Dream Come True

Amazons tomorrow is a huge day!!!  Tomorrow we leave for Portland in anticipation of the 2014 MLS All-Star Match  gegen die Bayern!!!  (Whoops, sorry for slipping into the German mid-sentence).  I'd also like it noted that my boys (read: German National Football Team) won the 2014 World Cup just a few short weeks ago.  It is a gooooood time to be a German fan; a just reward after many years of patience and frustration.

But now on to the looming excitement: TOMORROW!!!  Have I mentioned how lucky I feel to have such an amazing boyfriend in my life?  Because he's the reason I get to have this dream come true.

Rewind: We went down to SD for my birthday (great great vacation for so many reasons) and right before we left he hands me this cardboard box, not quite a foot long, a couple inches across and VERY light.  As in, there-doesn't-seem-to-be-anything-in-this-box-light.  And he says, "Happy Birthday, I got you an empty box."  I jokingly shrug it off but all the while before my birthday he's going on and on about how he really should find something to put in the box.

Him: "Can I put your phone in the box?" Me: "No."
Him: "Can I put an orange in the box?" Me: "No."
Him: "I really need to find something to put in the box." Me: "$%@#$%"

I'll admit he had me a little worried.  The rational part of me kept reminding me that he's a very loving, thoughtful guy and failing to get me a birthday present would be quite incendiary.  But at the same time I thought, "What if he didn't actually get me anything?  Should I mentally start preparing for this?"

So my birthday arrives and I'm sitting on the kitchen counter (yes you read that correctly) while my mom makes breakfast and he hands me the box.  The infamous, light-as-a-feather box.  I should add that I got a card too and it was very sweet.  But now, ON TO THE BOX. I thought I could call his bluff so I say, "Well if there's nothing in it then I can just throw it away, right?  Since it's empty."  Btu damn him and his response, "Yeah you're right, you don't have to open it since there's nothing inside."  CURSE YOU AND YOUR POKER FACE!!! 

But I can't just throw it away so I nervously grab for one of my knives and slit the box open and see that it's stuff with tissue.  Okay, I think, it's not empty empty.  I pull out the tissue on the top and that's when I see it.  The words that momentarily stop my heart.  It's the logo for the MLS All-Star Match:

I look up at him, shocked into silence as he returns my stare with a calm expression as if to say "I wouldn't actually give you an empty box for your birthday, silly."  My mother was equally shocked and I think I was a little shaky after that, simply soaking in the reality of it.

SO FUCKING EXCITED YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW.

Well needless to say I gave him a smooch or two.

So!  Tomorrow we embark around 11:30am and drive southwards towards the Rose City.  I should probably injest some kind of sedative as A) Oregonian drivers send me up a wall and B) I'm going to be so stoked that I'll otherwise be intolerable to anyone stuck in a car with me for 2+ hours.

Then we'll arrive!  Time allowing (traffic gods willing) we'll stop by the swanky hotel and drop stuff off before an early dinner and then IT'S GAME TIME!!!

A most important of the questions is which jersey I should wear.  The most recent one I have, from last season?  Or the snazzy one with the gold stripes from a couple of season ago?  And whichever jersey I don't wear to the game, I'll probably wear on Thursday when we drive back up to Seattle.

As can only be expected, I'm counting down the minutes until we leave tomorrow.

The things for which I am thankful

Thankfulness shouldn't be limited to one day in November.  One should give thanks on any given day, every day for that matter.  (Yes, this is going to be one of those cheesy posts.  But you don't have to read this.  It's my catharsis after all.)

Yesterday was moving day.  It was kind of a big deal for me.  First time living somewhere that wasn't a UW dorm or an apartment in the UDistrict.  Auf Wiedersehen college students!  Moving out of a one bedroom apartment and into a two bedroom apartment in a complex complete with pool and FITNESS CENTER!!!  It took a couple of minutes to walk to the gym this morning and it was magical.  Not to mention the complex is comprised of a wide variety of people including seniors and young families.  It's a nice change of pace after being down the street from the frats.

I'm an eighty-year old in the body of a twenty-something.  SO SUE ME.

The second bedroom means that Mama Moose can visit me once I have it furnished.  And let me tell you, it is really taking all my willpower not to spend my entire being looking at home furnishings online.  I'm totally going into nesting mode.

But now onto the more important part.  The part about being thankful.

Perhaps quantitatively I'm not the luckiest girl in the world but I sure do feel like it.  I have this amazing mother who loves and supports me unconditionally, while still making sure that my head doesn't get too big and who picks me up when I've stumbled.

I can feel safe and secure with my steadfast Rudi at my fingertips. He'll be assuming much more responsibility now that I'll commute to work via car.  I'm sure he'll enjoy revving his engine more in the coming months.

