My husband is awesome.

We’ve been married four years, but I still learn new things about him all the time.

Today I learned that Sean Meadows can give one hell of a speech.

I guess I assumed that because I’m terrible at giving speeches, Sean would be too–that it was just part of our personalities. Even now, I sometimes forget that we are not the same person.

“It’s your turn,” David said. Sean forced his way through the pain of his rental shoes up to the front of the room, where Brooke and David stood with champagne glasses in front of their wedding cake.

“When David turned 30, he told me he wanted to be with someone,” Sean said. “He said he was lonely and unhappy.

“As his friend, I of course had to tell him the truth. ‘You’re not going to get anywhere on that talking to me every night.'”

Sean paused while everyone laughed. Then, “I was wrong,” he said.

“Brooke and David hadn’t met yet, but one day I said, ‘Do you think David and Brooke…?’ And Heather said, ‘No.'” More laughter.

“It didn’t happen until right after Heather and I had a personal tragedy. David came to visit and they finally met.

“They didn’t waste any time.”

Sean’s speech was especially good because it complemented David’s speech quite well. I don’t know if they planned that or not. David mentioned briefly how it happened and spent most of his time (rightly) on his relationship with Brooke; that meant Sean was able to go back and fill in the gaps.

What really impressed me was the fact that Sean didn’t “write” his speech. He thought about what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, and then he went up there with no notes and just told it all conversationally. He never seemed to fumble or forget what he wanted to say, and he paused at just the right times.

There were a couple times when I wasn’t sure if the people in the back could hear him, but that is the only problem I can think of.

I love hearing good public speakers. I never imagined that I’d married one!

(Note: Because he didn’t write his speech out, I had to write it from memory. I’m sure I got the wording wrong here and there. I wish I had managed to get it recorded with my camera, but unfortunately I had to change batteries right when Sean went up to talk ;P)

Another update (I forgot to mention something)

Last night we went to a get-together at Springhouse for all the residents affected by the fire. The firemen came too. Unfortunately, Sean and I didn’t see many people, as the office at Springhouse didn’t inform us of the time of the party until the middle of the day. They called my phone and left voicemail that it was at 6. I don’t get phone service out at work, so I didn’t get the message until 6:10.


Sean, on the other hand, was still at work when I called to tell him about the call. He hurried home and we went over there, arriving about an hour “late”. This after being asked repeatedly to please come because they wanted to do something special. It would have been nice to give the guest of honor (our hero Sean Meadows, who pulled a fire alarm) more warning about the time of the party.

In any event, he got a goofy-looking certificate that said something like “Good Job Award” and we ate some WifeSaver. Mmm, chicken.

We did learn something important, though: apparently it’s so dangerous in the burned-out building that even people whose homes were barely touched aren’t allowed to salvage their perfectly unscathed items. They won’t let anyone go in there. So the chances of our recovering our hard drives just went from “minimal” to “no chance in hell”.


Three reasons to be cheerful

John Kovalic thinks he’s starting a meme. I found it via Wil Wheaton.

Anyway, listing things that make me cheerful would be a nice thing to do right about now, so here I go.

1) Thinking about how the people we love have reacted to our apartment fire. This is the biggest one because it’s at the forefront of my mind. Everyone has been so generous and wonderful. It’s overwhelming and humbling and it just makes me feel so loved.

2) Water. Lakes, streams, creeks, ponds, waterfalls, the ocean…I love water. I’ve said it before a zillion times, and I’ll say it again: water rejuvenates me.

3) Looking at Sean. I love to just watch him. He has the cutest smile ever. I won’t get into the other things I love to watch too specifically, because I’m sure you’re all groaning already, and I don’t want you to have to vomit too. Let’s just leave it at this: my husband is the most attractive man in the world.

There. Hmm, I am feeling pretty cheerful :)

I am a total baby

There was a cockroach in my bathroom.

With a clacking flutter of wings, it darted up my wall as I was finishing washing my face.

I screamed, ran out, and shut the door.

“There’s a cockroach in there!” I told Sean. He just looked at me. “Ew!” I said. But he didn’t move.

