brooklyn!

finally here. so many decisions still to make. need to find a roommate that i can live with. the thing is that i want to live alone. not with anyone else. but in this city, i can't afford to do so. at all. i'll still look cause it would be ideal but maybe I should be more social and less to myself. after all, i'd like to have friends in the city and get out and enjoy myself after the first year. first year will be studying, sleeping and going to class. probably not much else at all. saving money and looking forward to hopefully working the next year.

decisions, decisions. what part of the city to live in. to attend the summer program or not. to make more money or not. to move now or wait. to go out or stay in.

nora is still adjusting. she's barks at any random noises. it was too quiet where we were last. she'll get used to the sirens again like she did in our old apartment. i miss that apartment. i just want that apartment to be here. and to be near the ocean. one day. one day.

.on.the.cusp.

ah, yes. it's that time. on the cusp. just one night of brief sleep before an early morning flight. flight bringing me closer to the future. steps away from my next move. so many more decisions to make. to work or not to work. where to live. how to live. what to do. so many options. living life. loving life.

.reflection.

I'm super busy these days. I'm not getting to do a lot of the things that I want to do because of it all. I want to go to the beach for a last time here. I want to be in the warm sun. I want to work with the horses. I want to volunteer at the shelter. I want to hang out with my brothers. I want to get time to chill. I want to see my sister for longer than her lunch break or the time I can squeeze into my incredibly busy schedule. I want to shoot the shit with Chelle--which I got to do the other day. I want to laugh with friends and create great memories. Still, I spend most of my time packing and trying to organize it all so that I can get shit shipped to me as I need it. It's so tough to move this way. Last time I move, I got to just throw a bunch of shit into a trailer and haul it away with my own car. I've reduced a lot of the stuff I've had. I get to claim a good amount on taxes next year for Goodwill again. The stress is showing on my face and I don't like that. I've become short with my mother mostly because I am too stubborn to accept any help.

The thing is that the stress doesn't dissipate once I get to NY. If anything, it increases. Half of my shit is there and half is here. I haven't found a place to live yet and you can only crash at a friend's place for a certain amount of time. I've promised them that it will be no longer than two weeks. I even told them that I'd pay them. I must be feeling quite benevolent. Soon, I'll be feeling like a poor, exhausted law student. And to add stress to stress, I am unemployed as of the end of the month. So, basically, I need to find an apartment and a job in the next week. It's really only 4 days too cause there's Memorial Day. Fabulous.

I wish I could be like Carrie from Sex and the City (which, yes, I am thrilled that the movie is coming out. I will be seeing it opening weekend and dragging whoever I may with me. Plus I'll BE in NYC. How fabulous is that?!). I wish that I could write articles in the paper and random articles in random magazines and make enough money to pay the bills. I'm scared right now that I'm headed in the wrong direction. That I'm chasing a dream that's not mine. That I'm not lawyer material. I want to do good. I want to fight for those who need it. I don't want to end up a heartless asshole who hates their job. I guess, I could still end up as a dog trainer. Working in NYC. Learning to be good enough to be called on by the people who can pay me high dollar so that I can make their pooches happier and the owners happier and be able to pay my rent. Which is fucking expensive. And, my god, the scams are RAMPANT in the city. I guess it works for them though. But really, how many people read "well, the problem is that I'm the only one with the keys and I need you to wire me money so that I can send the key to you." Oh, okay. How much do you want? "I would like the first and last months rent and the security deposit. Which is 6,500 bucks." Oh, okay. Here you go.

Seriously? Wow.

So yeah, I'm moving. I'm stressed. I have a jillion different things on my mind. I'm swinging between depression and just being okay with all the other shit going on in my life. I just wish that some people respected what I was going through and didn't demand that everything be about them. I don't have time for drama right now. I'm trying to think positive and hope that I'm moving in the right direction. Part of me can hardly believe that I'm making this step. The other part of me wishes that I would have done this two years ago so that I could go to my college reunion telling everyone that I got my shit together and things are fabulous. When really, I spent the past 4 years doing a job that I have little to no interest in. Alas, I'm moving forward--or something--now.

