It was one year ago today that I said goodbye to that beloved employer. The day I mostly spent in a hot apartment, crazed and overwhelmed as two Russian immigrants begrudgingly packed my stuff into the back of Penske moving truck. No one could have prepared them for the stairs up and down to the Hobbit house. Three, or was it four, were there, to share a last lunch with me. Domino's pepperoni pizza, and a 20 oz. Coke. Standing in that small kitchen, sharing what would be the last of our daily ritual I had come to cherish so much. It was so hot on that day...Twenty degrees or more than it is as I write this. It was the day of the last happy hour at the place they knew my order upon arrival. The last time I would be surrounded by the colleagues I had come to call my friends and the wives who joined them. The night where the tears would follow and minutes would pass too soon. That farewell hug from English Andy, the smile and laughter of Steve-O's wife, the Chocolate Martini that Michelle always ordered. Saying goodbye to J.P., and even the Beej. It was there in that place, that I stood in the presence of so many people who a year later I can only help but wonder if they still think of me. I spoke with the husband-formerly-known-as-mine that evening. Telling him that in the morning I would be leaving, that it was finally time for me to follow my dreams. The conversation, just as the thousands before, went from pleasant to accusatory before all was said and done. Unable to be spoiled, it was a night that would go down in true N.A.T. fashion. An impromptu party on Amer's deck, in the house I shared in the first few month's of my fleeing. Nan. J.D., the boss who became my friend, K.L. who brought us 46 Taco's. We partied hard, and we partied well into the night. I still remember, even in my intoxicated haze, the way the sky looked and the way Lexington held on to me one last time.
I arrived in Northern Virginia on May 24, 2007 and in the year that has now come to pass I have had a million moments that look suspiciously like an ordinary life...however, this year has been anything but ordinary.
I learned how to be nothing but who I am, and to be it well. I grew more than I can ever try to convince you to believe. I cried, a lot. I fulfilled a dream. I did it, mostly, by myself. I started to heal, and finally to let it go. I had hard conversations, confronted the past, and took steps to forgive, to be forgiven, and to move forward - a direction that I now realize is so much better suited for me. I felt the wind around me, the sunshine on my face, the smell of the earth, and the wetness that is the rain. I felt alive again. I drank a million bottles of Shiraz, smoked seven million cigarettes, and tried to piece it all together. I took a lot of baths, on Sunday's, in a tub filled with lavender. I read. I watched movies. I longed to go home. Longed for friendly faces, for laughter, for understanding. I lost tens of thousands of dollars by four freaking weeks. I visited a best friend in the hospital when she had her daughter, and celebrated her son's birthday. I got to know my cousins who I now call my friends. I walked around the same block twice a day for 364 days. I made a friend. I received flowers, in abundance, for my birthday. I met a Frenchman who became my best friend. I joined the dub dub, again. I enjoyed being 45-minutes from Perfectville. I got swept off my feet. Fell madly in love. Rode a bike. 17. Freaking. Miles. I ate well. I made more money than I ever thought I would. Visited 100+ townhouses, made 4 offers, and continue to wait for one of them to be mine. I shopped at Trader Joe's, and bought great cheeses, $3 wine, and found the world's most perfect yogurt. I enjoyed the company of my parents, in my hometown, on multiple occasions. I took a road trip to Columbus, and fell in love with him even more. I smiled. I smiled. I smiled. I talked politics and became a champion of Obama, trying to convince anyone who will give me a chance to feel the same. I walked the Mall on a crisp night in November. I reconnected with college friends. I dreamt of worldly travels. I went to LexVegas, three times. Went to Keeneland, and laughed with my twin souls. I went to the Zoo and was told of TL's arrival. I went to Cancun and talked about CC's arrival. I went to work on the anniversary of my grandmother's death and learned Elizabeth had given me a new reason to smile on an otherwise hard day. I rejoiced for their births, and for the women my best friends had become. I became an aunt. I witnessed true selflessness. I cried. I cried. I cried. I had weird and haunting dreams. I reconnected with friends long since lost, via Facebook, and felt life coming full circle. I learned to stop listening to the fear, and to start listening to the the Peace. I witnessed the miracle that is the NKOTB reunion. I counted my blessings. I said an abundance of prayers. I quit smoking, mostly. I got promoted. I was given a second chance at a happy life. I learned who the other woman was. In a roundabout kinda sorta way became the other woman. I witnessed the celebration of two women who committed to each other to live a happy life, to be each other's partner, in good times and in bad. I let memories live in the past, instead of ruling the present. I said I was sorry. I witnessed my sister fulfil her destiny. I didn't go to Europe. I accepted reality. I let myself be happy. I heard the sound of my nephew's cries, I saw his face, I became perpetually starved for more. I believed, again, in true miracles. I started living a life better than I ever thought possible, one with a fantastic man standing with me, arm around me tight to share our journey towards the unknown. I began to live a life fully of laughter, with a bounty of hope, with dreams that are reality, and one most definitely destined for a fairytale ending.
I don't regret any of it.
This year has been anything but ordinary. It's been a year where everything was renewed. Where the fantastic did happen. A date on a calendar that is now an anniversary I will always cherish, that I will forever celebrate. The year where I lived. The year that I laughed.
The year that above all, I finally learned to love myself.
5.16.2008
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
Did you see them? Well I sure hope you were tuning into the Today Show this morning because if you were relying on me for photographic evidence this probably would not clue you into the fact that my beloved NKOTB are in fact, now middle aged dancing superstars. I swear to you, this is one of the happiest moments in my young 31 years. It all came back! Jon still looks painfully uncomfortable, and Joe/Donnie/Jordan are now even more heavily competeing for the sole spotlight. And then there's sweet Danny. Yeah. Anyway, every die hard fan feels the same sublime wanderlust as they did 17 years ago when they first stole our hearts. OOOH how I can't wait for September 26.
Pay no attention to the double chin.
5.13.2008
Ya, That's Right, I'm Not Always A Nice Girl
On my way to the ladies room this afternoon I was once again caught off guard by another person of the female variety in front of me. Now, being that A) this happens a lot and B) that there is no special context here, this shouldn't have come as an alarming event. But what I saw in front of me has inspired me to start a new series on the dusty ol' blog of mine. That and I've seen a more comprehensive collection here recently. This might just solve my inability to blog when the inspiration is in front of me. So, because of today's event, I will now now actually use that handy little label feature and I will lovingly call these tidbits: Stuff That Really Annoys Me. And I vow to try to get photographic evidence when possible.