I went back to the bedroom and put some pants on (pantsless computing is my thing), and then I put socks and sneakers on because shoes without socks is too naked, and then I crept back out to the main living area and cautiously approached the bathroom door.

Sean was still sitting at his computer. He hadn’t moved. I looked at him, then moved the rug in front of the utility closet with my foot, wondering morbidly if there was an army of cockroaches in that closet. I looked back at Sean. He looked at me.

He obviously wasn’t going to do anything, so I opened the door.

The cockroach was nowhere in sight.

“Where did it go?” I simpered. Sean still didn’t move.

I edged the door open slowly and looked behind it. I looked along the wall. I looked over the floor. Then a sickening thought settled into my stomach and I reached out to the towels hanging on the wall, near where the cockroach had scuttled up.

I knocked the first towel.

Nothing happened.

I knocked the second one.

Hideous clack-flapping was my grisly reward, as the cockroach burst out and slapped onto the floor. I shrieked and ducked out the door.

“Get it,” Sean said.

I reluctantly looked back in to find where the roach had scurried to. And I didn’t see it.

“Where did it go?” I moaned.

“It’s under your foot.”

What? Where?” I backed up. And there it was, zipping at unhuman speeds out of the bathroom and onto the carpet. It nestled itself snugly in the corner.

Predictably, I squealed again.

“Step on it!” Sean said. He was getting impatient. “I don’t have shoes on! Just step on it!” As I raised my shaking foot, he added, “Remember you have to twist, because that carpet’s going to be soft.”

Ewwwwww…” and the toe of my sneaker came down on the cockroach.

“Twist,” Sean said. “Twist.”

I did.

When I finally raised my foot away, Sean said comfortingly, “There you go. Now vacuum him up.”

I did.

I then collected all the garbage in the apartment, because certainly it’s acting as bait for these freaky little assholes. Then I came back to the office and clung to Sean’s shoulder and let out a little whimper.

He just chuckled.

Living up to my name.

Heather fell alseep in my arms many hours ago now. We have the air conditioner going pretty much non-stop, but for some reason or another the house still seems a bit warm. Long story short: I woke up because I was uncomfortable from the heat. She meanwhile is still soundly asleep.

There’s not alot to add from what she already said about the visit. I’ve directed my emotions into the role of Devils’ advocate and the ugly, ugly realist that lurks in corners and dashes hopes. I’d like to think the truth might prepare her for the pain, but I think we all know that’s folly. There’s entirely too much emotion wrapped up in this subject for any acceptance of the truth.

The reality is that she is still menopausal and we’ve seen an overgrowth of the lining. It most conviently explains the “Why now?” question without introducing any miracles or beating incredible odds. The simplest answer is usually the right one.

I am more upset that this aspect of nature had to arrive now. In some way I feel like it’s a very cruel joke. Suddenly after five years a little gremlin of the body has set her up for a painfall fall again. It tossed out a tasty treat that was impossible to ignore.

I ask for Heather to try and ignore those hopes. To accept the painful answer now, but I might as well ask a STOP sign to say GO. She wants a child so badly that it basically haunts her. I don’t know if she’ll ever escape that ghost.

Of course another painful reality is that I can’t make this pain go away. No amount of tears, love, or comfort can make this better and I think that’s what hurts me the most. This is a ghost that tortures us both in different ways.


One of the things FlyLady suggests doing in one’s Evening Routine is “Work on journal/’Ta-Da’ List”. I figured I’d do a smattering of both.

I haven’t written anything in the past few days, not for lack of desire but because I have been simply too busy during the day (either doing things on my to-do list, or thinking about how I should be doing things on my to-do list), and at night I have been exhausted. Thursday, Friday, yesterday, and today, I have gotten up at ~7 am in order to get ready and make Sean’s breakfast for him before he leaves for work. (He ate all the breakfasts except today’s, because he was running late this morning.) Since this is well before the time I would normally get up, it has taken some getting used to. Yesterday I got up at 4 am; muscle soreness was preventing me from sleeping any longer. Because of that I ended up taking an extraordinarily long nap in the afternoon. Still, I was able to make it to bed at a decent hour (around midnight or one, I guess) and then I got up this morning right on time. No naps today, though I did relax in the La-Z-Boy for a bit.