I got a message from an old friend asking me how many children I had now. I was caught between saying I don't want children so it's not shocking that I don't have any OR saying that I'm too busy for that. Meaning, I am incapable of maintaining a healthy relationship and therefore have no one I could have children with, much less do I have a career at all. I can't plan my life with no way to support it. Now, I'm figuring out a way to support it. Really, I have no clue what there is past this "career move." Three years. Three. I cannot believe I'm committing to that. I hope that I can do it in less time. That is assuming that I even make it past first year. I feel so uncertain about it all. I just need some support. Luckily moving to the city allows me the support of some good friends that I haven't seen in a while. Plus my potential roomie's bf is going to the same law school. Maybe he can help me prepare for my lack of a life for the first year. All of my friends from elsewhere are talking about coming to visit me. They didn't want to come see me in the last city I lived in. :) NYC is fabulous. I look forward to it. Maybe I'll be discovered as a model (lol, hahaha, yeah right) and then I can make great money for a few years and have some old ass producer buy me an apartment in TriBeCa or East Village. Ah, a girl can dream.

Enough babbling. I'm moving. I'm happy and excited and petrified. But I love life and I'm going to "grab the bull by its horns" (as my family might say) and do my best. The thing is that I've said goodbye so many times before. It's a wonder that my friends here keep attending the "she's leaving again" events. I love them for it though. Good times and great oldies. Now, time for the city and looking fabulous. Now, if only I had Carrie's wardrobe....

moving.is.stressful.

The packing and the organizing everything is getting to me. I'm so tired of it all. I want help but I don't because I want to know where everything is. I just want to go to sleep and wake up in my bed in my new New York apartment.

back.to.the.grind.

last week.

This is my last week near family and the few friends that have in my hometown. I have so many things I would like to get done. I just hope that I have time for it all. I need to see some of my girlfriends that I haven't gotten to say goodbye to. I need to organize my life so that I can get things shipped to me once I get settled.

I'll miss getting to see family on a regular basis but I look forward to the new challenges and the fun to be had. Mixed emotions as usual but forging forward.

ah, the games.

Just a little tid bit from wikipedia:

"Passive-aggressive behavior refers to passive, sometimes obstructionist resistance to following authoritative instructions in interpersonal or occupational situations. It can manifest itself as resentment, stubbornness, procrastination, sullenness, or repeated failure to accomplish requested tasks for which one is assumed, often explicitly, to be responsible. It is a defense mechanism and more often than not only partly conscious. For example, people who are passive-aggressive might take so long to get ready for a party they do not wish to attend that the party is nearly over by the time they arrive. Another form of passive-aggressive behavior is leaving notes to avoid face-to-face discussion or confrontation."

I don't think I could be as eloquent as wikipedia without some time and research. Passive-aggressive people are an interesting breed. They might be upset with you but instead of talking to you or confronting you, they just do something indirectly hurtful. The games get really tiring for those of us who don't play such games. I truly do not understand why people don't just grab their cajones and deal with life and its, sometimes, uncomfortable situations. It's so much more mature to just talk about any beef you have with someone. But instead, those passive aggressive just shut you out but really want to be a part of your life. Instead of finding the balance, they play these games. I was told that I was not supposed to speak to a certain person EVER again. Yes, he said ever. Actually, I think he said "never call me again." Same concept though. Then he comes back saying maybe he made a mistake. And that he was upset. Yet, he fails to believe that he might need to sit down with a therapist and hash out these cruel, hurtful, angry, irrational outbursts where he demands such extremes. The severe ups and downs could also be another topic of conversation. He refuses to believe any of that. I can't help him if he doesn't help himself. But alas, it's not my job to take care of everyone. I've done some significant
"taking care of" that typically goes unappreciated. Cause "it's the past." Ah, yes. The past counts for nothing. Except for the fact that it is direct correlation to how we got to where we are now. Details.

Maybe I just care too much. I should let it go. Let it slide off my back. No more shedding tears. No more stressing and worrying. After all, it's not mutual. And I don't care to do what he does--the intentional inflicting of hurt and pure cruelty. After all, no one deserves to be treated that way. Dropped at one moment and then picked back up like I forgotten but cherished toy.

Moving!

Finally, I am taking the next step. I'm moving to a city that I've always wanted to live in. New York City! I'm super excited about the move and super nervous all at the same time. I leave soon. Very soon. Hopefully, my next blog will be from one of the five boroughs.