But I cannot begin to think how difficult this move would have been if I hadn't had an amazing guy at my side.  Sure I would have done it; there's no doubt about that.  I am an Amazon after all and I'm pretty capable on my own.  I'm not saying I couldn't have done it; I'm saying it would have been a completely different (and much more unpleasant) experience.  As it was, it took 3 car loads before all of the fragile stuff that the movers didn't take was in my new digs.  And my endurance definitely faltered along the way.  Where would I have been if there hadn't been snark to reinvigorate me?  It certainly would have taken me a lot longer to schlepp everything from the car up the stairs to my third story apartment.  And while maintaining a chipper mood?  If I didn't know it before, I certainly know now that he's a keeper.  But I did already know.

I'm living in an apartment in a different city, with boxes and stuff strewn every which way in every single room.  The routines don't exist yet.  The shortcuts haven't been discovered yet.  But it feels like home because of the person who fell asleep next to me last night.  That is my definition of home.  And for that I am thankful.

Happy Valentine's Day Amazons!

Yes I said it.  Happy V-A-L-E-N-T-I-N-E-S Day.  The commercialization of love is upon us!  Don't let it get you down Amazons.  On all the other days in the year, it doesn't matter if you have someone else in your life, so why should it be different on this day? 

Do Amazons let men into their lives so that they'll have a Valentine? Someone to cook them dinner on February 14.  Someone to buy them flowers and give them kisses.  Is that why you're in a relationship now?  For one day out of the year?  I'm not.

I'm not in it for the day when red and pink hearts pop up all around town, smothering passers-by with sickeningly sweet sentiments.  Don't get me wrong; I don't want to be construed as being bitter. I simply don't believe that any of this is healthy; not for people in relationships and definitely not for people who happen to be single on February 14.

If you need a reason to shower your significant other with love, adorations, etc. then perhaps you're with the wrong person.  Because I speak from experience when I say that I've spent a couple of Valentine's Days with a couple of different boyfriends and being together on that day didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things.

Case in point:  One Valentine's Day my boyfriend-at-the-time came over to my apartment and cooked me a lovely dinner.  He brought me red roses and we had chocolate fondue for dessert.  Wonderful evening.  Two months later, he told me that he didn't feel the relationship was going to go the distance (paraphrasing of course). 

Umm...what?  Excuse me.  That's not how this works.  You see, you were romantic on Valentine's Day, therefore we are bound by the laws of chalk-like candy hearts and all things Dove Chocolate to be together forever.  I. WISH.

When I was younger, and more naive, and less like an Amazon, I used this day as a barometer of the success of my life.  Because we're nothing if no one wants to date us, right?  WRONG.  I finally realized that this year.  And it makes me proud that I see my in-relationship friends and don't think "Goddamn I hate you and your lovey-dovey significant other and aren't you two just the cutest fucking things in the world and I want to barf now."  This year, rather, I think "Good for you!" and continue on with my life.  And when I see my single friends I think "Power to you!"

The next time I'm in a relationship when Valentine's Day rolls around, I hope it will be nice.  Maybe he'll cook me dinner (because cooks are hot) and maybe he'll bring me flowers (because I do like flowers).  But I'd want him to cook me dinner on other days too.  And I'll gladly accept flowers on February 15 and March 3 and November 12.  Because I like flowers on any day of the year. '

That is what I want to convey to Amazons everywhere.  Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go eat some more chocolate.

Feelings almost 6 months later

I came to the realization a week or so ago that it had been 5 months since the break up.  The break up that was preceded by a talk months earlier that set the stage for things to come.  In all honesty, that little chat late one Saturday night was far worse than the actual break up.  I saw the split coming; the writing was on the wall.  The talk.  The talk came at me from way out in left field and bludgeoned my heart to smithereens.

So I realized that it had been 5 months since I sat at Greenlake with my all-of-a-sudden-ex where we bawled our eyes out at the sad reality.  And it was really sad.  It was tragic to think that all of the memories had culminated in the heartbreaking realization that it wasn't going to work out.  Heartbreaking for me at least.  I can't speak for the other party.

But when I realized that it had been 5 months, I got this strange feeling inside of me.  Strange, because it didn't make me sad to think about how that was the last time I was in a relationship.  In fact, it filled me with pride that I had triumphed over that heartbreak.  And that I'm doing okay for myself these days.  I mean I think I speak for all of us when I say, I sure do wish I had a hunky man and sprawling mansion and money piled sky high.  That would be nice.  But here I am with what I've got.  And it's okay.

I've learned a bit more about what I want.  Looking back I can see all the things that didn't work for me; I can recognize what I will and won't choose going forward.  And I won't be naive in thinking that I know someone well after just one year.

I've got new hobbies: I like to go to UW soccer games and cheer rambunctiously.  I like to sit in a park with some lunch and enjoy the quiet, while observing the ducks.  I rekindled my love affair with books and it's getting pretty torrid.  I like to hike and feel the burn in my quads as I venture through nature.

And I can feel pretty pathetic sometimes.  That nasty part of the mind always breaks through now and then.  And when it does, I want to throw all these realizations out the window.  I want to drop the bar to ground level just so that I may have someone to keep me company.  And that's when I tell myself: well, aren't you being a little picky?  A little too picky maybe?  You can't have your cake AND eat it too, you know.