Stuff That Really Annoys Me: #1 - Khaki Pants and Visible Panty Lines
All I ask is dear Lord, why?
First issue: Khaki pants that are too tight on your butt isn't my problem, however, you have invited me in and made it my problem because you are showing me your unsolicited under garments. I did not ask for this. I did not want to know. I'm sorry that you have not understood that pleats aren't for anyone over a size 0. I'm sorry that the pockets fell off the back and therefore it make your butt look bigger, more heartshaped, than it probably is in real life. Please. For the love of humanity. If you must wear them, wear the full butt panty to avoid the bikini brief-I-see-the-lines-situation. Wear a thong and we eliminate the panty line issue all together. It's one issue we can resolve.
Second issue: You are beyond say, size 6* and you still wear them. I sincerely encourage you to learn directly from a from a former khaki wearer who has seen the error of her ways. These things were simply not made for you and me. I know, I know, a denim jacket and black tee are simply divine paired with a nice stone-khaki hue. Sometimes I am still lured by their charm, trying them on as if I might not be defeated this time. But alas...I do not wear them because I take pity on humanity, I take pity on the woman walking behind me on the way to the ladies room so that I can avoid her look of utter disbelief and disgust. And let's just face it, I do it because my ass, just as your ass, is never going to look good in them. EVER.
*This issue does not apply for women who have no ass (NB-C) because the material cannot cling to the bumps, valleys, or as I so lovingly refer to mine - the divots.
Stuff That Really Annoys Me: #1 - Khaki Pants and Visible Panty Lines
All I ask is dear Lord, why?
First issue: Khaki pants that are too tight on your butt isn't my problem, however, you have invited me in and made it my problem because you are showing me your unsolicited under garments. I did not ask for this. I did not want to know. I'm sorry that you have not understood that pleats aren't for anyone over a size 0. I'm sorry that the pockets fell off the back and therefore it make your butt look bigger, more heartshaped, than it probably is in real life. Please. For the love of humanity. If you must wear them, wear the full butt panty to avoid the bikini brief-I-see-the-lines-situation. Wear a thong and we eliminate the panty line issue all together. It's one issue we can resolve.
Second issue: You are beyond say, size 6* and you still wear them. I sincerely encourage you to learn directly from a from a former khaki wearer who has seen the error of her ways. These things were simply not made for you and me. I know, I know, a denim jacket and black tee are simply divine paired with a nice stone-khaki hue. Sometimes I am still lured by their charm, trying them on as if I might not be defeated this time. But alas...I do not wear them because I take pity on humanity, I take pity on the woman walking behind me on the way to the ladies room so that I can avoid her look of utter disbelief and disgust. And let's just face it, I do it because my ass, just as your ass, is never going to look good in them. EVER.
*This issue does not apply for women who have no ass (NB-C) because the material cannot cling to the bumps, valleys, or as I so lovingly refer to mine - the divots.
5.09.2008
Just In Case You Were Wondering
The answer would be "no," when you ask me if I had yet heard back on either of the two offers I have out on a townhouse. Let me restate for you that it's been approximately FIVE weeks on the first, FOUR almost FIVE on the second. Again, I say...foreclosure homebuying is for the birds.
FBF and I went on a hellacious yet oddly gratifying 17-mile bike ride on Sunday. That is perhaps the last time I don't clarify where and for how long we're going again. Monsieur JF sure has a persuasive nature about him with the gentle reassurances and positive reinforcements. Quite the sly guy he is, you find yourself eight miles from home, with only a prayer and two wheels to get you back to where you came from. It's a good thing I didn't die. Clearly he hasn't quite realized I'm not that into physical activity.
The mama and the papa are coming to the big town this weekend. Well, it's because fantastically fabulous cousin is graduating from William & Mary on Sunday, so we're heading down the devil's highway (aka I-95) to Williamsburg. The mama and the papa are also staying in my 700-sq feet of high rise living on Saturday night. Abby will be delighted and not sure who she should sleep with so that maximum doting and belly rubbing can ensue. I'm not sure 700-sq feet sleeps 3+ dog very comfortably, so that should be interesting. You know, IF I HAD A FREAKING HOUSE OF MY OWN THIS WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM.
Oh, and I finally got my hair cut last night. It's a weeeeeee bit shorter than I would have liked, seeing as I've spent the last nine months without cutting it, but I am digging it. Went significantly lighter this time because I will not rest until I can finally lay rest to the age old claim that blondes really do have more fun.
Did I mention Slimy, her BFF Erika, and I are going backstage to meet New Kids On The Freaking Block on September 26 in Boston???!!!! Let's just say, we're 31 and we still needed her dad's credit card to make it possible...and it was as frustrating as it was when we were 13 to get the tickets. We've got some bitchin' seats in Chicago too that we could probably sell ya for a cool $400 a pop. Ah, it's good to be a groupie with buying power.
Just two weeks until heading back to Gulfport to visit Vee. NB-C and I are making a quick trip to the hottest place on earth and to see the little one and I finally! get! to! meet! little! TL!!!!
NB-C's latest obsession, Bret Michaels, of Poison fame (evvvverryyyy roooossse has its thhhoorrnnnn) just happens to be playing in Biloxi that same weekend. I wonder if NB-C will show her t*ts? Little CC will be so proud. (Now isn't that great, she named her daughter after CC Deville!)
That was probably a little over the top.
Cheers!
FBF and I went on a hellacious yet oddly gratifying 17-mile bike ride on Sunday. That is perhaps the last time I don't clarify where and for how long we're going again. Monsieur JF sure has a persuasive nature about him with the gentle reassurances and positive reinforcements. Quite the sly guy he is, you find yourself eight miles from home, with only a prayer and two wheels to get you back to where you came from. It's a good thing I didn't die. Clearly he hasn't quite realized I'm not that into physical activity.
