A Lesson

Yesterday was my one year anniversary. You don’t know the expectations I had for yesterday.

I wrote a poem about our last year, and placed it on the first page of a scrapbook I built for Mark. The scrapbook contained milestones of our relationship, broken down by the months. At the end of the scrapbook was a card I wrote for him. A very long card.

Then I purchased a new pair of RayBans for him to replace his scratched pair. And I bought a new dress.

It was Fathers’ Day, so we both had to do our own Fathers’ Day things. I went to my Dad’s at 11 and when I came home around 2, he was just getting ready to head to his Dad’s. Before he left, Mark gave me a card. One of the nicest cards… no, the nicest card he has ever given me. He wrote things he has never said. It was and still is incredibly sweet and romantic. Then I gave him the scrapbook and my card. He was taken aback. He said, “I didn’t expect this… but I should have.”

Mark left for his Dad’s around 4. He came back by 6.

I have been having stomach pains every day for the last week. At first only at night, and in my lower back.. and then gradually they began to worsen. The pains would be gone by morning. On Friday the pain came during the day.  And on Saturday it came early and I had trouble getting the pain to stop. We were googling remedies and didn’t know whether I had kidney stones or cancer or if I was just crying over trapped gas.

On Sunday, as soon as Mark left, the pain started again. By the time Mark returned, I was rotatingbetween  pacing back and forth and sitting in my bed with my butt in the air. At one point Mark was standing behind me, his arms around my waste, jumping me up and down. It seemed movement helped ease the pain, but only momentarily.

It was like going into labor. I was breathing heavily, cramping and sitting in strange positions. By 8:30, I was face down on my bed crying.

Mark never left my side. He sat beside me and rubbed my back for hours. He massaged my neck, and told me not to be sad over our anniversary. We would redo it next week. “What’s important is you right now.”

Eventually we realized we weren’t going to dinner and he ordered Chinese. I tried a few bites and then went back to my bed.

Around 11, I started to feel better. We were going to sleep and something I had noticed earlier was now obviously official; he hadn’t gotten me flowers. He hadn’t gotten me jewlery or made reservations. He got me a card.

I was hurt.

I wondered for a while what to say… and then I realized, I spent the day crying in bed because I had gas. And he took care of me. He made concotions that were supposed to make you feel better, he rubbed my back, he swayed me back and forth when I curled into a ball, he didn’t make fun of me when I ran to the bathroom, he wiped my tears, he hugged me, and at times he simply sat beside me.

His anniversary was spoiled too, but he didn’t seem to mind.

I had to wonder, what type of person am I? Will you be taken care of all day for one of the most painful and embarassing conditions you’ve ever experienced, only to whine about not getting presents? I wasn’t sure why I was being taught this lesson, I’m still not, but I received it loud and clear.

I felt a condition on my heart. A warning saying, “Becareful what you say, and check your motivations”.

I was sad he didn’t even get me flowers, but I received a better gift.  On our anniversary, he had a gentle heart of service and empathy which I needed more than chocolate or roses.

I don’t know how he dropped the ball, but the warning on my heart told me  “Don’t be upset”  and to “Look at what you’re really receiving.”

Around 4 in the morning the pain started again. Mark had to be up at 5:30 and still spent that time holding me and rubbing my back. He even offered to call out of work and take me to the hospital, but I didn’t want to make him do that. He eventually left, very late, after rubbing my back even longer as I writhed.

I didn’t go in to work today, and seeing as this pain is now almost becoming constant, I have a doctor’s appointment with a gastroentologist at Jersey Shore today. And Mark will probably come over later. He will take care of me more. He will love me and rub my back and spend his entire bank of affection on me, which is more priceless than any bracelet and more memorable as well. And as he said, “We have a lifetime of dinners to go to”.

And he’s right.


A Brush with Fame

My blog readership is up 50% for the month and I’ve hardly written anything. Strangers followed me on Twitter from reading my articles online somewhere. I was supposed to be training for a radio interview this week. Here’s the story:

An article I had written was reposted to a few sites, most noteworthy being Yahoo’s Shine. The amount of people reading my articles is more than the amount of people I have ever met, combined with the amount of people I have ever thought of or heard of. I can’t bring myself to say the number, for reasons below. It was exciting. Especially the Yahoo thing. That really hit me.

A Seattle radio morning show contacted the woman I freelance for, asking to interview me about the article. She was to start PR training with me.

Talk of being paid to edit for the site came up. Talk of being pushed forward to write content for larger sites, sites that have their articles published in USA Today and other large print publications came up.

Everything happened within a few days. A week. One week and it looked like everything was happening for me.

It was really scary. Everything happened so quickly, but I felt God tell me to just sit still, and to continue what I was doing. Do not make a move.

I didn’t want to boast, or brag, or feel like this was in anyway a credit to my writing. The idea of giving myself credit made me sick to my stomach. I became incredibly frightened of being anything but humble. I prayed to God, thanking him for this opportunity, all of these opportunities, and I glorified him for it. I told him that I know this is his doing, not mine. He is laying my path out for me, and any blessings that come from it are gifts. I have nothing to do with this. That is how I felt. How I still feel. I never expected this fear of boastfulness, or pride. I saw what that could look like on me and I hated it. I won’t be that.

