An Open Letter to the Government

Dear Government,

Can I please have my $600 now? I want to buy stuff. Kthx.

Kisses, La

She Says She’s Leaving on a Sunday

The weekend was pretty fantastic, and I’m fairly certain that I’m still recovering. I spent the entire day Saturday prettifying my house for perspective buyers - spackling and sanding and priming and painting - and fell into bed Saturday night, happy and sore. Yesterday, all the girls gathered at Mom Rad Fanny’s in celebration of Mother’s Day, and also Aunt’s Day, which my mother created for me. Complete with gift. We proceeded to eat our body weight in luscious carbohydrates - fruit salads and poppyseed salads, pumpkin muffins, and a quiche made with $20 worth of cheese according to my mother; Also chocolate chip pancakes for the kids.

My sister and I somehow managed to roll ourselves out the door as Grandma and Great Grandma babysat and we spent a couple of hours shopping together. She had called me in the morning and hastily asked me, “What are you doing after mom’s?” And I always hesitate and say “Why” before I say “Nothing”, because it usually involves a favor I can’t say no to, but this time? I was All. In. She told me that she had tried on five different outfits to go to my mother’s and ended up wearing a pair of jeans and a white sweatshirt. She desperately needed my fashion help.

So I went on my first consulting job, and had so much fun gathering (teeny tiny size XS) outfits for her to try on. I got her out of her comfort zone and into some very stylish outfits. Lest you think I went shopping just for her, which was the real intention? I think you all know where this is going - I garnered about $125 worth of items for myself, including a sweater and a ring that matched ones my sister purchased. As part of her $260 trip. She turned pale as a ghost when the cashier told her her total, and I rubbed her back and told her she was worth it. We then proceeded to go to her house for the rest of the day, cleaning out her drawers and closets of clothing she has been wearing since high school. I might add that she is going to be thirty in a few months. She had denim shorts with pleats. Just saying.

While I was gone yesterday, they had another showing at my house, but I never got any feedback, so I’m assuming that it’s a no-go. Although when I got home today, there was a message saying that they wanted to do an open house on Sunday, and I’m not at ALL freaked out about a whole bunch of people being in my house, touching all my things, rolling around in my underwear and stealing snacks, all at the same time. Please someone buy my house, please. I’m so all done with here.

Speaking of which, I had lunch with my good friend, Steve today. We have been friends since 2000. We met at a work function, and cliqued immediately, and aside from some occasional sexcapades over the years when we were both single, we’ve been great friends ever since. We were talking about my impending move today and all of the sudden he got quiet, and he said, “I’m really sad. I’m going to miss you.” He then brushed it off by joking, “Now I’m going to have to find something else to do for two hours a week.” Because he’s right - we’ve spent at least two hours a week together, every week since we met. I’m going to miss him, too. And it’s weird to think I won’t be seeing him anymore.

Also, even though I saw Nick last weekend, it feels like eleventy hundred days ago that I saw him, and every time we talk on the phone, I cling to it and don’t want to hang up, and every time I get a text message from him, I still get butterflies in my stomach like I did the very first time, and I miss him. A kajillionty.

Send Me the Miles and I’ll Be Happy to Follow You

So thankfully, my father has returned from his cruise. Finally. And he was thrilled when I told him my house was on the market, because I realized this all happened after he left, and he didn’t even know about any of it. I told him that I was ready, like, yesterday to move, and he said, “You know we have a spare room.” How tempting would it be to just up and move right this minute? Very, very tempting. Another housing option popped up yesterday, too, but I have to do some serious thinking about what I want to do. But there’s no question: I’m ready. Were you guys questioning? Because, just in case you were? I’m ready.

I was talking to my sister last night, and apparently my brother (wow, two mentions in one week!) called her the other night and demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me Laurel was moving to Boston?” followed shortly by, “What’s Gram going to do?”

Sigh.

I was talking to my mom at the dance thing last night, and told her about my slight guilt about leaving my grandmother and her carrying the entire burden, and she brushed it off by saying, “You know she’s going to call you twelve times a day whether you live in Rochester or in Boston.” So, I guess there’s that.

