Reminiscing On Places Past

I think you never know how attached you are to a place until you leave it.  The familiarity comes natural, the attachment often quick with roots growing as deep as a tree is high, perhaps even deeper.  I imagine my love affair with certain cities to be so ingrained it surprises some, perhaps like the unsuspecting soul who discovered the never-ending network of roots hiding below the surface of a Shepherd’s Tree in the Kalahari Desert.  Unlikely terrain for such a deep-rooted tree.     

It’s been my experience that you either jive with a city or you don’t.  When you fall in love, you fall hard.  And all you want to do is spend your time getting to know everything about your city because as with all good things, it must come to an end.  The streets become well walked.  Places well remembered.  Names of streets give you comfort because you associate them with places you’ve lived, and it’s those places that have made you the person you’ve become.  They serve as milemarkers.  Winding Creek Road.  Coleman Avenue.  Person Street.  Childhood.  College years.  Present. 

The bittersweet part is that no place ever stays the same and neither do you.  The only way to return is in a dream.  Going back isn’t the same.  Landscapes change, people change, and the bar where everybody knows your name now greets you only with a vaguely familiar nod.  It’s that glimpse of recognition followed by a blank stare.  You knew it would be different going back, but there’s still that pang in your heart and that yearning for what once was.  Everything always seems much more simple in the past.  Easier.  More carefree and less complicated. 

But, you have to remind yourself of the rose-colored glasses your peering through and smile at the past for being there to remind you how far you’ve traveled…         

My Guy

My guy worked incredibly late last night but got up this morning to fill a basket with all sorts of goodies and take me on a picnic.  I love this man more every day. 

He made me a bag lunch with a sweet little note earlier this week.  Left me pretty pink flowers on the kitchen table another day.  And put me on his shoulder every night so I can fall asleep listening to his heart beat. 

Sometimes I feel like I’m playing the lead role in an incredibly sappy romance novel.  I didn’t believe in soulmates until I met this man.  He understands me so completely.   

Les Misérables

For this most dreary of lovers’ days, my beau is taking me to see Les Misérables tonight.  The tickets were tucked inside a love note on my beside table along with a bouquet of dark crimson roses.  He makes my heart feel so incredibly full, like a helium balloon on the brink of breaking.  It’s funny to think I comprehended the facets of love before him.  I like to think we’re all naive before we meet the one.   

It’s cold and gray today.  Quite fitting a date for this weather.  Yet depsite the weather setting the stage for Les Mis this evening, I’m bubbling over about our plans tonight.  There’s a couple reasons, the first being that I think there is nothing more romantic than a mid-week date.  Drop your work, drop your worries, sneak out the door, see a play, stay up late without regard, sip on a glass of wine and fall fast asleep with visions from the night creating a play of your own making across the backdrop of your eyelids. 

Another reason I’m over the moon about tonight?  I’m completely infatuated and utterly enthralled with everything French.  Jeff’s affection is mutual.  It’s difficult not to love their cusine, their stories, their cities…oh their beautiful cities! 

My love affair runs rampant like the Seine.  I’ve had the privilege to travel to Paris once, and it has only made me hungry to return.  Two short days I ran through their fine city, eating salami baguettes, devouring the most decadent pastries and getting lost in their streets.  I became enamored with their city just as I suspected.  And so, while I’m not traveling to Paris tonight, I am walking the streets of France circa 1815 alongside Jean Valjean, Fantine and Cosette.

C’est magnifique!

A Weekend Getaway

It’s no secret I like to plan.  I already started jotting down ideas for Jeff’s birthday and that’s not until June.  It’s fun having little milestones on my calendar.  They beam like gems of light amongst all of my work meetings and to-dos and never-ending list of chores.  It’s especially crucial to plan things in January because let’s face it, the luster of the holidays is long gone, and there’s miles and miles ahead before a sanctioned day off is anywhere in sight. 

I figure the next best thing is to celebrate a holiday (ANY holiday) regardless of whether or not I get the day off, like Valentine’s Day.  I’m already plotting to escape the city and travel with my lover boy to Charleston, South Carolina for a romantic weekend getaway.  Nothing in the world sounds better right now!  (Well, perhaps Paris, but that’s not exactly practical for a weekend retreat.) 

I’ve never been to Charleston so I’d love to hear your suggestions on where to stay and what to do.  If I had an infinite amount of money, I’d put us up at The Restoration on King and book the Simply Say Yes Packagecomplete with a five-course meal prepared by a private chef in our suite, a carriage tour, a hot stone couples massage and a gourmet breakfast.  But let’s get real, homegirl is on a budget and needs something far more reasonable than four (plus) Benjamins a night (gulp!).       

Here Goes…

My mind is working overtime these days.  This is what happens when I start mapping out financial goals and doing other lofty adult-like things.  This may sound silly and come out of left field and be a tad bit crazy, but here goes. 

Lately, I’ve been incessantly deliberating whether or not I want a baby.  I’ve been literally stressing myself out as if I need to make a decision right this very moment. 

There.  I said it.  Now we both can relax. 

It’s not happening anytime soon.  I do know that.  And I know they say some life events can’t be planned like falling in love or partying your ass off so hard you wind up asleep in a bush on Glenwood Avenue, but I’m a planner.  It’s in my blood.  It’s what I do, and it’s why I enjoyed planning every painstaking detail of our wedding. 

I don’t do well with the unknown. 

Most of all, I want to be prepared as best I can.  While that’s certainly not going to be this year or even the next, it’s something I need to consider now so I can be prepared if/when my switched is flipped, and oh my gosh I need a baby right now! 