I told God that if this were to all fall through, I would be grateful for the experience. The feeling of it alone. I believe that either way, it is His will. That is it. Just let your will be done, and help me to hear you to follow it.

The radio station hasn’t, to my knowledge, followed up. The paying for editing isn’t happening. Instead, the editing is used as payment for the expense this company is taking on in order to promote me- whatever that means (I really would be terrible at business).

The payment will come, eventually, maybe, as a result of advertising revenue. It will not be a large sum, but I knew that.

The opportunity of partnership with this larger, more connected website is still in the works. It’s me, this other girl, and the niece of a huge 70’s celebrity (I won’t say who out of fear of anyone ever Googling their way onto this blog). The three of us are being pushed forward, in hopes that the involved companies will make money while we get our names out there. I will have the opportunity to write original content. This is still a great opportunity.

But, that leaves me wondering- what do I want to write about?
First, why do I write? Because I enjoy it. I enjoy writing well, and I enjoy the praise. That is obvious. Writing is an ego booster. Let’s stay real about it. But even if no one ever read my writing, I’d still write. I enjoy it, it is a part of me.

But what do I want to write? If you have the opportunity to write about anything, and that something is going to be read by a lot of people, what do you say?

I thought this was my chance to leave bartending. Maybe it will be eventually, but as of right now, I’m still there every Saturday. And I still have to move, and I was feeling anxious. It took me some time to put my finger on my feelings, but that is what it was. Anxiety over trying to move out with someone who is still in school and has no money. Anxiety over not having much money myself and expecting to spend more on my living expenses in only four months. Fear because if I move too far, for the first time ever, Mark told me that it could affect our relationship. I wasn’t worried about that at all, but his response, as honest as it was, didn’t align with mine. I am grateful for that. With worries and honesty out in the open, I can make a wiser decisions.

Today I prayed while in the car. I feel peace over the situation my future roommate is going to be in. Peace over that, do not worry about her. Leave her be. I feel peace over my finances, God has never let me down. Be wise and don’t be wasteful. It will be okay.

And with writing and bartending: today was not my big break. I so badly want to be in the next chapter of my life, a chapter that doesn’t include two paying jobs and freelancing. I wanted to be past this. But I’m not. Thank God, because that was his plan. Thank God I was not granted what I wanted. This is my path, and it is still a good one. Perhaps a tiring one, perhaps one with a million different steps, but it is the one I’m to be on. And I will always be thankful, as obedient as I can be, and humbled with the knowledge that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

I want to be the person that hands it to God to take, all of it. Whatever it is. Because none of it was mine to begin with.

But I am still excited, and happy. I still have my dreams. I think I am being led in the right direction. I guess I can say, I kind of know where I want to be, but I’m not ready to be there yet, and so I will just enjoy the journey, wherever it puts me.

its time to get out of the desert and into the sun

Crest. Horizon. New Day. These are words I want to refrain from using in the upcoming 2009 blog post.

I hope to recognize myself better sometime in 2010. I still feel like it’s 2008. Where did the last year go?

Have i failed?

The Format’s “On Your Porch” always brings tears to my eyes. It always has. I think it’s the idea of my parent’s recognizing that I try, and the idea that I can never fail to them, and the acknowledgment that it’s been rough.

cause whats left to lose,
i’ve done enough
and if i fail, well then i fail, but i gave it a shot
and these last three years,
i know they’ve been hard
but now its time to get out of the desert and into the sun
even if it’s alone


I hesitate to write things in here at times because I sense that I feel like I get it off my chest, and then I don’t do anything with it. Like this is a vault filled with really good ideas.. if only I ever did anything with them other than jotting them down. But, I am tired of being my own god.

Listen, I do whatever I want and I have some moral gauge but I kind of ignore it constantly. I’m like queen of the moment. It’s getting old. Actually, it’s gotten old. I’m tired of being the ruler of my own life. I’m ready to let God take his position back. With that comes work and it’s that very work that has so often kept me from doing what I know I have to do eventually- give up the reigns and live better. I know the fulfillment you get when you live a life that is designed by God . I feel like selfish reasons guide my interest in getting back to God- I’LL be happier. I’LL be more fulfilled. I’LL skip hell. You know.. that stuff. But the truth is I miss it and it’s a huge part of me and a huge part of why I haven’t been fulfilled in so long. Also, that selflessness I lack comes in time.

The very fact that loneliness is any type of reason behind anything in my life is just proof of where I am and where I should be. I gotta admit I am lonely (boohoo). But the temporary relief I’ve been chasing after no longer relieves much at all. In fact, I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t, because either way I’m not left fulfilled.

I think I’m ready to find the true me. That WOMAN I’ve talked about.. that SOMEDAY WOMAN.. that person I see myself being when I’m “grown up”… well she isn’t going to appear out of nowhere. It’s not like I’ll turn 30 and suddenly be spiritually fulfilled and in tune and on track. My relationship with God is a very special one. We really do have a relationship and the communication has never ceased.. ever. I constantly every day feel Him. His presence is so obvious to me. I always feel it. Unfortunately, lately there hasn’t been much conversation. It’s been more Him whispering to me and me turning my radio up higher, you know?

