been a long time and ai ai ai

Um... so rather than tell you what I've been up to (although I do hope to have a real update very soon!), I present to you a visual depicting Why I Was Sent Home Early Today:

And yes, I really do live next door to the Cattle Raisers Museum.

10 things that make me happy at this very moment

Somewhat overdue... but you'll get over it. And now, in no particular order:

1. laying in bed, full from epicurean feast of ham/swiss chicken in madeira sauce, cheddar broccoli, wild rice and apple blackberry crisp
2. being 4 glasses of wine deep
3. having written the thesis of long, important-ass application essay
4. knowing that A is just a phone call (or 2.5 hr drive) away
5. drinking 5th glass of wine while blogging
6. talking to best friend B about everything and nothing
7. being wooed by university, despite the fact that it is one in which I have no interest
8. knowing TiVo is saving a week's worth of unwatched programs, just for me
9. planning upcoming pilgrimage to Boston
10. having 4 unused days of 2005 vacation

uncovering the truth

It was a Monday night, Doris Kearns Goodwin was in town to publicize her new book on Abraham Lincoln, and I had decided to put the claims of my 11th grade AP U.S. History teacher to the test.

After a scintillating 90 minute discussion of Abe's political genius, past scuffles with plagiarism accusations, and the merits of the designated hitter rule, I followed the masses to the lower level of Bass Hall to purchase a signed copy of Team of Rivals.

What I really wanted to know was: does Mr. B. really know her? Eight years ago - holy shit, almost a decade? - I was sitting in class, listening to a voice recording of Kearns Goodwin that B. had brought in from his answering machine as show-and-tell. I remember not what was said in the recording, but that Mr. B was giddy with excitement at having concrete proof that he was an acquaintance, possibly even a colleague, of a reknowned author. In all likelihood most of us rolled our eyes and we moved on with the regularly scheduled lesson.

Now, years later, I still vividly remember the day when I saw a grown man become excited at the mere thought of knowing a well-known historian. And here was my chance to see if that excitement was justified.

"I have to say, I completely agree with your statement that everyone should have a history teacher that can generate excitement. I once had such a teacher who taught AP U.S. History in Sharon, MA named J.B. Do you know him?"

"Sorry... I don't think so."

I feel so betrayed.

ups & downs

Today's plusses

• teaching 4th grade Junior Achievement
• having productive meetings
• temps in the 70's
• going home 6 minutes early
• looking at amusing pix of team building day at Habitat For Humanity

Today's minuses

• learning about 4th grader's desire to start own dog fighting ring
• breaking a nail
• discovering missing windshield molding caused by windshield replacement negligence

Today's saving graces

• receiving email from JA teacher assuring me of intention to talk to troubled student
• apology from Mr. Glass & guarantee of free replacement molding
• working out, albeit for 25 minutes
• watching cheesy romance movie on FOX
• contemplating upcoming fantastic weekend with boyfriend

victory is mine!

Looks like the orchids did something for my test scores today... Amazingly, I did as well as - OK, actually better than - I had hoped! More importantly, thank sweet [deity of choice] I don't have to put myself through it again!!

Of course, I am somewhat disappointed in the fact that I felt stumped by all but the easiest math problems, but I made up for it, miraculously, in the verbal section. Why I was never an English major, I will never know.

Since leaving the Prometric Testing Center, I have been laying in bed, surfing the web & watching Hide and Seek. Despite my best efforts to believe that I am finally done studying, I am still lying here, feeling as though I should still be cracking open the books.

Maybe a glass of wine will change that...

why i love my boyfriend - reason #5872

lazy, hungover Sunday night

Having totally kicked ass on today's full-length practice computer adaptive test, I promptly came home this afternoon, ordered digital prints to be picked up at Target tomorrow, reheated a gourmet meal for dinner, drank two - TWO! - glasses of wine, and sat my ass on the couch to enjoy Sunday night television. I remember the days when the only thing to look forward to on Sunday nights was the X-Files. Before reality TV - the good old days. I am happy to see that non-reality is still holding its own.

Does anyone else out there watch Gray's Anatomy? Is Sandra Oh not the most hilarious character ever?

At some point this week I swear I am going to shout "SOMEONE SEDATE ME!" I'm not saying when, I'm just saying it's gonna happen.

finder's keepers

While not as productive today as I had hoped, I still managed to get a significant amount of studying done. My good intentions to get to the local coffee shop at 8 am were thwarted when I woke up in a panic at 8:27 am and thought, "My God! The alarm isn't set for weekends!" Fortunately, and according to my therapist, I am now better equipped to deal with an unexpected change in plans - I studied in the quiet of my dining room while I waited until 10, when the local library opened.