And I think that’s my answer.

Maybe I want one.  Not right now.  But maybe sometime down the road.  When I get my shit together.  When I learn how to cook something other than a Hot Pocket for dinner.  When I start ironing my clothes on a regular basis.  When I learn to be less selfish.  When I stop buying so many frikin’ clothes.  When I get all the partying out of my system.  When I start working out at the gym instead of doing dance cardio late night at the club (usually on a platform at 606 while drinking champagne like I’m fancy). 

When all these things happen (or who am I kidding, when most of these things happen cause Rome wasn’t built in a day), then I think I’ll be ready for a baby of my very own.  But until then, I’m gonna stop stressing, live life and sock away some pennies for the kid.   

Read my other ramblings about parenthood and babies. 

What’s the rush?

I get somewhat perturbed when people try to rush things.  If there’s anything my mom taught me, it’s not to wish your life away.  Enjoy the here and now, this very moment. 

So I’m going against her wisdom for a moment, because I simply cannot wait for warmer weather.  I thrive in rising temperatures, and it’s pretty much all I know growing up in the south - mild winters and hot summers.  While most fashionistas fawn after fall so they can layer on their look, I very much look forward to rising hemlines, pedicured toes, and longer days.

All I can think about is that one month last year (maybe May) when the weather was so superb it called everyone out of their homes and onto the patio for a brew.  And for a solid month, that’s precisely what Jeff and I did.  

We ate.  We drank.  We were merry.   

Taking Care of Business

There’s no better feeling than crossing things off your to-do list, and 2012 is shaping up to be quite the productive year for me.  I haven’t accomplished anything major, but I’m beginning to feel that fire under me like I had when I was younger, and man does it feel good!  It’s that spark, that motivation, that drive that gets you up and at ‘em in the morning.  I love having a sense of urgency because ultimately, it’s that urgency that gets things accomplished.

I’m probably making this sound more grand when in fact I’m acting like a full-fledged adult for the first time in my life.  It’s the culmination of little things like getting my car inspected and promptly sending for my registration.  Oh and more importantly, I’ve been pretty persistent in getting my last name changed, which has been perhaps the greatest test of my patience in the past five years.  The wait at the Social Security office was as miserable as everyone describes it, and the DMV was just as bad. 

The DMV would have been admittedly less painful if it weren’t for my own slip ups.  I  failed to realize I needed my marriage license and unfortunately for me, I already sent it off with my passport.  You would think the documentation from the Social Security office would suffice since they verified it once already, but no no no.  The passport logic doesn’t work with the DMV people.  After a trip downtown to the Register of Deeds to pay for yet another certified copy and a frantic rush to the bank after the DMV lady asked me to pony up ten bucks in cash and I had none, I’m proud to announce in seven to ten business days I will have a brand new driver’s license and a brand new name.

Now I’m on to tackle the rest of my goals for 2012!  In the meantime, I’m happy to report, I kicked my bad habit of indoor tanning.  I’ve been doing the spray tan thing since mid-last year.  It’s a lot like smoking I imagine.  I still have cravings, but taking care of my skin is way more important cause let’s be honest.  Men age and get more distinguished.  Women age and just look old and haggard.   

New Year

…new last name (finally got around to changing it), new goals (mostly financial - save more, spend less), [re]new[ed] vigor and new commitment to work on friendships and make family a priority.  2012 is shaping up to be a great year!

I haven’t had a lot to say.

…except for the occasional post to say oh this skirt is cute or how do I wear a sequin bandeau top and make it look effortlessly fabulous?

I haven’t felt like writing much lately.  I suppose it’s been a lackluster month.  I’ve had an ominous little cloud following me around ever since I learned two of my dear friends were moving to Texas.  We are soul mates as far a friends go. 

They were that couple who were always up for hanging out, always up for playing board games on a Thursday night and always up for making us belly laugh about the silliest little things.  I’m going to miss them terribly. 

Jeff keeps reminding me that it’s not the end of the world.  He remarked that it’s comforting to know we have good friends sprinkled all over the country.  It’s a nice thought, I suppose. 

For once, when I said we’ll keep in touch, I truly meant it.  They say that people come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.  I like to think this friendship will last much more than a season. 

Reason, Season, or Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you figure out which one it is,
you will know what to do for each person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty;
to provide you with guidance and support;
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend, and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it. It is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

— Unknown

The Ugly

Quarrels are never fun.  In fact, it’s the ugly part of marriage, but in an effort to drop a ray of golden sun on this note, I have to say that disagreements are also the thing that can make your marriage stronger. 

I don’t claim to be an expert at relationships.  I’m barely a year into this, but as corny as it may sound, Jeff is my soul mate, and despite our little spat last night, I believe this to be true with growing certainty. 

The advice I hear most often given to married couples is to never go to bed angry.  I disagree.  Hot-headed words are much more damaging if you ask me.  They last past the I’m sorries and get stored in a pandora box of a compartment only to resurface at another time during a different argument. 

Sometimes I’m not ready to talk rationally before I go to bed and sometimes, although I hate to admit it, the only words I’m interested in speaking are mean ones.  So in that case, I think it is best if I go about the house in a cleaning frenzy while Jeff works on the yard.  Going to our separate corners is better than harsh words or forced apologies.

Now that I’ve cooled off and realized what a handful I can be at times, I have something I want to say:

Hells bells Jeffrey…you know I love you, and I’m sorry for upsetting you.  Can we just kiss and makeup?