But the dance practice last night? Wow. These are girls between the ages of like ten and twelve, and my god, I can’t believe how positively awkward they were. I whispered to my mother, “Were [sister] and I this awkward as kids?” And she just started laughing, and then said, “Yes, but you smiled a lot more.” This group of girls was so self conscious, so just unbelievably uncoordinated and gawky. Except for one girl that both my sister and I could not stop staring at, and we both felt a little pervy. But it was because she stuck out like a sore thumb. She had legs for miles, and my sister and I both decided, definitely a gel-enhanced bra, because my lord. I can’t even adequately describe the beauty of this young girl, and from her general demeanor, you could tell that she had absolutely no idea how stunning she was. I am so glad I’m not twelve anymore. What a horrible, uncertain time.

But so the dancing? Not so much good as it was just a lot of clacking (tap) and falling into each other and completely unsynchronized, which I’m fairly certain is the direct opposite of what it was supposed to be. It was really hard not to laugh, and then alternately cry when we were told that all of the recitals - jazz, tap, and Irish dance - are all on the same day. That is going to be one very long day. My sister is bringing the Tylenol and I’m bringing snacks. My mother, of course, is bringing two video cameras.

Anyhoodle, here’s hoping that everyone has a fantastic weekend, and if you want to come over and help me pack, you totally can. But if you don’t want, that’s fine, too, because I LOVE PACKING. Oh, and I’m moving! You know, sometime!

Quiet, Dim the Lights, Adopt Another Lifestyle

(First thing’s first - I updated my blogroll last night, so if I missed you, which is entirely possible, please let me know and I’ll get you on there.)

I got a call yesterday from an unfamiliar number, and it ended up being my Realtor’s assistant. He called to tell me that someone had expressed interest in my house, and wanted to know if it was ok to come by last night to look at it.

Which meant several things: one, I had to totally and completely FREAK OUT, and then I had to go home and do a clear inspection of all of Boots’ secret pooping spaces, I had to clean the house, top to bottom, and I had to gather all of my unmentionables from the basement that were hanging to dry because my dryer is broken. (Which is a bit of awesomeness in itself, because now every time I go to my mom’s, I bring laundry. When I went to visit my dad in Boston? I brought laundry. I feel like I’m in college again.)

In addition, I had to wrangle all the pups and try to get their harnesses on them, which is not an easy feat by any means, because they are very wiggly and excited when they see the harnesses because they think it means w-a-l-k. Unfortunately, it did not last night. Because it was raining. So I piled them into the car and we drove to the beach, and I kept doing laps passing by my house waiting for the strangers to leave. Methinks the next time I have a showing, I’m going to come up with a better plan, because basically I was just wasting a lot of gas. Dickens was wigging out and crying and jumping back and forth from the front seat to the back, not caring whose head he stepped on in the process, Boots sat quietly panicked and wide-eyed on the front seat of the car having no idea what was going on, and Bronte kept trying to snuggle into my lap. I was exhausted by the time we got back home.

We walked in the door, and all of the dogs stopped short. And then the barking began. It’s so funny how they knew that someone had been in the house. Maybe it was their keen sense of smell? But then they started running all over the house, crying, barking, sniffing, and trying to find the invaders. The whole thing was kind of surreal, because when I got the phone call at work? My heart dropped. Like? This is really happening now. I mean, obviously, these people aren’t necessarily buying my house? But someone will. And I’m moving. And somehow, that phone call solidified it.

I also got another unfamiliar phone call when I got home, and I usually don’t answer them, but for some reason, I did. And it was my sister-in-law. We’re not exceptionally close, being that she is married to my brother, which as you all know, as it has been well documented here, that he and I don’t exactly hold hands and skip around together. But I don’t hold that against her (though I do question her taste in men), and she’s actually ok to talk to on the phone when you’re bored because she’s very chatty. She began by saying, “So is everything going ok with you guys?” Meaning Andy, and she was like, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Habit.” The conversation could only go uphill from there.

So we caught up on family gossip, and then she said, “How’s your job going?” And it was then that I took a deep breath and actually said out loud for the first time, “Well, I’m leaving my job, my house is on the market and I’m moving to Boston.”

It’s not that I’ve kept the secret from most of my family, but in a way, it is. I’ve been talking in hypotheticals and maybes when everyone asks me what I’m doing (”I might move to Boston”), even though I know there are no maybes about it. And in a way, it was easier telling my sister-in-law, because then she can tell everyone else. And she will. But she was really happy about all of my other career plans, too, and it’s not like it really matters? Because I’m the only one I need to listen to? But it’s nice when other people back you up and say, “Yah, this is the right decision for you.”