I start school in the fall and hope to spend the summer making a little cash somewhere fun and hanging out with all the people that I know in the city. It's going to be fabulous. I'll finally feel like Carrie (yes, I did make a Sex and the City reference) and be able to talk about the fabulous-ness of the city. Going out and seeing all kinds of different people. And I'll get to play my favorite game--walking by people and guessing what language they are speaking. Yes, I'm easily amused. :)

I'm excited except when I think about the fact that I don't have a roommate or an apartment. But I hope to find both soon upon my arrival. I have one possibility. She seems like we might just work out. Hopefully, we can agree on a location. For as little space as it takes up, it's not easy to commute long distances across the city. I look forward to having no car and no car insurance payment. It'll all be made up for when I pay my rent though. Nora is going to be a city dog again. She will be a fabulous dog rocking it in the city. I think I'm ready for the challenge. After all, this is what I get up and do. I move. I chase the dream. I keep going. Now I just hope I can make it through first year. If I do well first semester, I'm golden. I may not have any friends, but I'll catch up with them over winter break. I'm so scared to fail. This is the first thing that I have been this nervous about failing. But I'm pushing forward, I'm going to love school and love the pursuit of this dream and hope that it's the right path. If I don't do well first year, I'll officially be a dog trainer and I'll go where ever I must to get certified. There is a dog here at the shelter that I want. She's a poodle mix and super sweet. She has those sad eyes though. Like she's been neglected. It makes me just want to take her home and love her. But alas, I'm moving and I can only take one dog on the plane. :)

Off we go into the wild blue yonder, dreaming big and scared shitless.

ranting.

I should be working right now because I have a lot that I need to complete by tomorrow and I'm a little nervous that I'll run out of time. With that said, I am having a tough time staying on task with work. I want to be frantically looking for apartments (oh, yeah. I'm moving. More about that later.) and trying to find roommates. I've got a good lead on one roommate. It's nice that I have so many friends where I am moving. They have been quite helpful. I would like to be spending some time hanging out with the family more and trying to pack and organize my life. But, in the past week, I have exerted a lot of my energy on the recent "being told to fuck off and never speak to said person again." Let's call him, John. It's a benign name. No one will ever know the true identity.

So, after John's explosive kicking me out of his life on Monday, I literally spent most of Monday crying. I woke up depressed the next morning and just wanted to sleep. Fortunately, I have a contract that pays well that I need to work for to actually make the money. And I have to go to the adoption center. Otherwise, I think I would have stayed in bed on Tuesday. I finally got up and motivated. I ended up speaking to John via instant messaging by the end of the day. It was a brief conversation. Then he left me a message and signed off. I responded to it, again briefly. That response resulted in an actual email from him. And it's been going back and forth since then. And now, as of Wednesday, he wants to make amends and at least be friends that talk every once and a while.

All that's fine and dandy except for the fact that the ping-pong effect is getting to me. It's tough to go through really caring about someone and devoting all of my time to them during a certain point where he needed help. Only to be thrown out of someone's life for seemingly indefinite amount of time. And I understand that everyone has their breaking points. Maybe his breaking point was the actual missing the birthday. In reality, it was compounded with many undiscussed and buried issues. But that action, or lack of action, might have pushed him over the edge. But any true friendship (or relationship) that is devoted to the betterment of it, does not give up so easily. I personally think that it is absolutely ridiculous to tell someone that you are never speaking to them because of something unintentional that they did. John prides himself on being so forgiving of an ex who cheated on him. But, I do not deserve such graciousness. There was one point that John and I were not speaking for a time period of about 3 weeks. He was constantly upset with me and we just fought when we talked. So, I asked for a break from it all and he grudgingly complied. That time was a good break. It seemed that there was a greater appreciation for each other after that.

What I don't understand is that it is okay for him to behave this way. He has these crazy mood swings. Even when we were together, he'd be happy and then pissed at me because of something else I wasn't doing enough. He thinks that after being told to never speak to him again, that I should just go running back to him once he decides that he might have been upset and not meant all the cruel things that he said. I truly don't even understand why he would change his mind because he apparently, thinks very little of me. He thinks that I'm in capable to displaying affection or expressing my love for someone. He makes statements like "that's just not who you are." Oh really? Well, pushing me away is definitely the best way to actually know anything about me and my character. He's been pushing me away by not sharing since the accident. And then getting upset with me when I don't do the right thing. How many times is someone supposed to put themselves back in that situation before enough is enough? I'm upset now and I'm writing this while I'm completely frustrated with the situation. I probably shouldn't but I'm venting. I just don't understand it.

If I physically threw someone out of my house, for example, and then came back two days later and told them that I wanted them to come back. Mind you, this is not the first time this has happened. There's been about 4 other times that I've locked this person out of the house and not let them back in for hours. This time I'd tried to make it permanent. After all, this person doesn't clean up the kitchen and doesn't keep their stuff put away or anything else. This person is imperfect. What I forget is that I'm imperfect and that another issue is that I'm unwilling to change, to give just a bit.