The mama and the papa are coming to the big town this weekend. Well, it's because fantastically fabulous cousin is graduating from William & Mary on Sunday, so we're heading down the devil's highway (aka I-95) to Williamsburg. The mama and the papa are also staying in my 700-sq feet of high rise living on Saturday night. Abby will be delighted and not sure who she should sleep with so that maximum doting and belly rubbing can ensue. I'm not sure 700-sq feet sleeps 3+ dog very comfortably, so that should be interesting. You know, IF I HAD A FREAKING HOUSE OF MY OWN THIS WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM.
Oh, and I finally got my hair cut last night. It's a weeeeeee bit shorter than I would have liked, seeing as I've spent the last nine months without cutting it, but I am digging it. Went significantly lighter this time because I will not rest until I can finally lay rest to the age old claim that blondes really do have more fun.
Did I mention Slimy, her BFF Erika, and I are going backstage to meet New Kids On The Freaking Block on September 26 in Boston???!!!! Let's just say, we're 31 and we still needed her dad's credit card to make it possible...and it was as frustrating as it was when we were 13 to get the tickets. We've got some bitchin' seats in Chicago too that we could probably sell ya for a cool $400 a pop. Ah, it's good to be a groupie with buying power.
Just two weeks until heading back to Gulfport to visit Vee. NB-C and I are making a quick trip to the hottest place on earth and to see the little one and I finally! get! to! meet! little! TL!!!!
NB-C's latest obsession, Bret Michaels, of Poison fame (evvvverryyyy roooossse has its thhhoorrnnnn) just happens to be playing in Biloxi that same weekend. I wonder if NB-C will show her t*ts? Little CC will be so proud. (Now isn't that great, she named her daughter after CC Deville!)
That was probably a little over the top.
Cheers!
5.05.2008
Today Is The Day That Will Forever Remind Me to Make Good Choices
Take it from me, kids. Good decision making and critical judgement skills are two of the most important things your parents ever teach you. My advice is to think long and hard before you marry someone who seven years later you look back and can say nothing more than "what the fuck was I thinking?" Be sure to arduously weigh the pros and cons, and if there is even one con that exceeds the list of pros, run for your life. Save yourself. Though you may not be able to see it now, those parents of yours sure are right when they tell you not to ever settle for less than what you want, deserve, hope, or dream of. From someone who knows, life is too short to get married just so you can eat the cake.
4.29.2008
The Battle of Tippecanoe
You remember a few posts back I was all gushy about how much I loved this area, and how I put an offer on a townhouse, blah blah blah? Yeah. Well the short and skinny of it is, I am still a pending homeless person. My lease is up in 25 days and while I can go month to month, I really would like to know if I'll be living in a deluxe apartment in the sky, or a tri-level townhouse 10 miles further West of here. Dealing with short sales, 3rd party approvals, and weeks upon weeks without word whether or not your offer to buy a home will be accepted is nothing less than agonizing. I am the kind of person who wants to be rewarded immediately for making large decisions, purchases, or life altering events. I want nothing more to be self gratified, and to immediately reap the benefit of said event. You know, like buying a car, and taking it home. Buying a lot of clothes, and taking them home. Buying a home and well, calling it MY freaking home. It should be easy. But easy is the furthest thing from what this crappy home buying process has been.
I wish I would have counted the exact number of houses I have looked at. My guess is that we're close to 100 now. My realtor must think I'm a total spaz. Thank God he's wonderful, because if he were like most any other man (not like you honey), my non-decisive nature would have scared him a long time ago. Well that, and he's getting paid, and his wife is a friend of mine from college and I'm quite sure she'd beat him into submission if he weren't. You know, just sayin'.
Anyway, I currently have two offers out on two different houses. You're not really supposed to do that but you know what? I'm pretty sure it should be illegal to ask people to make an offer on a house and then being the nice bank that you are sit on those offers for multiple weeks, just cause, you know, you can. I am pretty sure that by waiting and waiting it out, your hair falls out en masse and you find yourself in former homelands and cities that are now-not-too-far, drinking excessive amounts of foreign and domestic beers just to dull the voice in your head that incessantly screams, "where is the self-gratification that I so desperately need?" FFS. Why won't that bank respond and tell me that the home I've been looking for so diligently is now mine?
This is nothing less than a battle. A battle of wits. A battle of wills. A true testament to one's character.
You lucky bastards who haven't had to deal with the short sale and foreclosure process have no idea just how lucky you are. And those of you out there who think I'm getting a freaking amazing deal just because I'm trying to purchase a short sale/foreclosure...let me tell ya. When you're paying an arm, a leg, and a future unborn child just to live in a townhouse that costs more than most 5-bedroom homes in your former city, one in which has emerald green carpet throughout THE ENTIRE HOUSE (that you will have to fork over another 10K to replace just so you can paint the walls to not clash with said carpet), and a kitchen your inner Julia Child says "ewwwwhhhhh" too, it's not such an amazing deal. It's called less than perfect and totally obscene.
Ahhhh, the joys of home ownership. Home sweet home.
Damn it!
It's about time that I be able to say that!
I wish I would have counted the exact number of houses I have looked at. My guess is that we're close to 100 now. My realtor must think I'm a total spaz. Thank God he's wonderful, because if he were like most any other man (not like you honey), my non-decisive nature would have scared him a long time ago. Well that, and he's getting paid, and his wife is a friend of mine from college and I'm quite sure she'd beat him into submission if he weren't. You know, just sayin'.
Anyway, I currently have two offers out on two different houses. You're not really supposed to do that but you know what? I'm pretty sure it should be illegal to ask people to make an offer on a house and then being the nice bank that you are sit on those offers for multiple weeks, just cause, you know, you can. I am pretty sure that by waiting and waiting it out, your hair falls out en masse and you find yourself in former homelands and cities that are now-not-too-far, drinking excessive amounts of foreign and domestic beers just to dull the voice in your head that incessantly screams, "where is the self-gratification that I so desperately need?" FFS. Why won't that bank respond and tell me that the home I've been looking for so diligently is now mine?
This is nothing less than a battle. A battle of wits. A battle of wills. A true testament to one's character.