It seems that I am the only person in Fort Worth who regularly takes advantage of our huge-ass temple of literary bliss and intellectual solitude... And I like it that way. When I think back to my days as a young and impressionable bookworm, I remember feeling overwhelmed and nervous at the thought of being among so many unread books. Behold, the magnitude of the task before me! This continued even throughout my high school years, which seemed to involve a lot of studying at the Sharon Public Libary or various institutes of higher learning. Even Tisch and the BPL struck some semblance of fear into the very core of my being, as, for me, each new library presented a new set of questions - Will their internet work? How is their fiction catalogued? Do they have private study areas? Will they have what I'm looking for? Will I be be able to accomplish enough during my time here? Will the decrepit library monitor confiscate the tall Starbucks nonfat hazelnut latte protruding from the inside of my peacoat like a fanny-pack gone terribly wrong? Only time would tell.

These days, I'm not so anxious about libraries. Perhaps it's because my visits are mostly recreational. But even now, when I seek a quiet room in which to study, my experience is fairly pleasant. I can finish the work I set out to finish with minimal discomfort. I also think that I can attribute a large part of my ease in the FWPL to the fact that, in contrast to past experiences, there is so little library traffic to contend with. I know, almost without a doubt, that My Study Room will be always be available. Toddlers don't study, and, around here, adults don't appear to, either.

In fact, the day I encounter an adult making use of MY coveted spot is the day I will either heartily congratulate them for pursuing higher education or accuse them of pedophelia. Regardless, the conversation will end with me kicking the offender out. Because you're allowed to do that when it's your study room.

discombobulation, with a side of TMI

A little sanity goes a long way.

Not to say that my state of mind is / has been stress-free as of late. I still have a GMAT to stress about for the next 9 days. In fact, my body appears to be rebelling against the ebb and flow of recent anxiety levels and has decided to break out with a mild case of hives. At least according to my highly-scientific self-diagnosis. Tomorrow's doctor's appointment may prove otherwise.

Regardless, I feel that I have regained a sense of balance. Just about a month ago I felt out of control, wondering what emotional calamities tomorrow would bring. I was so nervous that I couldn't eat. Today, however, I ate a sesame bagel with whipped cream cheese, a Hershey's dark chocolate nugget with almonds, leftover dijon-herb salmon with rice and green beans, a banana, chocolate cake, a white chocolate cranberry cookie, more salmon (this is what happens when your freezer is full of summer's bounty), broccoli, and milk. And I'm sitting here wondering how to satisfy my sweet tooth.

My reformed eating habits aside, I find the bloggerific quality of my life declining, now that it is decidedly less dramatic. I could tell you about how great/happy/promising/etc. my recently rekindled relationship has been, but a.) I try not to air laundry, dirty or otherwise, in a public forum, and b.) it's just not interesting blog fodder. I could discuss my GMAT woes at length. Or brag about being a newly-certified SCUBA diver. But that would only entertain for so long.

Maybe this "almost normal" thing will rub off and I will learn to release some more of my inner drama queen. Until then, my sincere apologies for boring you all to hell and back.

presenting...

As I am in the midst of studying for the GMAT, preparing for this weekend's marathon SCUBA diving class, doing laundry and cleaning one very disgusting apartment, this will have to be quick. For those of you who have thus far been unable to read into my cryptic entries, things have been going much, much better for me. Therapy is great, I have some semblance of an idea of where my life may be headed, and yes - I am, once again, off the market. After nearly a month of negotiations, we have decided that despite all the hurdles to be faced now and in the future, we would much rather give it a shot together. So to my collective blog-audience of, oh, I'd estimate no more than 10, I introduce a new member:

A.

fresh start

Well it's been another month in the life of H. I am in the midst of studying dutifully for the GMAT, and actually doing reasonably well. I spent an afternoon getting a much-needed mani/pedi with an old friend. This past week I was sent to LA on strict schmoozing business. Once that was over and done with, I spent the weekend... you know... in Hollywood. Oh, and brunched in Beverly Hills. And strolled along Venice Beach. And randomly happened upon a filming of C.S.I. Miami. And shopped at the Hustler store on Sunset Boulevard. Who does these things, you ask? Why, I think I do. But don't worry - reality came crashing down the moment I was SEXILED by my gracious host. But that's neither here nor there.

Most importantly, I no longer feel as though I'm on the brink of insanity. Quite the opposite, really. I'm a hell of a lot more aware of myself this time around. Yes, there is a lot to work on... and this time I think I might actually be ready to do it. At the moment, things between A and me are very much out in the open, and we both agree that it's a great thing. No, we don't know for certain what we are doing, or if it's for the best. But, unlike the old me, I am looking forward to making - or continuing to make - my own mistakes.

blogging tipsily

I just came back from happy hour, during which I had my first adult beverage, excepting a glass of wine in Alaska, since J was in town, helping me spread the love around the entire DFW metroplex. You could say I have been in self-imposed detox for the past few weeks. I kind of liked it - no more reason to spend endless amounts of $$$ on a debilitating substance, constant clarity, feeling healthy (OK, healthier at the very least).