Also, my dad and stepmom get back from their cruise today, which they’ve literally been on since the day I left them back in April, and I’m SO PSYCHED because I’ve been having mini aneurysms waiting for them to get back so we can start planning my move. UGH.

And lastly, I got a call this morning from my niece, who asked me to come see her dance practice tonight because it’s like Visitor’s Week or something, and it made me really happy at first, and then kinda sad thinking about how these are the things I’m going to miss out on when I move.

I Cannot Forget Where It Is That I Come From

I had a dream last night that asshat’s grandmother died. And I woke up profoundly sad. Part of me wanted to call her, right then at 4:00 in the morning just to make sure she was ok, because I’ve had dreams about death before that have actually been about death. I’m not going to say I’m psychic? But, prophetic dreams do not escape me. I also know enough that death in dreams usually just means the end of something in your life, and end of a phase of your life, which then made me really, really happy, because maybe this means I’m finally starting to let go. Of the anger, the hurt, and the loss of my old life. Though I really do miss his grandmother. I’m not going to lie. But I think I’m telling myself that I’m ready for my new life.

It’s funny, because lately, I feel like I’ve been getting little “signs” that the decisions I’m making are the right ones for me. I worry about that a lot. I worry that I’m going to sever the ties with everything that has enveloped me in comfort for the past twelve years, I’m going to get to Boston, feel completely alone, and feel like I’ve made a colossal mistake. And to be honest, I’m sure I’m going to have days like that. And I think knowing that ahead of time makes me feel like I’ll be able to get through them. Because I haven’t been this excited about something in a very, very long time. I finally feel like I’m making decisions for myself, for my own happiness, and not catering to anyone else’s. And it feels really good. And I had a fantastic time yesterday spending the entire day looking for apartments online thinking, “I absolutely deserve to live in a building with a doorman and an indoor pool, gym, free internet and state of the art appliances.” Because you know what? Screw it, you only live once, and I’m going to splurge. And have someone take care of me for a change.

I’m finding it increasingly difficult to show up to work every day now, especially the past few days, because one, I was on vacation, spending time with the most wonderful man who makes me melt even when he calls me after I’ve already fallen asleep and I wake up just to hear his voice, and two, my heart is just not in this job anymore. Not that it really has been for the past few years, but it’s definitely gone now. Now every time someone walks into my office and says, “Laurel?” I answer, “She’s not here right now, can I take a message?” And they laugh, and I say, “No, seriously.” Because I’m ready. I pace around my house at night mentally deciding what to pack, what to toss, what to donate, and I’m just ready. Someone please buy my house so I can move now, kthxbai.

I Will Still Tell You One Thing, We Are Better Together

Laurel left me a comment today that really struck a chord. It’s not like me to post twice in one day, I know. And it’s not like me to run three miles when I get home from work, either, but I did that today, too. Who knows what’s going on with me. But she asked when you were all going to hear more about the La and Nick romance. I’m paraphrasing, of course. But I felt it only fair to talk about this, because I realize that it’s a subject that’s sort of fell off the blog as of late. And you probably have questions.

I’ve had a hard time with the subject of Nick and I in my writing lately.  It’s something that I kind of knew would happen, the further the relationship progressed. It’s why I sort of wanted to stop blogging for a while, because I lost the ability to balance the sharing of my life with the protecting his feelings and the privacy of our relationship. Because he is not someone unknown to most of you - he is someone you read and cherish, much the same way I do. And I just didn’t think it was fair to lay it all out there. I felt like I needed his permission to talk about some things, and that’s when I sort of lost the focus of what my blog really meant to me.

Sometimes, I just want to write the blog just for him. Sometimes, I only want my innermost feelings to be known to him. I want them to be private and something intimate that we share that is not plastered all over the internet. And that’s why I deleted all my archives last week. Because I’m a lot less anonymous than he is, there is also that hurdle of revealing too much and taking away from him what he’s trying to preserve. And I don’t want to do that. I can’t say that knowing he’s reading my blog has changed my writing - I hope that it hasn’t. But I can say that I write with him in mind. I wonder what he thinks about what I’ve written, if he’s going to leave me a comment, whether he’s uncomfortable that I’ve revealed too much, or frustrated that I spoke to him through my blog rather than right to him, because he has to share all of this information with all of you. At the same time. And that just didn’t seem fair.

