a critical mass there instead of my individual presence. And if that's the case, I think I can cut myself a break on this one.

Hurry Girl, It's Waiting There For You

2011-01-05T13:08:00.000-05:00

Africa, that is. (Points if you got the somewhat altered Toto reference in the title!) Specifically Zimbabwe. Or Mozambique. Or Malawi. Or Kenya. Or some combination of these.

While my work focuses on international women's health, I haven't had the opportunity to travel outside the US since starting the project last January. I wouldn't consider myself that well-traveled anyway. I spent a semester studying in Italy and hit as many European highlights as I could, taking dirty Italian overnight trains to Paris, staying at sketchy hostels in Madrid and Barcelona, and toting a Jansport backpack all the way. I've been to Costa Rica on a legit mission type trip, and the Bahamas and St. Lucia for vacation. So really, Costa Rica is the only place I got any sense of the Global South, and among developing countries, it's pretty stable and relatively economically sound.

Since starting work on international health, I've felt a growing urgency to see more of the world, not as a tourist (although travel for pleasure is awesome) but to connect with grassroots health advocacy. It's not just a way to build some credibility in the work that I do, but also for me to see with my own eyes what the situation is like for folks on the ground, hear the stories, and work together with them as allies. And now, it's really going to happen!

I have two awesome opportunities, and I need to pick one and soon. Like, by the end of the week. Yikes!

The first is a 3-week trip to Zimbabwe, working on a mission team and doing some construction at a hospital. It's a little on the long side, and while I think it'd be personally enriching, I'm not sure it's the best fit for my work. I really want to talk with people one-on-one, and I think I'd be more in the background. On the flip side, it's in August which is a great time to travel since Congress is out of session.

The second would be a shorter, possibly two-country trip to Malawi and Mozambique. In Malawi, I'd get to visit some AIDS projects and in Mozambique, I'd be attending a multi-country conference on domestic violence. And, it would be right before some big trips I have in the US, which isn't great timing but it would also build my credibility before I go stand in front of groups, telling them why they should support international health efforts.

I've got a lot to think about. But whichever I choose, it's going to be an amazing experience!

Don't Be Tardy for the Party

2010-12-31T15:12:00.000-05:00

My bestie from childhood invited me to ring in the New Year in the ATL. Rather than dropping $100 on tickets to some overrated NYE party, we decided to get our club fix last night at Tongue and Groove in Buckhead. Turns out, we weren't the only ones with this bright idea and ended up waiting in line, shivering in the cold for a good half hour. Why they wouldn't just let everyone in, I don't know. Let's be real; this is Atlanta, not New York. The club was next to a damn Taco Mac and a Five Guys.

Once we finally got inside and avoided paying cover (thanks to a bartender who'd put our names on the list), we waded through the sea of peeps who were, despite rocking music, just standing there. No one except the scantily clad cage dancer was even doing so much as a fist pump. People were just milling around, overpriced drinks in hand, looking like middle schoolers at an overcrowded, smoky sock hop. My bestie, a light weight, and her friend did two shots in a row, so I figured someone ought to stay sober.

We managed to find a spot upstairs to dance. Naturally the douchebags began to pounce. My friend, newly single and a total hottie, was deservedly getting a lot of attention--just not from very nice dudes. My overprotective side came out when one persistent asshole kept grabbing her, even after I pulled her from him away three different times. I yelled in his ear, "She doesn't like you. Go away!" He grabbed her again, and that was it. I was PISSED. I pushed him off of her and shrieked, "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, ASSHOLE!" My bestie's friend turned to her and said, "I like her."

Eventually we found a better spot to dance. One stumbling drunk told me I look like the girl in the Bourne Identity. I told him I live in DC. He said, "Oh, so you must work for the government?" "No, actually I don't." "Good," he replied. "One less person to pay."

Being the sober one in a crowded, smoky club isn't the most fun thing in the world. But the other two were having such a good time that I just had to laugh and join them in dancing up on one of the stages. That's when I realized we were almost at eye level with the DJ, and I realized this was my chance to redeem the night. I was going to get this guy to play my favorite song. I started shouting, "Ceelo! Ceelo!" I made a pathetic attempt at sign language, forming a "C" then an "L" and then an "O" with my hands. He still didn't get it. So, I flicked him off with two hands and mouthed, "Fuck you!"