Since my return to Earth this week (i.e. finally realizing anticipated mental breakdown), I can count the number of actual meals I've had on one hand. And yes, I am getting better, people - no need to worry. Nerves have just always had a way of tearing my innards to pieces. So, due to my recent diet, it should be no surprise that a single Shiner Bock left me in a tizzy. I cut myself off and headed to the bookstore, where I went to pick up a GMAT book. Here's a tip to those of you who haven't tried it before: the problem with going to the bookstore when slightly un-sober is that you will pick up an MCAT book and start freaking the hell out when you peruse through the questions and realize that there is no way in hell that you will ever make it into grad school.

I fortunately realized the error of my ways before reaching the checkout line. But just wanted to give ya'll a heads-up. Don't go to the bookstore drunk. It can only lead to a severely depleted sense of self-confidence. Not. Good.

lost

I never thought that so soon after my whirlwind summer schedule of travel and excitement I would return to such a pathetic state of... nothingness. I have been to New Orleans, New York, Boston, Dallas 3 times in one week (quite the trek in and of itself), Alaska and back. During that time, I knew nary a dull moment - nothing but learning, experiencing, living... I jumped out of a plane, learned a new and unladylike dance move, went fly-fishing with bears (oh, my!), met a strangely alluring Brit, reunited with many dear friends and had the time of my life doing all that and more.

Yet now that I'm back to the old routine (i.e. being a homebody), I just canNOT, for the life of me, shake the post-relationship mental rehashing. Every spare moment of the day - of which there are many, these days - is spent thinking about good times with A, what made us work, what went wrong, things I wish I had said, and things that might have been done to prevent all the damage done along the way. I also have moments of strength and lucidity... where I see our breakup as rational and think, hey, if one of us falls more in love with someone else, that means there must be that equally-special someone for the other person. And that's OK.

Of course, with none of it being relevant to the current state of affairs, I do realize that there is little point in reliving what "might have been." I also know that I've had these thoughts before, and past experience indicates that they are a normal step towards letting go. The last time this happened, however, I never got that chance to get past the "what ifs & regrets" stage. We got back together, things were temporarily blissful, and then, once again, I got cold feet.

If I don't get over this soon, I may have to do something drastic. Like talk to a bonafide professional.

Me - crazy? Who would have thought?

in lieu of an actual post...

To celebrate the Sox sweep over the Rangers... Behold: gratuitous photo of Johnny, taken after my request that he "shake what his momma gave him."

Southie stars aligning

It was after I met up with a long-lost high school friend in NYC this weekend that I made a shocking discovery: fellow high schooler, W, works in Fort Worth! Having no idea how this came about, I was pleased, when, upon my arrival back in Cowtown, I received a phone message left by a familiar neurotic voice. Before I knew it, I was making plans to meet not only him tomorrow, but also my first boyfriend, who, by some strange twist of fate, happens to be in town for the next week or so.

For some reason, I am giddy with anticipation at the thought of my second reunion in a week. In all probability, it is just a matter of continuing to distract myself from thinking about any of my recent drama. Nevertheless, I shall anxiously await tomorrow's post-pilates happy hour with bated breath. I realize it may be overkill to bring my camera, but, oh, how I wish it were more socially acceptable. Perhaps I can just leave it in the car...

leap of faith, part deux

Do any of you know what it's like to jump out of a plane at 13,500 feet - 2 miles above the earth? Neither do I. My skydiving experience last weekend was almost entirely an out-of-body experience. Who can honestly say they skydive with all of their faculties intact?

OK, so really I was scared out of my mind, and, yes, I do remember most of the details. There was the 20 minute tandem jump video that was so haphazardly cut and pasted back together that the bearded skydiver man on the TV never seemed to convey a complete thought. There was the 2 hour wait following the oh-so-brief briefing. There was a near panic as we watched the video of someone who had just finished their first tandem jump.

And then.

It was time.

We suited up in our sexy blue "falling out of aircraft" one-piece outfits-with-limb-handles. We were fitted with hotttt puke-blue helmets (should there exist such a hue). We waited. We made anxious conversation. We met our jump masters. Mine was named Ernie and had made over 9,000 jumps, and yet I couldn't shake the premonition that I would be crashing into the ground at 120 mph in a matter of minutes.

We walked out to a grassy runway, where the tiniest yellow plane you can imagine rolled up to our modest waiting area of about 6 wooden benches. We boarded the plane, strapped ourselves in and climbed into the atmosphere - with the plane's door hanging wide open!! At some point someone handed me a piece of candy. And despite the fact that I knew if I didn't crash into the earth I would die a pitiful death from choking on a mint, I unwrapped it and popped it into my mouth without hestitation. Before I knew it, I was unbuckling, strapping myself to my jump master, and looking out of the doorway, 2 miles above ground and scared out of my mind. It is a truly strange feeling to realize that you don't have a whole lot of say in the matter when you have a moustached man named Ernie strapped to your back. Seconds later, I was hurling myself into an empty space, filled with nothing but the sound of wind all around me.

After that initial holy hell, why did I just jump out of a plane feeling, there wasn't much else to do than look at the cameraman and smile. So I did just that - and, in the end, received some truly nerdy pictures as a result.