You lucky bastards who haven't had to deal with the short sale and foreclosure process have no idea just how lucky you are. And those of you out there who think I'm getting a freaking amazing deal just because I'm trying to purchase a short sale/foreclosure...let me tell ya. When you're paying an arm, a leg, and a future unborn child just to live in a townhouse that costs more than most 5-bedroom homes in your former city, one in which has emerald green carpet throughout THE ENTIRE HOUSE (that you will have to fork over another 10K to replace just so you can paint the walls to not clash with said carpet), and a kitchen your inner Julia Child says "ewwwwhhhhh" too, it's not such an amazing deal. It's called less than perfect and totally obscene.
Ahhhh, the joys of home ownership. Home sweet home.
Damn it!
It's about time that I be able to say that!
4.28.2008
4.23.2008
Life Is Good & My Writing Today, Yeah. Not so much.
I love this picture (thanks Crackberry phone) of little miss CC, taken this weekend while in LexVegas. How happy is she? Seriously, arms up, yayayyay! Smile away, yayayyayay! Tounge out, yayayyayayay! Love her, love her, love her.
Had a blast in ye old hometown. I don't really know what to say about it, other than it was a great time. The sunshine, the rain, the old friends, the new addition, it all added up to perfect harmony. We drank and ate, a lot. I'm serious when I say that it's quite possible I had 25 beers in 2 days. Pints of draft beer, not bottles. NB-C and I were basically like a British/Irish pub crawling/Horsetrack junkie duo for like, 48 hours. Good beer, bad beer, the whole weekend was fantastic. I got my three weeks of missing potatoes and fried food goodness in, also. Oh my, how I love a good waffle fry from Shamrock's. They always ever so tasty. Got to see my wonder twins Nan & H.O., which was awesome. I love these girls like old friends, even though they are relatively new friends. They are just like a second self. Saw a couple friends from college who I hadn't laid eyes on for what seems like years, and it was so nice to reconnect. Gotta say, it was good to be home.
Had a blast in ye old hometown. I don't really know what to say about it, other than it was a great time. The sunshine, the rain, the old friends, the new addition, it all added up to perfect harmony. We drank and ate, a lot. I'm serious when I say that it's quite possible I had 25 beers in 2 days. Pints of draft beer, not bottles. NB-C and I were basically like a British/Irish pub crawling/Horsetrack junkie duo for like, 48 hours. Good beer, bad beer, the whole weekend was fantastic. I got my three weeks of missing potatoes and fried food goodness in, also. Oh my, how I love a good waffle fry from Shamrock's. They always ever so tasty. Got to see my wonder twins Nan & H.O., which was awesome. I love these girls like old friends, even though they are relatively new friends. They are just like a second self. Saw a couple friends from college who I hadn't laid eyes on for what seems like years, and it was so nice to reconnect. Gotta say, it was good to be home.
The weekend was so fantastic, in fact, I weighed a dreaded 6 pounds more on Monday morning than I did when I left on Friday. Woops. I chose the "get out of jail free card" this week at the DubDub. Back on track, and I've lost 4 pounds of that since. Thank God.
Anywho, I'm really not into writing today, this is an admitadly bad post. I'm so bored of it that I'm not even going to re-read, edit, or obsess before hitting the "publish post" button. Amuse yourself with my pictures.
College friends! Me, LC, MB, NB-C
Two of my favorite BITCHEZ Nan & H.O.
Life is Good.
Yay! I love Keeneland, too! Where people watching should be a sport of its own.
In 14 years, this was the first time I ever saw a race from this close! Look! Real horses! You know! Racing!
Six words: "I need to go inside, now."4.18.2008
Going Home
Heading to LexVegas in a few. Can't wait...
Still waiting on the bank to respond to at least 1 of the 2 offers I have out right now. Foreclosure home buying isn't exactly what I call "fun."
Down 7lbs thanks to the WW. I'm pretty sure I'll recapture half of that this weekend. Rode my new! green! bike! two times this week, thanks to the reassuring peer-pressure of the FBF. I hope smoking cigarettes and over indulgent drinking doesn't derail this train completely...
Anywho, back with evidence of the fun I'm sure to have on Monday.
Cheers!
Still waiting on the bank to respond to at least 1 of the 2 offers I have out right now. Foreclosure home buying isn't exactly what I call "fun."
Down 7lbs thanks to the WW. I'm pretty sure I'll recapture half of that this weekend. Rode my new! green! bike! two times this week, thanks to the reassuring peer-pressure of the FBF. I hope smoking cigarettes and over indulgent drinking doesn't derail this train completely...
Anywho, back with evidence of the fun I'm sure to have on Monday.
Cheers!
4.14.2008
Onto The Living Part
When I moved last May, I wasn't sure what would happen once I got here. You know, would I like being a NOVA transplant? Would I adapt/fit-in/like living in this area? Would I make friends, and would I have a vested interest in staying? Eleven months later (has it been that long already???) I am able to answer that question with a resounding answer: Yes.
For as hard as it was to leave LexVegas, for as long as the days went on without my friends, for as long as the miles seemed to keep us apart, I am still glad that I moved. I am thankful everyday to know how far those miles have really taken me. I am happy here. I am the me I was screaming to become. It's a beautiful and bittersweet parodox, of losing so much in order to gain so much more.
I miss my friends every day. I miss being able to call NB-C to go to the tanning bed, to have my best friend in the same city. I miss the ease and familiarity that city had afforded me. The traditions in April and October, the "First Down Kentucky!!!" blaring from Commonwealth on game day. I miss my work people, who became so much more than just that. The smell of the Jif plant roasting peanuts, or the grandeur of the horse farms right within my distance. I miss the small town feel, the Nicholasville Road traffic, and the shortcuts through neighborhoods I had become so familiar with. I miss laughing with people who knew me for me, who cared about me, who were always kind, and who loved me. I miss the ease of I-75, that straight shot that led me to my hometown. I hate knowing that 3-hours is so much less time to spend than the 7-hours it now takes to get there. That what is there now is a little man who I fear will never know his aunt the way I'd like him to, who captured my heart more than I knew was possible, and who won't know how hard it is to not be with him as he grows up.
Yet what I've found here, allows me to take comfort in knowing that it's all still there, and that it's mine for the taking anytime I want to return.