Hmm. Maybe should have thought that one through first. Quickly I shook my head and said, "No no no!" and did the pathetic sign language again. "Ceelo! Ceelo!" "One minute," he mouthed back. Song after song played, but no Ceelo. The music began winding down and they did a "practice" countdown for NYE. I thought all hope was gone...and then "Fuck you" came on. I started jumping up and down, both of my hands flicking the crowd off and acting a fool as I blew kisses to the DJ, my new best friend.

Who cares if I was sober, had to deal with asshole guys, and got cigarette smoke in my hair? I managed to get the DJ to play the best song of all time. I call that a good night.

Hopes for the New Year

2010-12-30T13:12:00.000-05:00

You'd think an extra day at home to spend with my mom eating Thai food and watching season 2 of Dexter would've made me smile, not cry. But knowing that eventually I'd have to leave home again and return to the desolate land of my sublet room in Arlington had me in tears. It doesn't matter if I'm there for 2 days or 2 weeks; it never feels like enough.

Don't get me wrong. My family drives me nuts when I'm there. My nephew shot me in the face with a Nerf gun. My oldest brother refused to join my mom and me in Augusta to see my other brother who was on call at the hospital on Christmas, opting instead to go to an NFL game. My mom snored all night long on Christmas, keeping me up and making me want to put a pillow over her face.

And yet, I love them more than anything. I feel like I'm missing so much when I'm in DC. And I'm finally beginning to see that as long as I'm there, it will almost always be me making the trip to see them, not the other way around. In the five and a half years of living a plane ride away from home, I've been visited four times by my mom; two times by my middle brother, and zero times by my oldest brother. It's not that they don't care. It's just...I don't know. I'm the only one far away. Being a plane ride away takes out all the spontaneity of traveling, at least for those of us on a budget. It'd be so much easier if we all could just jump in the car and be together for a random weekend.

Now I'm back thinking that I do want to move, maybe not right away but eventually. My uncle in Chapel Hill is building a new house and his paid-for condo probably won't do well on the market, given the housing situation nationwide. He said, mostly in jest, "It would make my life a lot easier if you'd move to North Carolina." But, it got me thinking about what life would be like there. All of my emotions aside, next to DC the Research Triangle is probably the best place for me work-wise. I was contacted by someone there a few weeks ago who works on population issues. She'd be a great contact. And, I even met a man from there a few weeks ago that I instantly clicked with. I told him I was thinking of moving and he said, "I'd be your friend!"

I'm not into New Year's resolution (although I do plan to join a new gym when I get back to DC, only because my current one smells like a diaper.) But I do have hopes for this year--that it would be a time when something clicks. That I'd get that opportunity, meet that person, realize that one thing that will make the foreseeable future a little less daunting. That I'd realize where I'm supposed to be--DC, NC, or somewhere else--and feel at peace about it. I'm open to all of the possibilities before me.

How to Ruin Christmas for Your Mom

2010-12-22T00:23:00.000-05:00

Step 1. Mention in passing to your mom something you think is "crazy expensive" and that you'd never purchase for yourself.

Step 2. Begin cyberstalking of this product the day after said comment.

Step 3. Find lowest price possible on product and place it into e-cart.

Step 4. Delete product from e-cart.

Step 5. Repeat steps 3 and 4 ad nauseum.

Step 6. Finally muster up enough balls to actually purchase product, justifying it as a "Christmas present for myself."

Step 7. Receive product and excitedly begin using immediately.

Step 8. Mention to mom that you found "an incredible deal" on said product and purchased it for yourself last week.

Step 9. Watch mom's face drop as she tells you she bought you the same thing as your big Christmas gift.

Step 10. Feel like an asshole.

Close Encounters of the Asshole Kind

2010-12-14T10:20:00.001-05:00

Who would have thought that not dating would mean more encounters with assholes? I sure as hell didn't.

Early last week I knew what I'd be walking into. I was asked, as a board member of a non-profit, to be present at a protest--not on the side of the protesters, not even as a counter-protester, but as a "peaceful presence." We were going to be intentionally few in number and that made me nervous. As it turns out, there were 15 of us among 300 angry protesters. Stomach churning, I stood silently, listening to speech after speech of vitriol, wondering how if I were to meet any of those gathered to protest in another setting how things might be different. They might say with a smile, "Hello, how are you? Nice to meet you" instead of,"You're not welcome here" with dagger eyes and clenched fists.