As we fell through layers of atmosphere, each warmer than the next (it was about 100 degrees on the ground), I realized that it wasn't so bad. The fact that I was hurtling towards the earth at an alarming rate was so inconceivable that it took the shock of our blessed parachute (canopy, in professional skydiver talk) opening to make me realize that, yes, I did indeed just freefall for about a mile.

Would I do it again? Sure, why not... But I do think that I've met my daredevil quota for the year.

leap of faith

So I jumped out of a plane this weekend, and lived to tell the tale. Details to come, once the pictures are developed...

the hazard of owning an iPod

For whatever reason, I have had trouble getting myself to bed at a decent hour lately. As in, for the past couple of weeks. This being the case, some days I have been going to work with some degree of zombie-like symptoms. Nothing a good dose of Starbucks or extra-strength Excedrin can't cure. Today, after an exceptionally long and arduous day filled with deadlines and last-minute changes and an ensuing fatigue that would not be held at bay with the usual measures, I decided to spend the last couple of work hours in relative quiet, with only the din of my tunes to keep me company - and to prevent me from falling asleep on my keyboard. (Editor's Note: not only does my iPod keep me awake, but it also makes work more enjoyable and tends to help keep others from unnecessarily breaking your rhythm by saying something to the effect of, I can't hear you, talk to someone who cares.)

All was well and good - I was chugging right along, making slow and steady progress in my efforts to complete a program once and for all, when I heard Howie Day's Collide come on. Normally I am not one to allow myself to be outwardly affected by music, particularly in public. It is a very personal part of my life, and I tend to like it that way. Until today, this particular song had never even had any specific meaning to me, but when I heard it this afternoon it immediately directed my thoughts towards A.

You see, we've been broken up since July 4.

I have been surprisingly unaffected by the whole thing. It probably has something to do with the fact that we've done it before, and not so long ago, at that. In a way, however, I also saw it coming, and therefore had ample time to prepare and desensitize myself. Since we last saw each other, I have been busier than ever - going out with friends, traveling, pursuing new hobbies, reading, exercising, laying by the pool, entertaining the idea of a new fellow in my life... I figured it was due to my "being OK" with everything, not a symptom of anything to the contrary. After all, I have been able to refocus my energies toward a new romantic interest - does that not mean that I'm ready to move on?

Apparently not. When approached last week by said fellow, who revealed that he is most certainly interested in pursuing something, I was certainly flattered. After all, I have secretly harbored a major crush on him for approximately a year now. Walking home after that conversation, however, I was in a panic. Aside from some serious baggage on his end, am I really ready to go through this again? As far as I can tell, this is the kind of guy with whom anything less than serious would be an insult to both parties. Fortunately for me, it appears that my busy summer schedule will prevent me from making any rash decisions in the romance department.

Regardless, I am confronted with the more immediate issue of coming to terms with what would have tomorrow been a 5-year relationship. Who can I confide in now? With whom can I share my innermost thoughts and insecurities? Will I ever meet anyone who understands me to the depth that A and I have attained together? If so, will they love me anyway?

The biggest regret I have is not telling him how I felt about him before we parted ways. How I will always feel about him. I have considered calling/emailing/writing, but I doubt he wants to hear from me. And what would be the point, other than to allow ME to unload this emotional anvil from my shoulders? Or could it serve as part of the healing process for us both?

For now, a void has once again been left by the loss of my best friend. Even more sad is that it took Howie Day to make me realize it.

update II - photo frenzy

It turns out my digital snapshots are not as vivid as memory serves me, but here are a few gems...

	BAHAMAS: relaxing on Cable Beach, wishing I had a cabana boy handy...
	BAHAMAS: the biggest free drink I will ever quaff, and it was enjoyed in the very subtle ambiance of Anthony's Caribbean Grill
	VEGAS: at first glance, this may appear to be your run-of-the-mill hotel bathroom shot. upon close inspection, however, you will see the glory that is the flat screen TV embedded IN my bathroom mirror! everyone needs a little BET in their morning routine...
	LONE STAR PARK: explaining the fine subtleties of equestrian gambling to dear friend S

sup, dawgs?

If I had to choose a few reasons for my recent blogging shortcomings, I would have to select the following:

• traveling to the Bahamas
• the commencement of summer and, therefore, outdoor patios & poolside lounging
• Jumbo symposium in Vegas
• realizing that I can actually complete a full day's work by bringing it home in a laptop case
• acquiring a mild gambling addiction...
• portioning out the rest of my scant vacation days
• planning new adventures
  

In time, I will most certainly post pictures from my latest adventures, but I just haven't gotten around to it.

In a nutshell, the Bahamas were great! The weather was less than cooperative, but it really could have been worse. A and I spent our time scuba diving, jet skiing, eating conch in its many Bahamian forms, and lounging under a straw hut. True, the humidity was about 100% the entire time, the motorbike adventure never quite "took off," their ATMs had $5 surcharges and our hotel room smelled like mildew, but overall it was a relaxing and fun vacation.