I am happy here, because when I look out the window I see a future instead of a shackle. I can't describe what it is that makes me love being here. What gives me this vesting, what envokes me to stay. I just know that I love it here, in a very different way than I love LexVegas. I love it for what it meant to me to get here, for what it's afforded me in my career, and for the people I've come to meet along the way. I love that the open air and the blue sky often give me a glimpse of being home, like the day sneaks up on you and wraps its arms around your soul. I love it because it led me to him, and to the happiness I had almost convinced myself would never happen. A comfort in having a best friend so close, her children to love, family members even closer, and for the first time having all so close at the same time. I love it because what it means to me is that I began living my life, for me, because of me, and in spite of me. For learning who "me" is. And for growing up. As for what's left, I can't even begin to express how much I love having so much to do, all. the. time.
I left Lexington because I knew I had to let go in order for the fantastic happen. And I'm pretty sure it has happened to me. I feel this ease and this burst of satisfaction and I know that I have much to look forward to, in a place I look forward to being. It just feels nice. To really be happy. To leave all the strife behind, to deal with new challenges, new drama, new possibilities, and for good or bad, to do so by myself and without any pre-concieved notions of who I should become.
I wish I could say the irony would not befall me this time, but the vortex is whirling again. Thrusting me into a collision of both worlds this week...
I will go home to Lexington on Friday. Back to the arms of the friends I miss so deeply, surrounded by the sublime presence I so long to feel. And today, I took the first step in securing my place, here. I made an offer on a townhouse. A place to call home, a home to grow into, something that is totally my own.
Home.
A place, that took me a very long time to find.
4.07.2008
4.03.2008
It's The Final Countdown
So, yeah. I find my spare time more than filled with the high propensity to stalk a certain 80's boy band. Oh, Nelly. It's gonna be bad.
In other news, the FBF (herein fondly known as the French Boy Friend because he needs a good name) and I are heading to the hometown tomorrow to see My Favorite NEPHEW! I don't know what to be more excited about...seeing said NEPHEW! or anticipating how my entire family will be with the FBF. I like to think of my family as the Franklin County Mafia when it comes to meeting new love interests. They are loud, opinionated, and really like giving the new comers a run for their money. FBF has no idea what he's in for. My poor little introvert. This will challenge you. Hehehehehehe. But I suspect, you will love them as I do. Because they are the reason I am me.
WW day 4 is going well. I forget how much I actually like being on this diet. I've become substanially more hydrated and fantastically more regular in such a short time. It's wonderful. TMI. Oh well!
Okay, should go to bed so when I awake, it will be time to see my beloved NKOTB on the Today Show. I probably won't be able to sleep tonight.
You know, like Christmas. Just giddy with the anticipation.
In other news, the FBF (herein fondly known as the French Boy Friend because he needs a good name) and I are heading to the hometown tomorrow to see My Favorite NEPHEW! I don't know what to be more excited about...seeing said NEPHEW! or anticipating how my entire family will be with the FBF. I like to think of my family as the Franklin County Mafia when it comes to meeting new love interests. They are loud, opinionated, and really like giving the new comers a run for their money. FBF has no idea what he's in for. My poor little introvert. This will challenge you. Hehehehehehe. But I suspect, you will love them as I do. Because they are the reason I am me.
WW day 4 is going well. I forget how much I actually like being on this diet. I've become substanially more hydrated and fantastically more regular in such a short time. It's wonderful. TMI. Oh well!
Okay, should go to bed so when I awake, it will be time to see my beloved NKOTB on the Today Show. I probably won't be able to sleep tonight.
You know, like Christmas. Just giddy with the anticipation.
4.02.2008
Impending NKOTB Reunion: 3 Days Down, 1 To Go
Sweet baby Jesus, thank you for this miracle.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, dressed in your finest polka dotted shirt, black pattened leather-lace-up shoes, and rat tail, for this beautiful photograph of the SOON TO BE REUNITED New Kids On The Block, looking ever so flipping hot in 2008.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, for giving an otherwise dreadfully long week something to look forward to on what would surely be an otherwise dull and boring Friday morning.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, for bringing my nephew into the world, so that I could unknowingly have to choosen my first 7-hour trip home to see him, over the impending reunion of said favorite-life-long band in a city that is only 3-hours away.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, that Joe is still effing hot. For Jon, surprisingly looking exactly the same, yet somehow, hotter. For Donnie, gracefully less rebelious and able to carry himself quite well in a perfectly tailored suit. For Jordan, looking, well, not a thing like the Jordan I remember? And for Danny. Sweet little forgotten about Danny.
Sweet baby Jesus, thank you for answering the one prayer I thought might never get answered. For giving me a reason to stalk and obsess again. For allowing me to analyze how queerly Jon is standing (does he ever stand up straight?). For shedding a new perspective on the face that belongs to Donnie, cause DAAAYYYUUUMMM, he's looking HOT.
Just sayin.
4.01.2008
In My Next Life...
...All I want is a healthy metabolism, thin genetics, and a willpower substantially stronger than the one I currently possess.
Went to the dubdub last night. Ah, the familiarity. This one is nicer than my former WW center in LexVegas. You just step on the scale right at the registration desk. Makes sense. It's nicely painted too. More of a taupe instead of Pepto pink like the former. More bright and airy, too. Substantially more annoying meeting leader is the weak spot. But maybe it's nice overall mojo will help me shed another 30 pesky pounds. I did keep thinking to myself, although I've joined, re-joined, re-re-joined (you get the idea), I have kept 35 pounds off since 2003 (or was it 2002?). That's kinda a long time, so maybe there is something that really works. I also forgot how much the first week sucks. Not cause it's that different than what I usually eat, just cause it's because now someone says I shouldn't.
Two weeks in and I'll feel noticeably different - I just have to remind myself of that certainty. That and how damn good I'm going to look in that dress that's been hanging in my closet since this time last year.
But right now, all I want is a damn cupcake.
Went to the dubdub last night. Ah, the familiarity. This one is nicer than my former WW center in LexVegas. You just step on the scale right at the registration desk. Makes sense. It's nicely painted too. More of a taupe instead of Pepto pink like the former. More bright and airy, too. Substantially more annoying meeting leader is the weak spot. But maybe it's nice overall mojo will help me shed another 30 pesky pounds. I did keep thinking to myself, although I've joined, re-joined, re-re-joined (you get the idea), I have kept 35 pounds off since 2003 (or was it 2002?). That's kinda a long time, so maybe there is something that really works. I also forgot how much the first week sucks. Not cause it's that different than what I usually eat, just cause it's because now someone says I shouldn't.