But I can.  And I want to.  And I will.  Because eventually that voice is pushed back into the recesses of my skull and I pick up that bar and I place it back at its appropriate level.  And I vow that certain standards have to be met.  Will be met.  This isn't supposed to be easy.  Nothing worthwhile is easy.  And I take comfort in the fact that stick to these standards.  Because the scared girl from California, that first arrived at UW in the fall of 2009, didn't have those standards.  Didn't respect herself enough to say no to the things that weren't perfect, rather she said yes to everything in the hopes that the loneliness would be chased away.

I hate being single.  I hated from the moment I was dumped by my first boyfriend.  It was an awful abyss and I couldn't escape it fast enough.  Each month that passed me by was a biting reminder that I had yet to find someone who liked me.  It was a measure of how utterly unlikable I was.  Because isn't it?  "If you don't have someone, there must be something wrong with you."  That's what I told myself.  And the mistakes that kind of thinking leads to is evidenced by my relationship history.

I still hate being single.  That will never change.  But what has changed is how I perceive the passing of time.  I almost see it as a badge to display proudly.  "Look at me world!  Look at these standards that I have!  Look at that bar that shall not be lowered.  I will not settle for anything less than my Prince Charming riding up on a dapple grey Percheron to sweep me off my feet and carry me back to our estate in Bavaria!"  Too much? Well you get the idea.  So when the beginning of February rolls around, I can look at my calendar with satisfaction that it's been 6 months and the bar is still in place.

Getting comfortable with reality

The time since my last post has witnessed a lot of change.  Good and...not so good.

• I received a full-time job in the office where I had previously been working part-time.  I'm now a contributing member of society and I've been able to cast aside some of my woes. (Keyword: some, because what's life without a little drama?)

• I bought my first car.  His name is Rudi and he's a silver VW Jetta (aka baby Audi).  He's my main man and I love speeding down the freeway with him.

• I'm once again an Amazon on the prowl.  This is a very mixed bag.

It's been an interesting transition from spring to summer to fall.  People in the know ask how I'm doing, which in itself is an interesting question-

When you ask someone "How are you?" what do you expect to hear?  "I'm good, thanks" or "Well, I've been better."  Do people ask with sincerity or just formality?  I know that I myself am guilty of this.  It's such an automatic exchange of pleasantries that even if I'm feeling down I don't think I'd unleash my melancholia on someone.  This is a sad commentary on society if it's the norm these days.  I want people to tell me if they're having a bad day; let me try and take your mind off things for a brief moment or two.  Oppositely, I'd like to know that someone sincerely wants to know how I'm doing rather than giving me an opportunity to practice my stoicism.

Given this, I try and temper the honesty.  I don't always flash a bright smile and say that everything is dandelions and sunshine.  I'll confess to stumbling a few times.  I'm also guilty of taking a less than desirable situation and turning it into something far worse than the reality at hand.

When I'm reminded of the generous people who surround me, it gets a little brighter.  I believe that's the key.  It's a constant struggle but this was never guaranteed to be easy.  That's what makes Amazons so awesome anyways, right?  Our ability to overcome.


bis bald

Curveball Ahead

Not this most recent weekend, but the weekend before I was blindsided by some news that I was NOT expecting.  And while the immediate shock numbed a lot of it, and it's taken me awhile to process the information, reality is starting to set in and my world has surely been rocked.

The specific details aren't important because anyone can relate to what it feels like to take a curveball head-on and walk away hurting.  Sufficed to say, one of my biggest fears could be coming true again and it's left me feeling vulnerable and weak and inadequate.


And I hate that feeling.


I hate feeling as though I'm crumbling from within.  The gym can only take me so far and then I must rely on my own inner strength to carry me the rest of the journey.  The dread comes not from fearing that this will persist forever, but instead that I don't know how long it will endure.

My Amazon sister gave me some wonderful advice (in poetry form, no less!) today as we were lamenting these latest woes.  I'm happy to say that it lifted my spirits, even if only momentarily, and I was reminded of the incredible strength that we can derive from our closest friends.

Hopefully each and every one of us have at least one or two of these remarkable people in our lives and I can't stress enough how important it is to keep them close.  I rarely cry in front of people (chalk it up to my ego) but I know I can let my guard down with this select few.

Additionally I have learned that there is nothing wrong with admitting pain.  It's taken me a long time to get to this point but I can (somewhat) comfortably admit that "I'm not in a good place" if that's how I happen to be feeling.

I hope this provides you with a small bit of comfort if/when you deal with your own curveball.  By nature we cannot predict them and therefore they usually strike harder than we'd like.  So accept that you've been hit.  Let the sting sink in and spread until your eyes well up with tears.  And then let someone give you a hand back up onto your feet.


I'm not out of the woods yet, perhaps I've only just begun the journey through, but I'll find my way again.


In the meantime, I have to learn how to "take care of me."  I have no idea what that means but everyone keeps telling me to do so.  More to come...