My trip to Vegas was, ahem, all expenses paid, a point that I did attempt to take full advantage of. The purpose of the trip was, unfortunately, not to emulate a Swingers way of life - I was there on very important Jumbo alumni business. Of course, when I wasn't discussing active citizenship or making PB&J sandwiches for Las Vegas veterans, I was taking a dip in our hotel's lazy river; riding the rollercoaster at New York, New York; attending "O" at the Bellagio; winning at blackjack; losing at blackjack... and, in general, spreading the Jumbo love throughout Sin City. You know, just doing my part for society.

Fast forward to present-tense. Inspired by my time in the Bahamas, I am now looking into getting scuba-certified. Just today I made a non-refundable deposit on a skydive in July. After I submit this post, I plan on researching an August trip to Alaska, as well as Chinese language classes in the DFW metroplex. I have started to take golf more seriously, going so far as to invest in a set of irons & woods. When it comes to horse betting, my interest in such stats as the "trainer jockey combo" and "good breeding" is no longer fleeting. At this point, there is pretty much nothing that I won't spend my hard-earned $$ on, and I think I like it!

Have I hit my quarter-life crisis?

forget Moab

How about Nassau?

I booked the trip just yesterday while at work (thanks to my foresight in realizing that I would be out late celebrating Cinco de Mayo and thus unable to make reservations until the following day - far too late for such an extravagant purchase). The booking was made quickly, as I had a meeting to attend within 10 minutes of making the decision.

In retrospect, it was not the wisest decision I have made recently... But with the way my week was going, it was just about par for course.

I received a call this morning from the travel agency with whom we had booked the getaway. They had a question about the personal information of one of the passengers. As it turns out, I had unwittingly sent his nickname flying through the void of the world wide web, where it was taken and turned into a fully issued non-refundable ticket for a person that, according to A's passport, birth certificate and drivers' license, does not exist.

Their advice to me was to call The Airline and try to use my customer wiles to convince them to change the ticket without charging a fee. If that didn't work, I was told that I would have to forfeit the cost of the ticket and purchase an entirely new $414 ticket. After calling The Airline and learning that a.) they would not touch a ticket that had been purchased through a travel agency and b.) that if anyone was going to decide to help me, it would have to be the travel agency, I decided to call the travel agency back. After all, they were the ones who were said to possess the power of divine airline ticket reissuing.

If only it had been so easy. The woman I spoke to emphasized once again that there was nothing they could do, and that they couldn't reissue a ticket for the same reasons that The Airline could not.

On the verge of a nervous breakdown (there would have been multiple contributing factors, this being the final straw), I called A. I called my parents. I sat at my desk with my head in my hands. "Don't let them push you around. This is unacceptable," my dad declared.

And how right he was. That such an injustice was being inflicted on A, me and my exotic vacation was unthinkable!

So I called The Airline once again. I was connected with a nice old lady - in my mind, I am envisioning a grandmotherly figure, wringing her hands with worry - who was still unable to assist me, for a number of reasons, all of which I had already heard by this point.

I called the travel agency once again and THIS TIME the winds of fate were on my side. At first the kind fellow read in his "records" that I had twice spoken to his counterpart, who had already explained why I could not be helped. But then, for a brief magical moment, his voice faltered. There was a slight pause before he said the words I had been so longing to hear:

Can I put you on hold?

YES, for the love of all things holy, YES!!! I waited for what seemed like days... OK, not really - I did manage to get some work done while listening to canned telephone "island" music. Mr. Helpful soon came back on the line, and said, "I think I can help you out." After my expression of shock and disbelief, he said, "What can I say? I'm the man!"

The man indeed. He simultaneously hooked me up with a free reissued ticket complete with full legal name AND made a certain customer's Friday turn out to be much happier. Or, at the very least, that much less UNhappy.

feeling adventurous...

May 30th is fast approaching, which means that I have a 3-day-weekend to look forward to, as well as a joint bday celebration with A - if things between us continue to be more than amicable...

Since I fail to see any reason why that would not be the case, we are forging ahead with plans to visit Moab, UT! True, the logistics of such an odyssey are unclear as of yet. I am, however, well-armed with a slew of piss-poorly designed tourist websites that I am sure will provide us with adequate info to plan a reasonably exciting five - count it, FIVE - day weekend!!

Our backup plan is to go to a beach somewhere on the Gulf, which has already been done in years past. At this point, any suggestions for alternative vacation destinations are still very welcome. So to all 3 of you, my loyal readers, I say: bring it.

let's rewind

Hello, everyone. It's been a while, I know. Since March, much has happened, so I shall try to summarize briefly.

A & I are currently in a very happy place, albeit ambiguous. Things are just about as great as they were when we first met, but with a little of that "older and wiser" part. His dad is still in the hospital but making tiny steps toward recovery each and every day. A has spent a lot of time in DFW with family, and an increasing amount of time with me as we work towards a happy and healthy new phase of our relationship, or whatever the future holds for us.