But I feel like I’m getting better! I feel like I’m actually doing something instead of just sitting around all day. I have started writing up brief to-do lists for myself, and accomplishing as many things as possible. Sometimes I’ve had to switch priorities; updates to the family business website have taken precedence over some old data entry tasks, and when my boss emailed me with a menu update today, I penciled that in and got it done right away. In fact, here is everything I accomplished today (the Ta-Da List!):

  1. Successfully followed morning routine (getting up/dressed/ready; cleaning; breakfast)
  2. Dropped off half a year’s worth of aluminum cans at the fire department as a donation to help burn victims (I have been meaning to get those cans out of our outdoor storage space for, well…a year. I’ll get the rest of them tomorrow–they wouldn’t all fit in my car!)
  3. Played tennis for approximately 30 minutes
  4. Watched two DVDs (8 episodes) of Martian Successor Nadesico (hey, I’ve been meaning to do that!)
  5. Fixed a problem on
  6. Updated a menu for 2go-Box
  7. Worked on some birthday club data entry for 2go-Box
  8. Made dinner and managed to keep the counters and sink clear and clean
  9. Ate dinner with Sean at the dining room table (I’ve been trying to do this more; for awhile we’ve just been eating at our computers ^^;;)
  10. Did dishes (dishwasher)

So yeah, I’m feeling pretty good! Tomorrow’s to-do list includes grocery shopping, taking the rest of the recycling over to the fire station, and working on more data entry. I may or may not add in AMRN stuff; it depends on how urgent I feel the matters are. There are a lot of little things in the back of my mind that are bugging me and that I want to get done…and with this system, I feel like I am slowly on my way to doing them. This is great :)

I’m also trying to make sure we take vitamins at breakfast…I think we could both stand to be more healthy.

Thursday and Friday, I got myself in the frame of mind to get up in the morning. I didn’t do it Saturday or Sunday, and Monday I totally slipped up–stayed up too late the night before. But Tuesday I was ready to get back on track, and so not only did I finish my morning routine, but when I took the garbage out I decided to take a fifteen minute walk for exercise.

It was a little chilly out, so after I’d made it most of the way around the apartment complex I decided to use the weight room’s treadmill instead. I obtained a key from the apartment manager, so now I can get in whenever I want, and then I finished up my fifteen minutes. My muscle soreness did end up increasing…but it felt great, really. It’s kind of sad that fifteen minutes of walking seems like a big accomplishment, but that’s just the point I’m at right now. I’m going to get better. I’m going to get awesome :>

I was going to take another walk today, but since Paul and I had previously decided to play tennis on Wednesday and Saturday, I figured that I should keep those appointments instead. It will throw a little variety into my routine, which is always welcome. So Wednesdays and Saturdays will be tennis, and the rest of the week will be walks.

After awhile building up my walking endurance, I’ll add more to my routine, such as the stair climber or the weight machines. I’m also going to start doing kung fu stretching. But it’s going to be incremental. I don’t want to burn myself out early and quit altogether.

I don’t know if I’ll lose any weight doing this, and to be honest that’s not my primary concern. I just want to know that if I needed to, I could run a long distance, or lift something heavy, or do strenuous activities without passing out. I also just want to feel better, and not be as tired as I usually am. Today I feel energized. That’s how I always want to feel :)

Eliminating my back pain would be a plus, but I don’t know if that’s even possible :>

Cory Doctorow’s new book is online, so you know I’ll be reading it. Kevin linked me to Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom awhile back and it was a fantastic read. I haven’t checked out Doctorow’s short stories yet, but I’m sure I’ll get to them. For now, though, Eastern Standard Tribe is on my short list, along with Master and Commander (I’m somewhere in Chapter Four–and yes, if I haven’t mentioned it, I’m reading it because the protagonist’s name is Aubrey) and The Time Traveler’s Wife, which I have yet to crack open.