Two weeks in and I'll feel noticeably different - I just have to remind myself of that certainty. That and how damn good I'm going to look in that dress that's been hanging in my closet since this time last year.
But right now, all I want is a damn cupcake.
3.31.2008
Breaking News! Hell Reportedly A Chilly 31 Degrees
Well, either hell has officially frozen over, or, New Kids fans, it IS a brand new day afterall...
Sweet Baby Jesus. They are reuniting.
This is perhaps, one of, if not the happiest days in my life in the past 14-sad years since they went away. Perhaps the most monumental in the 20-years since they first came into my life. My beloved, New Kids On The Block are coming back twenty (is it possible?) years after releasing Hangin' Tough.
I feel like my bangs just grew 6 inches (thanks to Rave Super Hold hairspray), my spiral perm came back, and I can almost feel the metal reforming in my mouth.
People.com broke the story that NKOTB will be making their historical return this Friday morning on the Today show. And an email from their website soon followed to confirmed that this was, indeed, the case and not a cruel joke. Did you hear me, THIS FRIDAY MORNING.
I. Am. So. Happy.
I knew I shouldn't have thrown away all that precious memorabilia! I knew those dusty t-shirts, buttons, posters, and dolls would be worth something someday. Thank God I still have my Lynn Goldsmith book (proudly displayed atop my armoire with other picture books). I wonder if it's acceptable to wallpaper your office in photos from Teen Beat? I swear. This is like Christmas in April. Maybe even better.
And just like that...all the memories come rushing back. Taking me back to a time and place so familiar and foreign. So impossibly long ago, yet seemingly only yesterday. True New Kids fans know this feeling. That unmistakable feeling you were left with. That pull on your heart. That unyeilding love for five Beantown boys who were a band, yes, but to us...to us...they were so much more.
Trust me. They remember.
Twenty years later and I can almost feel the eruption of 50,000 screaming thirty-something women. Our voices louder, deeper, and less schrill - only with the same anticipation and the same longing. Ohhhh, how it will feel so good to remember what it used to feel like...to live in that distant memory again, if only for another brief moment in time. Together, we will stand and dwell in the sanctity of our youth...once again present in the population of those who understand the obsessive behavior that perpetuated our reason for being. We will dwell in our innocence, of our place in the sun, long before life jaded us. A time before we were girlfriends, wives, mothers, and bitter ex-wives. We can unite again, stand tall against those who scoff, and endlessly obsess over the member we love the most (Joey).
Sign me up, cause I can't wait to be a part of it all over again.
3.27.2008
Rattle Rattle
So, yeah. I'm obsessed with the utter goodness that is "Pei Wei." For anyone sadly not familiar with this beautiful creation, it's the scaled down, sortoflike fast-food version of PF Chang's. Now we're talking $7 meal, more than suitable Friday carryout, and practically SAME EXACT recipes. I discovered it a few weeks ago after another trek on the unfulfilling mission that is my quest to find a townhouse. Realtor-friend highly recommended it and has proven to be just another downfall in the test of my will. I've eaten there twice, and tonight it shall be thrice, as I'm choraling the BF into going with me. I've thought about it at least every day, sometimes at length since, since my first encounter with it. The BF will undoubtadly not find the Kung Pao chicken as sublime as I, nor perhaps the Mongolian Beef (made spicy), or even the delicously cool lettuce wraps, spring rolls, or savory crab rangoon. But I will try to tempt his taste buds and do my best to lure another fan. I'm salivating at the thought. Oh how I can't wait for that first bite!
This is also why I'm going back to the dubdub on Monday. Because my ass is fat, and my motivation plummeting. I wish they had a t-shirt that says "WW Dropout." I could wear it proudly upon my annual, semi-annual, or bi-annual return. I've been good the last two weeks, at least Monday - Friday, and I like to think that I'm easing myself back into the counting of the points, the loathing of the tasteless Skinny Cow, and the obsession that ensues.
Swear to God. Tell me how it's possible to cure erectile dysfunction but not cure this?
This is also why I'm going back to the dubdub on Monday. Because my ass is fat, and my motivation plummeting. I wish they had a t-shirt that says "WW Dropout." I could wear it proudly upon my annual, semi-annual, or bi-annual return. I've been good the last two weeks, at least Monday - Friday, and I like to think that I'm easing myself back into the counting of the points, the loathing of the tasteless Skinny Cow, and the obsession that ensues.
Swear to God. Tell me how it's possible to cure erectile dysfunction but not cure this?
3.25.2008
3.21.2008
on where i've been
It's hard to believe that it was almost exactly one year ago that I started the conversation with my now employer about moving 500 miles to begin anew. It's hard to assess just where I've been. It's been one year, a million miles, almost as many glasses of wine or beer consumed, and a thousand moments too spectacular or too sad to even begin to share. One year, that started with one conversation that changed it all.
And changed, it did.
I sometimes think about all the change that has happened, since that first conversation. In the months that followed, and in the months that have only recently passed. I look back and I am thankful for all I have learned. For the people I have met. For the sound of laughter, and the wet of my tears. I smile at my ability to cope, and to heal, and at just how wonderful it feels to acknowledge the pain I harbored for such a long time. I like to breathe in the release of lost emotions. I relish my new-found ability to confront instead of run. I talk instead of holding it in. There's a profound change that has come because of that with many relationships in my life. It's nice. It's begun a path to healing, and of forgiveness, and of a hope for a different future.
Yet, some journeys still haven't had their resolution. I still drink too much. Although now, it is predominantly in the company of others, instead of the company of my lone and furry companion. I am saying to you now the words I only formerly implied. I drank a lot, by myself, for too long. I know that I did that because I was incapacitated by the ability to feel anything but sad, lonely, and hurt. I recognize only in the last year, just how profoundly my divorce, my ex-husband, changed my being. I recognize that the consequences of that relationship have had lingering effects I chose not to deal with until moving 500 miles away, and to a place where I was empowered to become the woman I had known I could become. But now that I've reached the calm - now that I've reached the place I used to only gaze at with blurred vision - I know that the full resolution is not met, but also not far away. I am still hoping, trying, wanting, to put Natasha away for good.
Where have I been?