I attended my very first horse race! And bet quite well, until I pushed my good luck too far... Us, before said equestrian madness:

I spent lots of quality time with my girl Jess! Lots of laughs & interesting new memories... Too bad the camera wasn't around for each unexpected twist. What we did manage to capture:

I hung out with my new Russian cousins! Excellent opportunity to bond with a couple of truly great kids. I hope I don't corrupt them TOO much - at least not until much later in their young adult lives...

I enjoyed my first tailgating party. It was a fantastic success, complete with oversized TX state flag & massive gluttony. The gang at what turned out to be a blowout Rangers loss:

Just yesterday I fulfilled my role as fuschia-clad bridesmaid in my girlfriend R's beautiful, elegant and perfect wedding. Congrats to the happy couple!

And today I enjoyed the fruits of my labor: a successfully organized Jumbo alumni outing to see the Rangers vs. Red Sox! Sox won - clearly our attendance gave them that extra boost they needed. That and my Manny Ramirez t-shirt.

I know there is much that has been left out, but this will have to suffice for now. Will try to update more frequently in the future, as hectic schedule and extracurricular activities permit.

confusion

After spending a long few days mulling over recent events, it has become clear that I am not only afraid of commitment, but also that I have never really had to confront and deal with that fear before now. It seems that most of the things in my life have just happened naturally. I moved to a new state, I graduated high school, I went to college, I fell in love with a boy, I graduated college and got a job. The boy followed me around and I therefore didn't have to worry about what would happen to us and what to do - he was more than willing to accomodate my life. Now things aren't just falling into place like they used to, and I am struggling to figure everything out.

I am at a point where there is a clear opportunity to make a life-altering decision... I have an idea of where I want things to go, but... How can I be sure?

should i stay or should i go

Earlier this week, I received word from A that he would be in town to be with his family while his dad underwent an unexpected and serious heart surgery. When I first heard, my heart immediately went out to him and his entire family. They have been so important to me for 4 1/2 years, and to not be emotional would have been impossible. I still love A as my best friend - and, at this point, still something much more - and would never want him to go through such an ordeal alone. However, I am no longer the same person that I was in A's life, and I had no clue regarding this family's opinion of me, so the role that I was to play in everything was incredibly unclear. That being the case, I figured I'd leave it up to A to let me know if he needed me.

That lasted about a day and a half, until I was so sick from worry that I was practically puking all over my keyboard at work. I finally text-messaged A, to see how things were going, and he called back immediately, on the verge of tears and unable to talk about what was happening. I explained the situation to my boss and headed to the hospital. I was welcomed by the family with open arms, and have been every time I have visited since then. It is apparent that no one knows how to introduce me to the many family friends that have stopped by to express their support - "Hi, this is H... A's friend." It doesn't really bother me, but every time it is strangely surprising to hear those words come out of their mouths.

Things with A's dad are still quite serious, and there have been many bumps along the road. At the moment, things are looking better than they have in a while, and for that I am grateful. The problem I am having is much less critical as A's dad's medical condition, yet it is quite literally tearing me up inside. All week I have attempted to be with A as his best friend - to listen when he needs to vent, to entertain when he's bored, and to hold him during the hard times. It is nearly impossible for me to do all of this without feeling an intense and deep regret for ending our relationship. Even as I type this, I know that our breakup was for a reason and that reason remains unchanged. But I am having a really hard time finding the balance between ex-girlfriend and best friend.

A has told me repeatedly that if I am uncomfortable with being at the hospital, I can feel free to go. He has also said that he would like me around as much as possible, and that my presence there is immeasurably helpful. To be honest, the only time I am uncomfortable is not when I am there with him and his family, but when A and I are left alone in the waiting room and I have to simultanenously comfort and remain emotionally distanced. I don't think, however, that my discomfort is reason enough not to be there when he needs me. I know him better than anyone in the world, and he knows me equally as well. Denying my friendship at such a trying time would be unthinkable.

But when I finally leave the hospital and get back home, my head swirls with feelings and thoughts that just seem too overwhelming to handle - is he not calling me because something terrible has happened? How will I ever get over him? Is he as confused as I am? What am I doing to myself, to him, to us? The questions come at me with such force and speed that I cannot process through them all, and so I'm perpetually in a state of mental exhaustion and angst. Despite my best attempts to hide my anxieties from A, it has unfortunately already come up on several occasions. I know it's not fair to him, that he has other things to deal with and I am the least of his worries. So I am constantly waging a war with my brain: am I hurting A more than I am helping?

Probably. For now, tonight's plan involves staying at home, taking a break from everything and most likely a little bit of feeling-sorry-for-myselfness. But I guess anything could happen if he calls.

weekend snapshot

back from the dead

I know it's been a while... To make a long story short, A & I broke up 2 weekends ago, and I haven't felt like blogging. Every time I sit down to type up an entry, my mind knows not where to begin.

So I'm hoping that this discombobulated mess of a post will somehow inspire more witty, insightful and/or entertaining entries in the future.