With that list, I’m making it appear as though I am a voracious reader. However, I have had those two books since Christmas. :> I’d like to get back into my old reading habits, but it’s a struggle, especially since I spend so much time reading online. Online reading is not necessarily a bad thing, but I usually end up reading blogs and entertainment news (and occasionally real news, home and garden tutorials, and self-help articles). I am a websurfer extraordinaire, but I’m not sure if I’m getting enough meaningful input.

Well, that’s about it for me. I’m going to follow FlyLady’s advice for the evening routine and try taking a relaxing bath, and then I’ll putter around online until bedtime. A comfortable end to a lovely, productive day.

"The Plan"; plus, what is friendship?

There are two problems in my life that I think about often. The first is that I overeat. The second is that I don’t write enough. Not anything serious, anyway–the AMRN isn’t going to bring me revenue anytime soon. As I was in the shower just now, thinking about these problems, an idea occurred to me that is uniquely suited to my particular situation.

I have decided that from now on, whenever I eat anything, I will post to this blog. I will include in my post what I ate, and I will also write some anecdote or train of thought. I figure this is as brilliant a solution as I have ever come up with. I imagine that most days I will be too embarrassed to admit eating four scoops of ice cream and a Klondike bar and two hotdogs…knowing that I will have to post what I’m eating for all the world to see will be a great deterrent. Plus, since I’m weak and will probably end up eating regularly–and three times a day at least anyway–this ensures that I will post more frequently to my blog, which will help me get the creative juices flowing. God, what a horrible, cliched metaphor. If I wrote more often, maybe I wouldn’t keep using them :>

So, that’s the plan. We’ll see how it holds up!


Today, I got up at around 2 pm. So far I have consumed:

  • One glass of sugarless raspberry juice (from a mix)
  • One bowl (probably a cup and a half) of Crunch Berries cereal with probably a cup and a half of whole milk

Not too bad a start for the day, but we’ll see how things go. With the way I snack, I may be posting here a zillion times a day…


And now, for the required writing.

I was thinking in the shower about the phrase “squeaky clean”. I learned that being squeaky clean is actually bad from a water tester who went over to J and R’s old house while I was visiting them. He claimed that if you or your dishes or whatever else squeaked after being cleaned, then the soap wasn’t all gone, and that the water therefore needed treatment. This was interesting to hear, but as I’ve never had the experience of not getting all the soap off, it wasn’t vitally necessary to my life.

What did interest me at the time, and still does to this day, was the fact that J invited me over knowing that a guy was coming to do a sales pitch. This seems extraordinarily odd to me. When J invited me over she said something like “We have a guy coming over to talk about our water, but it shouldn’t take long,” or something to that effect. I shrugged and went over there, thinking it wasn’t a big deal. But during the presentation I really felt like I didn’t belong; it was something more for the household, not me. It made me wonder why J  would even think to have someone over during that time…I can’t imagine inviting someone over to watch me talk with the insurance agent, for example.

But J has always been a little strange. I don’t know if she still is, because she lives in Boston and she and I have only communicated through email a handful of times in the last two years or so. But back when we were younger and hanging out together, things were really bizarre…only I was so insecure with my own personality that I didn’t recognize her behavior as odd.

It started the day she asked me to be her best friend. Before that time I simply considered her a good friend; she and K were best friends and had been for years. But apparently she and K had had a falling out, and now J was looking for a replacement. I was ecstatic to be chosen and said yes, thus beginning a friendship that has seen more ups and downs than an elevator. Or something.

One time J came over to my house for a swimming party and immediately asked if she could shave her legs, since she hadn’t done so at home. We let her, but my mother still mentions that and how weird it was. I told J about it some years later and she said she had never done it.

Another time we were having some guys install a new sliding glass door on our deck, and J immediately began talking to them and buddying up with them instead of doing what she was there to do, which was hang out with me. This made me feel weird for two reasons. First, I felt that I was being ignored. Second, I had this impression that you aren’t supposed to engage workers in conversation while they’re on the job. They weren’t there as guests…they were there to install a door. We didn’t know them; there was no reason to form a friendship. I wonder sometimes if this impression is classist or rude, but really, if you’re paying someone by the hour, it’s against your best interest to waste their work time with chatter. I believe J later denied having done this as well.