While I'd been prepared for Monday's frustration, I had no idea that later on in the week when I was at a holiday party for a women's organization that it'd be crashed--by men, no less. Men who were there to intimidate and condemn. Men who were there to be assholes--to scream and yell at people gathered for a fucking holiday party. I don't know where I got the strength, but I put my hand on one of their shoulders and (mostly) silently guided them out the door.

Once they left, I lost my composure. I went to the bathroom and cried. I felt disempowered, terrorized, and furious. How could anyone think that it's actually effective for any cause to yell, to intimidate, to crash a holiday party? The thing is, I think some people just want to act like assholes. They don't actually want to further their cause or convince someone to adopt their point of view. I can assure you the party crashers did nothing but make everything at the party think they were crazy douche bags.

But, why do people seem to enjoy being assholes? If I've been even slightly rude to someone, even if it's "called for," I feel like a jerk. So how is that some people seem to thrive being this way?

Which brings me to my next point, online assholes. Why the hell do people spend their time trolling sites and leaving nasty comments? Seriously it would never occur to me to actively go seeking an opportunity to be a jackass. I was in a Twitter conversation with Date Me, DC! about this, and people had a lot to say. The comment that puzzled me the most was something along the lines of, "If you let mean comments get to you, then it says something about you. You need thicker skin"

Thicker skin is the solution to dealing with assholes, huh? I would argue that thick skin--or being calloused-- is exactly what allows people to act like arrogant assholes in the first place. Interesting, when I was at the party and started crying, no one there said, "Hey, get thicker skin. They're just assholes." No, people put their arms around me, listened to me fume, and stood with me. I want to hang onto my humanity, my emotions, my ability to be hurt by other people. It's in part what keeps me from being an asshole in return, even as I'm being screamed at by arrogant pricks.

So, how about this--how about we stop tolerating asshole behavior online and in person? How about when we encounter them, we confront them instead of being silenced and blaming ourselves for feeling hurt and not having thick skin? That way, we can help stop the behavior rather than having to become callous ourselves.

And the Winner is...

2010-12-10T10:18:00.001-05:00

Ashley!

(#46 chosen by random.org)

Congrats on your $35 gift certificate to CSN Stores! (Though I hope you buy something more fun than a hamper.) Many thanks to CSN for sponsoring my first giveaway.

Happily Uninteresting

2010-12-07T17:04:00.000-05:00

I was told, on another blog (and on this one at one point), that I write a boring blog. I suppose it was meant to be an insult, but I didn't receive it that way. In part, I have to kind of agree: my blog is not all that interesting as of late. And believe it or not, I'm actually kind of happy about that.

A few months ago I was blogging daily, getting tons of hits, and receiving loads of comments. Ah, those were the days. Except for the fact that I was dealing with terrible heartache. While it was a temporary ego-boost to have more readers and to have new comments every time I logged into blogger, sadly that didn't make things in real life any less shitty. If I had to choose between having a lot of blog readers and not feeling shitty, guess which one I'd pick. The same applies to being subjected to horribly awkward first dates. Fun to blog about, not fun to endure. Plus you've already got Katie blowing that shit out of the water. .

Sitting in therapy today, I struggled to find anything over the last week that I felt was in need of serious conversation. Strangely, the same thing had happened at last week's session, too. At first I felt like this was because I hadn't been reflecting on my life enough (self-judgment), but then I saw that it has simply been a time of...normalcy. Took me awhile to recognize it. Sure, the remnants of homesickness are still there, as are the ever-passing thoughts of moving somewhere else, but I'm not longer feeling like I'm in some inescapable abyss that I'll never pull out of. And contrary to my own belief that I have to work really hard to get anywhere with anything, I didn't have to do shit to get out of it other than wait and accept that was where I was. It was in the not-doing that I was lifted out. Who knows if I'll find myself back there next week or next month, but for now, I'm out. That is something to give thanks for.

Maybe my life is boring. Or maybe it's actually just what life looks like when the storm has exhausted itself and the calm and stillness set in. After the ups and downs of the last few months, I'm grateful for this unfamiliar peace. I'm grateful that the excitement in my life is coming through attending a counter-protest in yesterday's freezing cold weather, getting interviewed by a news website, Christmas shopping for my Star Wars-obsessed nephew, celebrating my friend's retirement, and eating sweet potato latkes for the first time. Non-boy related things, things I typically don't talk about in my blog. Things I keep within my own heart and my community in real life.

Maybe it's boring to read about. But it's sweet to live it. And really, that's all that matters to me.

P.S. You still have time to enter my giveaway!