In the beginning, of course everything was hearts and rainbows and flowers and blushing? And while it still certainly is present, the relationship has also taken a very real turn. We worry about if our relationship is going to work in the long run - if the physical distance between us is going to make us implode. We ask these questions all the time, and the answers change all the time. I worry if I’m going to have enough money to travel and see him as often as I’d like. I wonder if when I move to Boston, if my new job is going to enable me to devote as much time to him as I’d like to. I wonder if his job is going is going to do the same; I wonder if his new life is going to leave any room for me. If I’m still going to fit. I wonder if our life choices are going to change everything that we’ve built this far; whether we should give up now and prevent hurt further down the road or stay in this and fight for it. We have some rough roads ahead of us, I’m not going to lie. And at the risk of sounding vague, they are a lot more intense than the “normal” long distance relationship faces. A lot more serious. A lot more trying. A lot more uncertain. And it forces us to look into the future. And get really, really frightened.

None of what I’ve written here is anything he doesn’t know already. It’s nothing that we haven’t talked about, struggled with, and speaking for myself, lost a lot of sleep over. He knows that I am in this; he knows that I’m willing to do just about anything to make this work. He knows that I have faith in him, and faith in us. And for now, that’s really all I can do. I can’t tell the future. I don’t know what all the different variables in our life that are completely out of our control are going to do to us. Whether they’re going to break us apart, or make us ten times stronger. Obviously, I hope and pray for the latter.

But so it’s for all these reasons, and probably so many more, that the blog will probably remain a little Nick-lite in the future. It’s just something I have to do to protect him, to protect me, my heart, and the bond between us that needs a chance to grow.

Rushing and Racing and Running in Circles

(This was written yesterday during my layover…)

As luck would have it, I’m stuck in an airport again. I arrived in Washington after a twenty-eight (!) minute flight, eager to race to my gate thinking I was leaving in less than an hour, only to find that my flight has already been delayed for two hours. I’m drinking really bad coffee, I had to eat my cereal with a plastic fork because I couldn’t find a spoon to save my life, and I’m sitting on the floor because the airport is so crowded. In addition, no internet connection. Which is simply awesome.

I figured I would recount my trip with as much detail as I can since I have the time. To preface? I was really afraid of taking this trip, for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, of course, the fact that I had to be on several planes, which as aforementioned, I haven’t done since roughly 1999. I was also kind of nervous to see Nick, which probably sounds a little strange, but the thing I’ve come to notice about long distance relationships? Not only are they really, really hard? The longer you go in between seeing each other, the wonkier things get. And it had been about a month since we’d seen each other. Which is a lot of time to allow crazy thoughts to swirl around your collective heads.

Thankfully, the flights were bearable, and everything else was just absolutely wonderful and all my nervousness sort of melted away the minute he smiled at me and took me into his arms. And this is the dress that I picked out, especially for him, since he’s only really seen me in various stages of undress (which I suppose is not all bad) or some variation of sweatpants, his sweatshirt, his long-sleeve t, or pajamas. And one that lasted on my body for approximately thirteen minutes. It’s pretty though, no?

We decided that Saturday was the most perfect day, ever, and the only way to top it was if we could receive giant bags of money, which, sadly, did not happen. But we started the day the best way possible you can start a day (wink wink), and then headed out for the day. We did some shopping, we went to Qdoba for lunch, we walked around, we went to the giant expanse that is Nick’s work, and since I’m not sure how revealing I’m allowed to be, I will leave it at that. But it was seriously, seriously impressive.

From there, we went to the Botanical Gardens and spent an hour or two strolling through lush gardens of the most fragrant and beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. We also took a little train-like tour of the gardens, which was relaxing and beautiful, and here is a picture of some pretty flowers:

After the garden tour, we headed back to my hotel to “rest”. Afterwards, I packed my suitcase and decided to check out of my fleabag motel early, which is a post for a whole other day, and we drove out to the beach to get some dinner.

We found a little pub called Abbey Road that was a Beatles inspired eatery, and we had an intimate dinner rather late at night, with live music, and perfect weather. We drove back to his apartment after dinner with the windows down and the beautiful night air just putting the perfect cap on the weekend. We fell asleep wrapped around each other, and I was holding on maybe a little too tight. I was sad to say goodbye today, and am not ashamed to say that I was wearing sunglasses in the car on the way to the airport even though it wasn’t really sunny at all, because, well, you know.

I miss him already.