I've been trying to buy a townhouse. Talk about absolute insanity. I swear, when this process began at the end of January, I thought, no problemo. I thought, I'd find something very quickly and rush into it without proper assessment, without proper foresight. Yeah. Was. I. Wrong. It's now approaching the end of March. I've been in close to 50 townhouses in the Northern Virginia area, and I've not found anything suitable for myself and My Girl to call home for the next few years. This is definitely not the same tits-in-the-wind Nat we all once knew. No, apparently, this one is hyper-conscious and has this weird aversion to making a decision. Ok, so the last point is not so far from believable, but yeah. I'm now obsessed with square footage, location, garage vs. no garage, and neighborhoods. I wait for the daily report of new listings with baited breath. Salivating over what will come up in my price range, only so I can go out and find the same floor plan, same everything, same lack of that je ne sais quois that I've been so persistent to find. It absolutely fucking sucks.
I've somehow convinced my company that I am awesome. Got big promotion the day I returned from Christmas holiday. Big. Promotion. Like, one my former company wouldn't have given me. And one, that in this area, puts me in a different league and secures a solid place for my career. Which is another reason that first conversation was so significant. That and that they fired and asked me to take the place of the man who I had that first conversation with. I'm sure of only one thing, and that is that my job has sucked the life out of me, and that there is no immediate end in sight. Some days are better than others, and some days I do nothing but question my competence and ability to do this job. That's really all I can say about that.
Let's see, what else. Oh yeah...
Fell in love? Check! With a wonderfully geeky and introverted Frenchman. As NB-C would say, I'm like the United Nations when it comes to my taste in men. What can I say? There's just something about them. And hey, at least I am being consistent. So back to the guy...First point to be made, he lives here. Not there. He makes me laugh, hard. Smile, a lot. Hurt, when I'm not around him. And shine when I am. He brings me flowers when the last bunch die, cooks me tasty treats on Sunday's, and runs with My Girl almost every time she asks. He tells me stories, in his soft and melodic voice, and dares to dream about the places he wants to go, the person he wants to become, and the man who he's always been. I love that he'd rather have a conversation, a spirited one at that, than be complacent. That he questions everything, and the motives of just about everyone. That he loves Star Wars and Juno and has read Tolkien, and a bunch of stuff that I've never even picked up. For his love of food and restaurants and exploration of them both. And that he loves his friends, and his family, and that despite that love, despite the countless times he finds himself missing them, wishing only to be in their healing presence, he still had the courage to move so far away, from a life that was so familiar.
He's not perfect, and he's totally complicated. He has horrible decorating taste, and he forgets to smile when he's in meetings he doesn't want to be in. He doesn't watch sports, and prefers computer games instead. And don't even get me started on the dragons. Sometimes, he forgets to listen when you are talking to him, or says "what?" for as many as five times after you've first made your statement. He's totally French, and well, you know how they can be. But I love him. I love that he thinks I'm beautiful, and I love that he is so patient, and so kind, and so tres French. I also love that he's reading this right now and smiling, and isn't scared of what I may or may not say. What is more, is that I love who I am when I am with him. He's become my best friend, and had been long before I gave into his many attempts to woo me and date me.
Et oui, monsieur JF, tu es mon meilleur ami.
I've also got a slew of new babies in my life. Some who I've held, and some who regrettably, I have not. Yet. Mr. TL, son of Vee, came into our lives, just waiting for his little voice to be heard on October 20. Miss Elizabeth, daughter to SEDW, was born a mere two weeks later, on November 8, on what was perhaps the most beautifully ironic day she could have ever chosen to come. And little Miss Camden, daughter of NB-C, our most recent addition, and the chick that has been rockin' LexVegas since February 1. All three of whom I can't wait to know and love for all the rest of my days.
My sister's baby, who was nothing much more than a few cells grown in a peitri-dish the last time we spoke, will be born any day. A baby boy, to be called Gavin Elijah, likely to be born this Easter weekend. Indeed, the last few months are sure cause for celebration, for thanks, and for remembering how lucky I am each time my family grows.
Where have I been? I've been on the greatest journey of my life, one that continues to amaze me and continues to take me further than a year ago I would have imagined.
One that's led me back here. And back I'm hoping to remain for a little bit longer. We'll see how the words flow this time, and if I can shake off the dust. For as much as I resented you before I left, I am more than happy to make your acquaintance upon my return. To co-exist in this blogosphere, with you. You, you faceless lurkers, and you, you, longtime friends.
And changed, it did.
I sometimes think about all the change that has happened, since that first conversation. In the months that followed, and in the months that have only recently passed. I look back and I am thankful for all I have learned. For the people I have met. For the sound of laughter, and the wet of my tears. I smile at my ability to cope, and to heal, and at just how wonderful it feels to acknowledge the pain I harbored for such a long time. I like to breathe in the release of lost emotions. I relish my new-found ability to confront instead of run. I talk instead of holding it in. There's a profound change that has come because of that with many relationships in my life. It's nice. It's begun a path to healing, and of forgiveness, and of a hope for a different future.
Yet, some journeys still haven't had their resolution. I still drink too much. Although now, it is predominantly in the company of others, instead of the company of my lone and furry companion. I am saying to you now the words I only formerly implied. I drank a lot, by myself, for too long. I know that I did that because I was incapacitated by the ability to feel anything but sad, lonely, and hurt. I recognize only in the last year, just how profoundly my divorce, my ex-husband, changed my being. I recognize that the consequences of that relationship have had lingering effects I chose not to deal with until moving 500 miles away, and to a place where I was empowered to become the woman I had known I could become. But now that I've reached the calm - now that I've reached the place I used to only gaze at with blurred vision - I know that the full resolution is not met, but also not far away. I am still hoping, trying, wanting, to put Natasha away for good.
Where have I been?
I've been trying to buy a townhouse. Talk about absolute insanity. I swear, when this process began at the end of January, I thought, no problemo. I thought, I'd find something very quickly and rush into it without proper assessment, without proper foresight. Yeah. Was. I. Wrong. It's now approaching the end of March. I've been in close to 50 townhouses in the Northern Virginia area, and I've not found anything suitable for myself and My Girl to call home for the next few years. This is definitely not the same tits-in-the-wind Nat we all once knew. No, apparently, this one is hyper-conscious and has this weird aversion to making a decision. Ok, so the last point is not so far from believable, but yeah. I'm now obsessed with square footage, location, garage vs. no garage, and neighborhoods. I wait for the daily report of new listings with baited breath. Salivating over what will come up in my price range, only so I can go out and find the same floor plan, same everything, same lack of that je ne sais quois that I've been so persistent to find. It absolutely fucking sucks.