What have I been doing since our breakup? I have been delirious with joy at having received my new computer. I finally attended that Romantic International fondue class at Central Market. I went to an improv show in Sundance Square. I have been getting used to the complexities of my new job, making mistakes and useful alliances, all at the same time. I was the third wheel at a dinner with my friend and her fiance. Me - a third wheel! I went jewelry shopping and then to see the Splendors of the Forbidden City exhibit at the DMA with my mom. I ate dinner with my family. I have started researching the idea of teaching English in Asia. I have thought about going to business school, but still really don't want to go. I invested in a Roth IRA and incurred the highest credit card bill of my life.

I have also spent time with friends, attended happy hours, gone out to bars... and I haven't really had a whole lot of fun doing any of it. It's not un-fun, it's just seems like all of the things I used to do for fun have lost their meaning. And I don't know how to regain happiness. I'm not depressed. I'm not anything, really, but I do know that I am not emotionally well. Our breakup was quite mutual. There was no screaming, no ill-will, no blaming... it even glimmered ever-so-faintly of hope. I think that's why it will be so difficult for me to get over him. How can I put something so positive and enriching as my time with A behind me? Charlotte says that it takes you 1/2 of the length of your relationship to actually get over it.

If there is any truth to that, I have 2.25 years to go.

This weekend I am slated to make an appearance at a good friend's wedding in Toronto. The plan is to look hot, enjoy myself, and meet some new and exciting boys. What I fear will happen is that the only other wedding guest I know will be so busy being a part of the wedding party that I will just melt into the background and have a terrible time, wondering why I went in the first place. What will probably happen? I will have a fairly good time, get moderately drunk, meet some fun people and then go home feeling the same as I did when I headed to Canada in the first place. Which isn't a bad thing... just odd and unsettling.

On a good note, J is in a similar situation, and may soon be rendering me a visit in Cowtown! I wonder if the cowboys could handle two newly-single women?

rush hour, Texas-style

Only in Texas would such events inspire my dad to send me the following email:

Traffic this morning on 35 was all backed up. It was caused by some cattle getting loose between Western Center Blvd. & 35. I got off at Western Center and took my short cut through Old Denton Rd. There I saw 2 police cruisers chasing a black calf. He looked like he was spooked because he was running. Then at the Mark IV & Denton Intersection, I saw a white calf chased by two men on horsebacks. The first one was good. He lassoed the calf with the first try. The second one was not so lucky. While everyone in the traffic was watching, the two guys got down from their horses and wrestled the calf down to the ground. It was better than watching a rodeo. Wish I took some pictures to show you guys. It was MBA!!

Editor's note #1: MBA = Major Bad Ass
Editor's note #2: I WORK AT THE INTERSECTION OF WESTERN CENTER & 35.

poor judgement

So tomorrow is Valentines' Day. Before I met A, it was never really a big day for me. I would write sweet nothings to my girlfriends and perhaps send them a secret Valentine - to be delivered to them in class, of course. Then I met A, and it still didn't seem like a big deal - it was a day of extra obligatory romance, to be sure, but we both knew that we were lucky enough to be able to celebrate in similar fashion any other day of the week if the spirit so moved us... But now that we are in the midst of a month-long sabbatical from our relationship and we "can't" see - or even speak - to each other, February 14th seems to have taken on an entirely new meaning, and I will really miss having the traditional V-day date.

This past week, I contemplated driving the 3 hours to Austin to visit him. It would have been going against the fundamental rules of the break, but I thought it would have been worth it, and I doubt A would have complained. I knew I should probably heed the advice of those of you recommending a continuation of the break, but... it's funny how love does crazy things to you. So the plan was - tentatively - to head out Saturday morning.

But then Friday night happened. I am almost certain that it was fate, as the chances of me enjoying what I believed would be a blissfully perfect pre-V-day weekend were pretty slim. After work on Friday, I went out for a happy hour held at the local BBQ joint in honor of me leaving my old group. (In my book, a free happy hour is always a good thing.) I then proceeded to drink and be merry until 3 am, consequently earning myself my Very First Hangover, complete with all the cranial agony and porcelain-hugging I could handle. When the hell did I lose my tolerance?

So after spending a rainy Saturday recovering from a night of less-than-perfect decision-making, I spent today enjoying the lovely 75 degree, sunshiny weather. Despite my complaints about sucky Texas winters, it sure is nice to be able to wear a t-shirt & shorts in the middle of February! The forecast for Valentines' day? The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Adminstration predicts:

Monday: Sunny, with a high near 80. West wind 5 to 10 mph becoming south.

At least Mother Nature is giving us Texas singletons a break.

midnight musings

When not playing with the new TiVo or lamenting the cancellation of this week's fondue class, I have actually been doing a fairly significant amount of reflection. I've come to terms with my commitment issues that have plagued these past 2 years. And I'm starting to see that what I really want isn't a break or even the company of someone new - I miss being with my boyfriend. But it's as if my fear of "forever" has thus far blinded me to the fact that my relationship was everything that I wanted.