So it’s 7:30 AM, and I’m writing to you from the cafe in my hotel. Admittedly, I’ve not seen much of the South yet, because of the insane flight issues yesterday. My second flight was delayed, and then it was delayed, and then, oh, guess what, DELAYED. And then we had to switch gates. And planes. And then sat on the runway FOR AN HOUR in the plane not moving. When I finally got here, I was exhausted, cranky, and hungry, because I somehow managed to eat nothing but a granola bar and half a Snickers bar all day. Good eating habits, I has them. Luckily, Nick got out of work a lot earlier than he thought he would, and we had a nice night reconnecting. Wink wink. Ahem. It’s funny how when you’re away from someone for a while? You sort of forget how just devastatingly handsome they are. And how comforting it is to sleep next to them.

So, now he’s at work, and I have the whole day ahead of me to go out and see some things, but the pool just seems so much more appealing, as does the stack of books and magazines I brought with me that I never managed to even crack open during my long day yesterday. We’ll see, though. I am in the South, with beautiful weather, and I should probably be taking advantage of that and not being a total dork and reading all day.  I tend to get stir crazy when I’m in one place for too long, too. But I’m kind of stuck here, because I’m not sure what there is to do in relation to where I am right now, and without a car? Yah. Mayhaps I will do a little research and see what the day brings.

Near, Far , Wherever You Are

I’m currently sitting in the Philly airport waiting to steal internet access, but it’s taking longer than I anticipated. My first flight? In nine years? Was like nothing. Painless. Easy. I don’t know why I haven’t eaten for the past three days because I was so nervous, because it really wasn’t bad at all. It felt like a sneeze, and I was here. And speaking of sneezing, I just had a huge squeaky sneeze in the shuttle on the way over to this terminal, and the guy next to me started laughing and said “Bless you” and then said “That was probably the cutest sneeze I’ve ever heard.” ??! I’m also fairly certain I was sitting with the air marshal after a slight seat mix-up, so that made me feel a lot better for some reason.

They’re currently playing the theme song from Titanic over the loud speaker, except not the actual song – it’s in muzack form. I didn’t think this song could get any worse. Apparently, I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

So, as it turns out, I couldn’t steal internet access and they actually make you PAY for it, like, um, what?? But, whatevs. $8.00 is a fair price to pay for having something to do for the THREE HOURS I am sitting here with nothing to do. Can’t someone come entertain me? Anyway, I have nothing to say, really, other than the fact that I was really surprised to find that my suitcase weighed 52 pounds, and that was AFTER I whittled my shoes down by four pair.

And you know, the part about not really believing I am on my way to see Nick. Because, woah.

Fingers Trace Your Every Outline, Paint a Picture With My Hands

So there’s a “for sale” sign on my lawn, and I keep looking at it like it’s some sort of uninvited guest. As I pulled out of my driveway this morning, I gave it the stink eye and second guessed my decision for the katrillionth time. I asked my mother and my friend Lisa yesterday if they thought I was making the right decision, and they both said emphatically, “YES”, and had several valid reasons to back it up. So, for now, I’m just going to try and relax and see what happens next. I’m finding that the uncertainty isn’t always bad, and it’s almost exciting not knowing when I’m moving, where I’ll be living, and just how broke I’ll be. And I’m not going to lie? I’m sort of looking forward to telling the ex that I’m moving, but I want to tell him to his face, and, you know, like the day before I leave with all of his stuff and the dogs. Where does all the bitterness stem from? Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that he’s a disgusting man whore? Anyhoodle.

In all of the house/life decision drama that’s been going on lately, I sort of forgot to make arrangements for the next two days, because you see, I’m taking a little vacation. I’m headed south, and I’ve been packed for about a week now. I bought two new bathing suits, even though it might not even be warm enough to swim, and perfectly coordinated all of my outfits with jewelry and handbags, and is ten pairs of shoes too much for four days? I tried on all my outfits ahead of time, and now my suitcase weighs about a hundred pounds. I’m really looking forward to this time away - time to clear my head, time to reconnect with a boy who I am missing so much it aches, and time to spend some time in the sunshine. I deserve this. And I can’t wait. Even though it involves being on lots of planes, and so far, I’m not even nervous yet, which surprises me more than it probably does you.

But, so I forgot to line up guest bloggers, though I’m going to hit up two of my best girls today and see if they can help a sister out, and if not, maybe I can blog from the airport tomorrow when I’m stuck in Philly for three hours, or on Friday as I’m lying by the pool in the sun. Are you jealous? You should be. Have a great weekend everyone, and keep your fingers crossed that no major plane related catastrophes occur.