I've somehow convinced my company that I am awesome. Got big promotion the day I returned from Christmas holiday. Big. Promotion. Like, one my former company wouldn't have given me. And one, that in this area, puts me in a different league and secures a solid place for my career. Which is another reason that first conversation was so significant. That and that they fired and asked me to take the place of the man who I had that first conversation with. I'm sure of only one thing, and that is that my job has sucked the life out of me, and that there is no immediate end in sight. Some days are better than others, and some days I do nothing but question my competence and ability to do this job. That's really all I can say about that.
Let's see, what else. Oh yeah...
Fell in love? Check! With a wonderfully geeky and introverted Frenchman. As NB-C would say, I'm like the United Nations when it comes to my taste in men. What can I say? There's just something about them. And hey, at least I am being consistent. So back to the guy...First point to be made, he lives here. Not there. He makes me laugh, hard. Smile, a lot. Hurt, when I'm not around him. And shine when I am. He brings me flowers when the last bunch die, cooks me tasty treats on Sunday's, and runs with My Girl almost every time she asks. He tells me stories, in his soft and melodic voice, and dares to dream about the places he wants to go, the person he wants to become, and the man who he's always been. I love that he'd rather have a conversation, a spirited one at that, than be complacent. That he questions everything, and the motives of just about everyone. That he loves Star Wars and Juno and has read Tolkien, and a bunch of stuff that I've never even picked up. For his love of food and restaurants and exploration of them both. And that he loves his friends, and his family, and that despite that love, despite the countless times he finds himself missing them, wishing only to be in their healing presence, he still had the courage to move so far away, from a life that was so familiar.
He's not perfect, and he's totally complicated. He has horrible decorating taste, and he forgets to smile when he's in meetings he doesn't want to be in. He doesn't watch sports, and prefers computer games instead. And don't even get me started on the dragons. Sometimes, he forgets to listen when you are talking to him, or says "what?" for as many as five times after you've first made your statement. He's totally French, and well, you know how they can be. But I love him. I love that he thinks I'm beautiful, and I love that he is so patient, and so kind, and so tres French. I also love that he's reading this right now and smiling, and isn't scared of what I may or may not say. What is more, is that I love who I am when I am with him. He's become my best friend, and had been long before I gave into his many attempts to woo me and date me.
Et oui, monsieur JF, tu es mon meilleur ami.
I've also got a slew of new babies in my life. Some who I've held, and some who regrettably, I have not. Yet. Mr. TL, son of Vee, came into our lives, just waiting for his little voice to be heard on October 20. Miss Elizabeth, daughter to SEDW, was born a mere two weeks later, on November 8, on what was perhaps the most beautifully ironic day she could have ever chosen to come. And little Miss Camden, daughter of NB-C, our most recent addition, and the chick that has been rockin' LexVegas since February 1. All three of whom I can't wait to know and love for all the rest of my days.
My sister's baby, who was nothing much more than a few cells grown in a peitri-dish the last time we spoke, will be born any day. A baby boy, to be called Gavin Elijah, likely to be born this Easter weekend. Indeed, the last few months are sure cause for celebration, for thanks, and for remembering how lucky I am each time my family grows.
Where have I been? I've been on the greatest journey of my life, one that continues to amaze me and continues to take me further than a year ago I would have imagined.
One that's led me back here. And back I'm hoping to remain for a little bit longer. We'll see how the words flow this time, and if I can shake off the dust. For as much as I resented you before I left, I am more than happy to make your acquaintance upon my return. To co-exist in this blogosphere, with you. You, you faceless lurkers, and you, you, longtime friends.
3.13.2008
in the arms of everything, and nothing
sometime ago, i vowed off this blog. swore her from my vocabulary. sure i was done recounting my sad stories and my hot air tales of a life i no longer felt a part of, of a tale too long ago, too far away from my own.
somehow, i find myself checking her pages, more than frequently. i catch myself drawn to the lure of her arms. to the surge of her ability, to the frequency of her nagging. where she pulls me back in and makes me want to stay...just...a...little...longer....
i am toying with her charm. her inviting subtlties. her charisma. her freedom. her sanctity. her peace...
she seems too real to let go. too much my own creation to say "see ya later." too much of a friend to endanger. too much of myself to forget.
she is calling me back. inviting me to re-join. to re-kindle. to love, again. and to tell you...just exactly where i've been.
she is telling me.
come.
back.
somehow, i find myself checking her pages, more than frequently. i catch myself drawn to the lure of her arms. to the surge of her ability, to the frequency of her nagging. where she pulls me back in and makes me want to stay...just...a...little...longer....
i am toying with her charm. her inviting subtlties. her charisma. her freedom. her sanctity. her peace...
she seems too real to let go. too much my own creation to say "see ya later." too much of a friend to endanger. too much of myself to forget.
she is calling me back. inviting me to re-join. to re-kindle. to love, again. and to tell you...just exactly where i've been.
she is telling me.
come.
back.
10.29.2007
I Carry Your Heart
It was one year ago today, that I last heard your voice. It was a Sunday morning, and I laid in my bed and called to wish you a happy birthday. You were kind of confused and told me about who was coming over and if I knew what their plans were. It was a weird conversation, and left me a little shaken, so much so that I called my parents and asked them if I should come home. I told PZ the same, the following Wednesday when I interviewed with her in Cincinnati. It was to be the last phone call I would ever have with you. And the last time I heard you say the familiar words we ended every call with. I can still hear your voice now as one year ago you said them last..."I love you, Natalie."
The last time I would ever hear your voice. I would ever hear you tell me you loved me. But not the last that I would say the same to you.
God how I miss you.
Happy birthday, Grandma.
The last time I would ever hear your voice. I would ever hear you tell me you loved me. But not the last that I would say the same to you.
God how I miss you.
Happy birthday, Grandma.
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the budand the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
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