Then there was the time we took J to the Bluegrass Fair. This was something fun that we did every year as kids; it was a way for us to get out of the house and enjoy something special. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but Mom made sure to see to it that our lives were enriched in as many ways as she could. This was simply one of the fun things she did with us. I was old enough to realize that going to the fair was a special family experience, and I was excited to share that experience with my “best friend”. But once we were inside, J wanted to ride a big roller coaster-type thing that spun in a big circle, and I was too afraid to go on it. She went alone, and befriended the girl she ended up sitting next to. When the two of them got off the ride, J told me that she and the girl were going to go ride some more rides together. So in essence, she dumped me, the person who had brought her, in favor of someone who was more fun.

I guess in some ways I am a stick in the mud, but I don’t know…if you truly consider someone your best friend, do you treat them like that?

Weird stuff like that continued through high school. After we graduated, I went to the University of Alabama in Huntsville, and J went to the University of Louisville. There, she met R, an electrical engineering masters candidate from Pakistan. The two of them were married in January of 1997, mere months after they met.

J did not tell me she was getting married nor ask me to come to her wedding. She explained later that she was afraid all her friends would try to talk her out of it, so she didn’t tell anyone but her immediate family. I told her I understood, but I really didn’t. A true friend would be supportive…and if she really believed she was doing the right thing, no one should be able to just talk her out of it, anyway. This perturbed me, but I tried to get my head around it.

After my first year at UAH, I dropped out. Mechanical engineering was simply not for me. I piddled about at a sucky job for awhile, and then I got cancer. While I was in the hospital, J and R drove down from Louisville to visit me.

I had met R previously. Chris, my boyfriend at the time, and I had gone back to Kentucky during one of the school breaks, and one day we drove up to Louisville to see J and R. I had decided that while R was awkward in some ways, I liked him. J really liked Chris–the guy was into drama and performed loudly in the middle of the park, much to her delight. I, on the other hand, was horribly embarrassed. I wasn’t impressed by his acting and I wanted him to stop making a scene. This should have been a clue to me, I think…but oh well.

In any case, their visit to me in the hospital was short, but much appreciated. It was a wonderful thing for them to do. It was the middle of the school year, after all, and they had to work hard. R was about to get his masters, and J was still working on her degree as well. This is a good memory that I have of J.

After I got well, I enrolled at the University of Kentucky. R had his degree and had gotten a job in Harrodsburg; they bought a house in Nicholasville and J enrolled at UK too. I thought this was great because we were finally close to each other again. I spent a lot of time at their place, studying or watching Indian movies with them or eating dinner or whatever.

J always seemed to make friends with people easily. Looking back on it, though, I’m not sure that “friends” is the proper word. I’m not sure what is though. Her next door neighbor at the house in Nicholasville was a young lesbian who had a troublesome home life. She came over and hung out with us a fair amount, and she and J got along great, but I just felt weird around her. Part of it, I’m sure, was my own fledgling feelings of same-sex attraction…I had actually been attracted to J herself since our sophomore year of high school. But I don’t think that was all. I think the girl just struck me as off, as someone I did not want to be around. My mom has that sort of intuition too, and it has served her well, so I don’t try to ignore those feelings. The main point of all this is that J had no problems befriending practically anyone; she would go into their houses immediately, invite them over to mingle with other friends, and basically let people into her life indiscriminately. Sometimes she would complain to me about people she was friends with who were doing mean things or things she didn’t approve of. This caused me to wonder why exactly she remained friends with them.

At around this time, my relationship with Sean was developing. Sean was–and still is–a very opinionated man, and he sees no reason for people to waste their time on those who are hurtful or uninteresting or anything else that precludes a good time. He actually told me that J was no good for me, that she was using me as an emotional crutch and that I meant nothing to her. I refused to believe him, but the core of his philosophy began to take a deep root in me. Why, after all, should a person feel they have to befriend everyone? You can love everyone in the world without having to put up with their shit every day. I think this branching of opinions was what heralded the beginning of the end of my friendship with J.

