Classes have begun.
Mother fucking leaves have started changing colors. (Seriously, what the crap. Last time I checked it was AUGUST and I lived in CT, not VT. Although I do wish it was the other way around.)
It was cold–like I’ll fight you for that snuggie, cold–in my apartment the other night.
It’s happening again.
Me and summer aren’t allowed to see each other anymore. Our parents, Fall and Winter, are making us break up. Given that I’m madly in love with summer, I’m not taking this very lightly.
I am going to miss the shit out of you.
I am going to miss beach days and bar nights, brew fests and vineyards. I am going to miss barbecuing, jet skiing and dancing my hiney off at weddings. I am going to miss Sox games, gay clubs, beer gardens and restaurant patios. I am going to miss wearing sundresses while drinking margaritas, jumping off cliffs, tubing down cold lakes and reading worn paperbacks on docks. I am going to miss canoeing, camping, bike rides and the sun not going down until after 8. Until I see you again next year, I am going to miss the Petit race, mud volleyball and MY BIRTHDAY.
You introduced me to new family, new friends who will hopefully turn into family and forced me to say goodbye to people it was impossible to say goodbye to. You were guitars around campfires, live shows at the Meadows and toasting beers so big you have to use both hands.
And now you’re leaving.
I’ve thought a lot about the pros and cons of being an anonymous blogger. I love the idea of having the freedom to say the things I want to say without worrying if it would affect my relationships or job status. However, after anxiety fueled nail-biting careful consideration, I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to put my name and face out there. Why? I find it scary and at the same time exciting to have to be held accountable for every word I put on this blog. For everyone to know that these thoughts, ideas, jokes, stories, all came from me. Yes, it might get a tad uncomfortable if my dad reads about my sexing and I can’t exactly talk shit about Bob from accounting (don’t worry Apexicans, there is no Bob from accounting), but overall its important for me. For me, being anonymous would be cowardly, a way to hide behind my thoughts instead of owning them. It would be succumbing to my fear of rejection or getting my feelings hurt when someone disagrees or just straight up hates what I have to say.
A few years ago I registered for an online class at the community college I then attended. The class was Psychology of Religion and I was down right stoked. I love psychology! I love learning about religions! This is going to be great! Yeah, no. The first week we had to respond to an article discussing freedom of religion and freedom and speech. The article had a lot to do about hate and although I don’t remember the specifics, I remember my response (a measly paragraph) centering on my idea that if as long as violence and threats are left out, free speech is free speech and people should be allowed to say how they feel, despite whether or not it’s unpleasant to hear. Classmate Ben did not agree. He laid into me hard about how ignorant I was, how I knew nothing about the law and essentially I should be ashamed. Ben was in a word, cruel. I looked back at what I wrote and could honestly find nothing mean or negative about it. I wasn’t calling people out or preaching from my soapbox. I didn’t understand. I cried. I dropped the class. That’s right kids, I ran far, far away from that discussion board and never looked back. I acted like a pussy. Instead of standing up for myself, defending my words, choosing to fight fairly, I ran.
I am not a person who is comfortable with confrontation. I tend to avoid it at all costs. Because I am often far too emotional, I find it hard to sort my thoughts and explain how I am feeling in an articulate manner without letting my emotions get the best of me. I think that opening my blog not only just to the internet, but also to people I know in real life will be a challenge and source of growth for me.
Maybe no one will read my blog, maybe there will be mixed feelings of hatred and love, maybe people will agree with Ben and think I’m a stupid, ignorant bitch, maybe everyone who reads it won’t give a shit big enough either way to care about what I have to say. But whoever does read it, will know these words are mine. And I think that’s important, regardless how difficult it might get for me sometimes. So, in a way, thank you Ben.
Last weekend was the definition of awesomeness. Booze, Friends, Mud. Moz from medical school was home which called for a Friday night fire, an amazing pong/flipcup hybrid drinking game and taking way too many shots of Jameson until the wee hours of the morning. Let’s just say 7:15, when I had 13 people meeting at my house for mud volleyball, came around rather quick. Mud volleyball, my summer soul mate, brought more binge drinking, dirt in every crevice, shouting, singing and being surrounded by the people I love most in the world. Fast forward through a way too short afternoon nap and I am sporting a jester hat and screaming “Ticky Tocky Ticky Tocky Oy Oy Oy!” as liter beers are brought to the table. Sunday, day of rest, obviously finds me at the Northwest Brewfest. Followed by TRUE BLOOD. This weekend was heavenly perfection.
Then Monday decided to bitch slap me.
Friday is taking impossibly long to get here. It’s as if the universe took a lot at the grand slam that was last weekend and decided, alright this girls had enough, lets cut her off at the knees. Work, my car, my schedule, every FUCKING thing has been a complete shit storm since Monday at approximately 8 am. A large, large part of it is quite possibly my fault since I’m not exactly taking good care of myself. MC’s been working pretty much all nights this week which means he doesn’t even get home until midnight. Considering that I have to get up at 7, you’d think that I wouldn’t really wait up, or if I did it would be for a quick night cap. Wrong. I take naps when I can, but generally I just stay up until he gets home so I can hang out with him. If I don’t, I just plain miss him and it fucks with me the following day. So we stay up, booze, watch discovery channel, have sex and stumble into dreamland somewhere around 3. As in 3 am, meaning I’ve been getting around 4 hours of sleep nightly and working long, stressful days. I am usually a night owl as it is, but with everything going on at work lately, the late nights seem to be taking their toll.
And my body currently despises me.
This Friday, hopefully, will bring a much needed restart. A start that will include celebrating a brand spankin new engagement, my first class of the semester, a baby shower for a radiant mommy-to-be and SLEEPING IN WITH MC!
Life, it’s time to get good again.
Six months ago, if you asked me anything about a blog or the blog world, I would have stared at you blankly as if you had just spoken French. Even though I started following a few blogs and visiting tons of others back in May, I’m still pretty much flying blind here with the whole actual designing/writing/commenting thing. I was introduced to blogs when a friend moved down to St. Maarten for medical school, and his girlfriend decided to document their adventures down there. I thought the idea was fantastic and I found myself looking forward to her stories and posts. It seemed like such a fabulous way to live vicariously through other people. So I read her blog and found some others and those led me to some others, and before I knew it, I was looking forward to new posts more than my weekly TV shows (except you, True Blood, you’re still my #1!).
I honestly never even considered starting my own little blogspace. I like to write, but I’m not exceptionally good at it by any means. I was perfectly content just reading other people’s blogs and enjoyed agreeing with, praying for and just plain hating some of the things that people said. I find they help me immensely at times, especially when I don’t know how to put the way I am feeling into words. Reading other people’s views and opinions is fascinating and helps me really identify how I truly feel on issues. Essentially, other people help me know myself better.
But after one particularly long, kind of shitty and super eventful day, I found myself wanting to blog. Wanting to say my piece and put it out there. Use writing as a therapeutic tool and not just something reserved for research papers. This one day was packed with announcements of pregnancies, fights with my best friend, finding out a girl whose been like a sister to me for 12 years is moving 3,000 miles away, work meetings and school payment plans, feelings of failure and a ten minute phone call with my love, MC, that made me remember it was all going to be ok. I felt myself yearning for a better way to process my thoughts. I wanted to express how sad, let down, excited, motivated, tired, anxious, blessed I felt. So, I chose action over contemplation and here we are.
Hello Internet : )