So do I still want the same thing? I'm not sure. For now I think I do. He has proven himself perfect for me in almost every imaginable way. But what if want something different in a year... or 2 or 20? Does everyone else go through this when they are embarking on a potential lifelong partnership? Is it normal to have this much self-doubt? And to what extent should I allow my emotional tumult affect those that I love most?

fondue shmondue

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keeping busy

Not to say that I have been ignoring the obvious issue at hand, but I've found the perfect distraction for when I'm in need of a break. At the moment, I feel more than a bit like Miranda Hobbs. It is my new boyfriend. It doesn't let me down, it does what I ask it to do, and it gives me my space. Although I have to admit that we've been in the honeymoon phase since I bought it on Saturday...

All I know is this: if anyone gets between us, there will be hell to pay.

and on a lighter note...

Proof that Matilda is a fetching machine:

a means to something

We knew that saying goodbye this time around would be different. It was the reason that I held his hand so tightly on the way to Austin, the reason he reciprocated the gesture without saying a word. As always, the banter remained the same - easy, lighthearted, comfortable. But we were both well-aware that it was a facade for the inevitable.

Neither of us planned on having to endure long-distance again. Now that very situation was looming in front of us and it was impossible not to acknowledge its presence. After the new furniture had been built, the old furniture carefully arranged, the clothes hung in closets and the fridge freshly stocked, his family headed home. And there was nothing left for us to do but talk about everything that was wrong with "us."

It was perhaps the most honest conversation I have ever had. I found myself telling him things, and then feeling strangely shocked to discover that I was finally verbalizing the torrent of confused emotions that had been so long ignored. That it has taken this long for me to articulate my feelings towards the man with whom I am supposed to share everything is appalling. It is now my belief that this blog was created, in part, to serve as an outlet for me, to say things that I have felt could not be said to him. Or maybe just to keep something for myself. And I am embarrassed to admit that I am just now putting it all together.

I have commitment problems. It seems so unbelievably obvious now. They started when, over two years ago, he moved to another state to be with me, and have since remained as malignant growths on what was once a blissfully, passionately perfect relationship.

So we are taking a break, to help me "figure out what I want." My life, as of late, has become a series of overused clichés, and I hate it. I suddenly have a lot more time to think, and yet most of today was spent in a mental haze. What if I make the wrong decision? Or worse, what if I make the right one, but it is several years overdue?

The guilt of either choice will almost certainly weigh on me for the rest of my life.

I've got a new job...

And it's about time they told me about it! The offer was finally made to me late this morning - a position in a group that I am hoping is more in line with my career goals, whatever the hell those might be.

There was only real snag of the day, which can be attributed to my piss-poor negotiation skills. When I told my boss about the offer, his response was first to heartily congratulate me, and then to ask, "So, did you negotiate for what you wanted?"

What? I'm allowed to do that at a company by which I am already employed?

I felt like I was in 4th grade again, immediately after I was fooled into trading to my selfish, two-faced "friend" my most prized oily stickers for a single and wretched smiley faced one. WHAT HAD I DONE?

I then realized that I had left a small window of opportunity cracked open by telling my soon-to-be-boss that I would likely have more questions in the days ahead, seeing as I am new to the world of 'promoting from within.' I took some solace in that fact, but nevertheless berated myself for having put absolutely no thought into how I was going to wheedle them for more money, better benefits, or, at the very least, SOMEthing more creative than "sounds great!"

Guess I'll file this one under Lessons Learned.

brown & blue

So I hadn't made an impulse buy in a while... What the hell, I was going to buy it with next month's bonus anyway!

So I'll probably be indisposed for a while. Don't wait up.

New Mexi-mania!

Since it is late and I am tired of having these pictures on my "to-do" list, I am foregoing the traditional artsy cutout hyperlinks to pictures and instead leaving good old-fashioned links. If you have a problem with that, you might want to consider therapy.

pacecar MINI
Rambo in the New Mexican wild
hiking at Carlsbad
psychadelic cavern shot
HUGE ASS margaritas with special "garnish"
4-wheeling in the sand
Roswell UFO museum
who knew Coke gave aliens muscles?
UFO crash site!
dining in Smokey the Bear's hometown
tumbleweed action shot
driving through Jemez pueblo
A, exploring
hurling a child down a mountain in a plastic bucket
tribute to Oppie, from Los Alamos
Cadillac Ranch, in Amarillo

easing into it

Sorry for the recent lack of entries, but since returning from my yet-to-be-recounted voyage across New Mexico, I have been playing catch-up at work (i.e. wrapping up projects that should have been completed by the end of 2004), preparing for an interview I have tomorrow afternoon (!!) and enjoying a relaxing weekend in San Antonio at the home of the parents of my Blockbuster holiday party date.

Anyway, I now owe everyone 2 sets of pictures, and it looks like they will be in descending chronological order. See scintillating sampler of San Antonio pix below:

Oh, and FYI - the word of the week is cocksucker. I leave it up to you to determine whether to use it as a noun, verb or adjective. And, of course, I'd love to hear of any other uses for it that you can conjure up...

back in the saddle

What a great week! I will be posting some pix as soon as I can get a working computer of my own... Hope everyone had a lovely holiday and was able to get a few days off!