But for what? Look at me in control here, what has it gotten me? Well, I’m alive and well and I laugh a lot and have fun a lot and my friends are good friends and I enjoy them. But other than that, I am not fulfilled. It’s funny, because I try to find purpose in my day-to-day tasks, yet I have no REAL purpose day to day.

Regardless of whatever that means, I love God and I feel so lucky to know Him. I am ready to let go of my stereotypes and just follow my faith and reconstruct my relationship. I mean all those things I used to hate about Christianity.. those are the flaws of individuals. I can’t judge them for their flaws nor can I allow them to keep me from actually living the life I’m supposed to. If I do that, I’m the sucker. I’m the one suffering.

Faith. The reason I am “lonely” (boohoox2) is because I have lost my faith. I used to never worry about relationships because I just KNEW in time God would bring me to whoever and until then I would just live a good life and do all the other things I want to do. But as I started to compromise myself and stopped cutting things off when God told me to (like I used to do so fervently in the past) I started to lose my belief that it would all work out. Its so foreign to me, to worry. And once I really recognized that I was holding on to whatever I could in order to keep from the realization that I am actually single (this is the first time I’ve felt single in the last 2.5 years) I realized that something has changed in me. And that change is a negative one. So now I’m ready to face my fears sort of speak.

I love life and it is so beautiful. I want to be beautiful again. Washed and clean and anew. You know, the real me. The me that I don’t know but who has been dormant and patiently waiting. Blech, this talk. I know what I’m saying. I dont really have that many regrets, it’s not like I was whoring it up and doing lines off of the bathroom floor at McDonald’s. But there is so much more in store and in the end, I’m just selling myself short. Screw that.

I’m coming back.

There are 3 types of sex:

1) Drunken hookups

  • these are simply inspired by carnal instincts. all you want it so fuck. the person youre actually having sex with doesn’t matter. it could be anyone. There will be no cuddling.

2) Sex With Love

  • This type of sex is the most comfortable. You’re just as comfortable sleeping with them as you are holding their hand. There’s no awkwardness, no worries. Plus, it’s meaningful and filled with (gasp) EMOTION which ladies live on. There will be cuddling afterward.

3) Sex Without Love

  • Sex without love is more than drunken hookups, because there’s a chance you do care about that person. But there’s no actual commitment. There probably won’t be cuddling afterward but there will be conversation before and after (unless you fall asleep). There is a certain level of comfort but it isn’t as strong as when there is love involved. Often, these are fuck buddies. Often, someone catches feelings.

I’ve had all three types of sex, and I have to be honest, sex with love is better than anything else. Because you are appreciated for more than your hips. When in love, sex is an expression of how you feel inside. Without love, sex is just two people trying to get off. And eventually, it gets old if there’s nothing else there.

I don’t miss being in love, but I do miss the intimacy of it.

I wonder what’s next for me, in relation to.. relationships. As in, when will this stop and when will I meet someone I actually commit to. Who will I meet? Right now, life is good. I have a job. Schools back. I get to be intellectually stimulated. Fall is coming, and it’s refreshing. I spend some nights out at Nics, which is fun. But spiritually.. I am exhausted. And floundering.

I know what I want in the long run when it comes to my future.. but the life I’m living isn’t one that deserves such blessings.

Nap time.

Killing Time

I feel like I let myself become cheap. I allowed myself to be used as an emotional safety net. I mean, neither of us are in love with eachother yet I allowed myself to act like there was some reason to still sleep together and there isn’t. I know that.

But its not like a desperate thing, or a holding on to something that isn’t there thing. It’s a… filling a void thing. Because no matter how great life is, and how fulfilled you are in it…after a while there’s moments that slowly creep in and you begin to miss having someone. And the soft stroke of a hand on your back can really distract you sometimes.  But afterwards, youre left just as empty (if not emptier). You do go home alone. You don’t have meaningful conversation. The ties of love that hold up the mattress aren’t there, and without it sex is just sex, and it’s a bad thing. A good beautiful thing turns bad. And it keeps us from actually being some sort of friends, and it causes problems, and fights, and hurt feelings that really have no right to be hurt other than for the fact that two days ago we had slept together. It’s more like a cancer on something we’re trying to make clean after all this time. Seeing as I don’t want to completely fuck my life over by becoming emotionally empty or numbed or hardened, and seeing as I really want to live Gods way and I really want to meet the guy God has for me, I’m okay with it being done. It’ll save me a lot.

This trip, this dreaded scary but wonderfully beautiful trip is a life raft. It’s pulling me out of a flood of bad decisions and bringing me to clarity. It’ll keeping my summer from being a waste. It’s going to show me everything I need to feel in my heart. It’ll replenish me. My writers block has thawed for sure, but it’ll completely melt it away. It’ll distract me. It’ll be an adventure. I’ll have fun. I’ll laugh. I’ll be doing something of SUBSTANCE rather than drinking. I mean, I just need to break out of this mold. don’t we all though?