One day while she was rushing down the hallway in her home, J brushed up against the corner of her hallway wall and fell, twisting her foot and then sitting on it. This broke her leg down near the ankle and she was bedridden for a week or two, then on crutches. She did her classes correspondence then, I believe, and was essentially unable to go around and enjoy herself. During that time, I only visited her once. While I was there, her mother was also there, and something happened that made me feel really weird. J was whining about how much pain she was in and how horrible her situation was, and she told her mother something like “Well, I wish someone would clean that bathroom.” That wasn’t exactly what she said, but whatever it was, it was an obvious guilt trip. “I’m bedridden and I can’t do anything…why won’t people help me?”

Her mother went and immediately started cleaning. I was thoroughly disgusted by the entire affair. Yes, people can do nice things for people who are sick or injured…but being sick or injured doesn’t give a person the right to make demands like that. I thought back to how I was in the hospital: I tried not to make my visitors feel unwelcome or like they had to do anything for me. It wasn’t their fault I had cancer, and it was good of them to visit at all. I felt that treating them with respect was only polite. Because of the obvious clash in our outlooks on how sick or injured people are to comport themselves, I never went back.

Weeks, maybe months later, J and I got into an argument. I could check my AIM logs to see what it was about–yes, it occurred on AIM; isn’t that ridiculous?–but I don’t really want to. Suffice it to say that she brought up the bit about my not visiting her more than once when her leg was broken. I told her how disagreeable she was being and why that made me not want to come, and she said that that shouldn’t matter, that a true friend would have come anyway, and that she, after all, had visited me all the way from Louisville when I was in the hospital. I replied that a broken leg was hardly the same thing as cancer…to which she spat at me that I was always bringing that up and making myself out to be a victim, and that I had no right to do so.

Our conversation ended with J telling me she hoped I rotted in hell because I was a horrible sinner and a horrible person, and then she told me that it was probably good that this happened because she and R were moving to Boston the following week. She was moving, and she hadn’t even said a word of it to me until that very minute.

I haven’t seen her since, and as I mentioned above, we have only emailed one another a few times. Once she wrote to me to say she hoped I had given up my sinful ways, and that she was sorry for wishing those horrible things on me. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so I wrote back to congratulate her on her new baby, M, who I had learned of through J’s sister L. J replied with questions about my own life, questions that I didn’t want to answer because I had not given up my “sinful ways”, the things she had listed in the first email, and I didn’t want to be lectured about it.

I didn’t answer her message for an entire year.

Then one day I noticed it still sitting in my Inbox, where I leave messages that I’ve yet to reply to, and I decided what the hell. I told her how I was engaged to Sean and how we would be married after I graduated, and I told her how AJ and Faye and Ben and my parents were doing, and I talked about some mutual friends of ours. She wrote back later and was friendly, so I wrote back in a friendly way too. Our correspondence has not been deep or meaningful, but at least it has been…amicable.

Since then J has had another baby. She and R are still living in Boston, as far as I know. J stated in her last message that she has carpal tunnel syndrome, so she can’t write any more letters. I have no idea if this is true or not. Maybe she just wanted to escape the distant familiarity of our exchange. I can’t blame her if that’s the case.

I wish we really had been best friends, but I don’t think we ever were. It’s a relationship I look back on with a great deal of regret. I wish I could think of something I could have done differently, but in the end I believe that we simply weren’t suited to have that level of a relationship. If we’d realized it sooner, we might have saved ourselves years of feelings of betrayal. But I guess people get comfortable and don’t want to change the status quo, even if they’re unhappy with it.

I hope J has a happy life, and that she finds herself a true friend.

Time to ramble

This is my last week of school. Finals week is next week, but I have no finals, only papers. I should be able to get everything done fairly easily. What’s on my mind right now is the short story revision due tomorrow; I haven’t quite started on that yet ;> I had a group presentation today, and that seemed to go pretty well. Other than that, I don’t have anything pressing until next week. I think.

I do need to do some observations of a non-academic teaching English as a second language class…I’m not sure how I’m going to get that done. I went last week with Katie from TESL class, and that sort of went badly. She got really offended about the way the group proctors kept making derogatory jokes. They invoked stereotypes and things like that to get the foreign students to open up. I personally didn’t really see a problem with it; humor is usually the best way to break the ice in a situation. I thought it could have been pretty fun, but Katie was so adamant that it was stupid and degrading that I would have felt like a traitor to stay longer. Well, that, and they were going to a bar, and I’m not really a bar person.