Alas, I understand how we got to this point. As I've said before, the relationship was volatile and tumultuous. There were just 30 days of the honeymoon period. Everything was great then. But I knew, even then that there was a possibility that this could go badly, very badly. Still, there was also the chance that it could be amazing and wonderful and that seemed to be the direction that it was taking. To this day, he fantasizes about getting that honeymoon period back. And that's the only time that I was "perfect". After that, there was nothing that I could do right. I was constantly missing something, not doing something enough. And he didn't back down. It was all my fault. After a while, I got worn down and it gets harder to pick up the pieces and live up to those standards while I'm continuously knocked back down by another complaint about the shit that I should be doing.

This is just my rant. I do not know what it means for the present situation. I'm just tired of being so hurt and then yo-yo-ed back in to the caring part of him.

three strikes.

If 'only life wasn't like baseball. I've finally done it. I've lost a friend and someone that I cared about deeply. They didn't die but they shoved me out of their life. I didn't think that this day would come. I also didn't know the rules of what was an unforgivable sin. But now, I know.

I forgot a birthday. I forgot to call and give birthday wishes. I have forgotten my own family members' birthdays before. They forgave me and we moved on. I feel awful about it but birthdays were never really a big deal. I didn't even get anything from my family for my birthday this year. I don't mind that. Plus things like that mean more on days that it's not expected. (For example, buying a watch for someone and sending it to them just because.) The days get busy and although I plan to call. I get busy and forget. I'm not making excuses. I'm just devastated that it ended on that note. Apparently, during this transition time in my life, I've been a shitty friend. There's probably more complaints out there. This recent one is just a slap in the face. I was told to never call again. And that there was no friendship to be had. When the reality is, that there's no relationship and that's the issue. The issue is that I do not profess my love or tell this person that I care about them enough. Really, I didn't do anything enough. It's not the first time that this has been an issue but apparently, it IS the last.

The thing is that I'm not in a relationship. He's been on dates. He's trying to "move on." And I am trying to figure out my life. To quit the job that I've had for the past 4 years--which I've successfully done. I'm trying to figure out my next step. I can't make anyone do anything for me. Maybe that's part of it. I have little faith in people and so I'm constantly surprised by the little things. He, on the other hand, expects the little things. I, apparently, suck at providing them. I really think though, that I could not have done anything to make him happy. There would always be something else that I failed to do. I've failed for the last time now. I don't think that I've ever had someone tell me that they never want to speak to me again. Now, I have. It breaks my heart that it ended like this. I thought that we could be friends. I definitely had moments of wondering if it would actually work out. But alas, such wonderments are pointless now.

It's very depressing to me. And it comes at an inopportune time. I'm trying to move. I'm trying to find a place to live long distance. I'm stressing out about whether I'll have a job in the next couple of months or enough money to survive law school. I don't even know if law school is the right decision anymore. But I'm pushing forward. Scared shitless. Needing the support of friends and family.

And I've apologize. My apology was flatly rejected. I don't know what else to say. And I guess, there's nothing more to say because he won't speak to me anymore. He succeeded in his goal of hurting me how I hurt him. My hurt wasn't intentional though. I legitimately forgot. I hate myself for forgetting. I thought about it the day before. I even looked for a bouquet of flowers online but I thought he'd think that was lame and he's never home to pick things up anyway. Then I got caught up doing something else and never came back to what I should do. All I had planned was to call. I failed at that. And it's the unforgivable sin to him. It's the deal breaker.

There was a song that made me think of him that I heard the other day. I was going to tell him that but I thought it'd be cheesy. Now, I know that the things that I don't do because I think they'll be cheesy are sometimes the things that I should do. I've failed at many relationships before so maybe it is me. My communication could definitely stand some fine tuning. But we aren't even near each other.

I'm totally devastated. It hurts to have someone that you care about think so little of you. I've only had one other conflict in my life similar to this. Except I never dated that person. It was just another break down of communication. But I've struck out again. Maybe this is another reason I don't like baseball. You get to watch a game where the goal of the opposite team is to get the batter to fail. To get him to fuck up three times. To miss the ball. To not to the right thing at the right time. Sometimes, as the batter, I feel like he just wanted an excuse for me to fail. To see me fail so that he could pull out. Kick me out of the game. Never to have another chance. Either way, he ended it. It's depressing. Over the top, depressing. But my hands are tied. He doesn't care to reason with me. Or speak to me at all. Three strikes (not that I knew about any of them before) and I'm out. I disagree on one point--that it's not worth it. But it doesn't matter. It makes me sick to my stomach but I've struck out.