So much of what we believe is based on perception. Katie believed that the students were offended by the proctors’ remarks, whereas I thought they either found them amusing, or didn’t quite understand yet. I definitely felt that an introduction to humor and slang was appropriate and useful for the students…they probably learn quite a bit about conversation from that group. I will have to talk a little about the experience tomorrow–we only stayed for about half an hour, so I hope I’m able to speak authoritatively on the subject somehow. I do think I’ll have at least a few things to say.

My short story, which doesn’t really have a title right now, is pretty good. I actually like it quite a bit, but it does need tweaking. I think I’ll hold off and put the “final version” (or at least, the final class version) on the website. People don’t really need to see the drafts. I may as well take “Mikey” down completely…I’m thoroughly disgusted with that story. It’s a load of crap :>

I seem to write the best stuff about Japan. At least lately. I suppose that’s what’s been on my mind, both subconsciously and consciously. I didn’t do a whole lot of writing about the experience while I was there, or even when I first got back. Things seem to come out better after a little time has gone by. The bad thing about that is that I can forget things…and my notes aren’t all that great :( I do know one thing, though: I love Japan and I want to live there someday.

I sometimes wish I had accomplished more in college. There are people who have done independent research projects, been active in clubs or Greek life, been activists, received scholarships and fellowships, and other things like that. Me, I just plug away at classes, then go home and do my own thing. There is a distinct lack of community there. Part of it is because I don’t live on campus, but even the year I did live on campus, back in Huntsville, I wasn’t extremely active. I was in one club, the American Society of Mechanical Engineers, mainly because I liked the people in the club and had fun hanging out with them. I helped organize stuff, and I even became the Treasurer for the club, but I wasn’t intensely active like other people. I had my own hobbies, and there were times where I would just withdraw into myself.

I’ve always been like that, I suppose. I’m not necessarily a loner, because I love talking to people…but I do like having my own time, too. I don’t mind going to restaurants and movies by myself. I would prefer to have some people to go to the ballet and opera with, but right now everybody’s so broke that I can’t go anyway. Sometimes I feel like I distance myself from people who are near me, developing close bonds only to people online. I guess the online people will always (in general) be around, but the people I know in person won’t. I’ll be moving to Georgia next year, and it seems useless to get attached.

But that is pretty cynical and depressing, too.

And it’s not like I don’t have friends here. I’ve actually gotten pretty close to a woman in my TESL and Semantics classes, Mary. She has a husband named Phillip, two daughters (Lisa and Rebecca) and a son named Don. The girls are out of the house, but Don is 13 and still in school. Mary, Phillip and Don moved to Lexington from Nashville; Mary’s a natural musician and writer. She’s fantastic, really. I went to her house today and had lunch (a taco salad without the shell); it was really good. She also hosted a party last week, which was a blast. I knew most of the people there, and I skunked them at pool :D

So I can’t really say that I’m totally out of the social arena. But there is a feeling of detachment. Often I’m more comfortable on my computer than I am in a group of people.

My most comfortable place, hands down, is with Sean. Whether it be online together, on the phone together, or in person, there is no place I’d rather be. I don’t know, it is just so strange to me sometimes, to have my heart swell up and fill my chest, and this silly smile come on my face. It’s like a definite knowledge, something that no one can take away. He is the man I love. I’m going to marry him and live with him and grow old with him. And this certainty doesn’t make me feel trapped…it’s exciting. Together, we can do anything.

And really, he is the most fantastic man I have ever met. Our relationship is amazing to me sometimes. We are so comfortable with each other that we tease each other mercilessly, but we also comprehend each other on such a deep level that we know when to stop. We support each other, but we respect each other. We know each other. And damned if I’ll ever find someone as uniquely intelligent and intuitive as him. I can tell him everything, even silly things, and he’ll only love me more. I just can’t believe it sometimes. I can’t believe what I’ve found. I, to be cliché, must be the luckiest girl in the world.

I hope everyone feels this way when they find true love :)