Scheduled

I'm settling back down into my old routine.

Today I signed up for classes: Horticulture, Psychology 2, Astronomy, and Health. They don't seem like much, and definitely don't revolve around an obvious focal point, but they satiate the requirements from General Ed and provide me with 13 units that I didn't have before. That makes 28! Only 32 more to go before I can technically transfer. woooohoooo. My boyfriend studied there for four years and realistically assured me that I'll probably be there for about the same time, but I think I can move quicker. If I take another 13 units in the Spring...then I'll only need 19 more. That's about one more full semester and less than half that for the rest. So, two years more. I'll have beat him out by one year ;) From there, who the hell knows, but I'm declaring my major in Psychology because I'm somewhat good at it and it's the one class I aced every test in. That must be a sign right? Getting a Ph.D. in Psych is a whole other story and I'll care to cross that bridge when I get to it. For now, this is what it is. I'll be going to class every day, Tuesdays being "the worst" as I'll be there from 10:30 am- 5:50 p.m.. Booo. To be honest, for registering so late in the game, I'm just glad I got the classes to fulfill some of my general education credits. That means, next semester will consist of math, speech, and perhaps a history class.
I go to college. Cool.
I need a job.

hensen + 66

His hands are bigger than mine. I feel like Jane and Tarzan when they study each other up in the tree. His hand is able to fold over mine and I continue to shrink every time. His three words never meant anything to me because of how early it all is, but the longer our days get, the closer I am to letting them slip from between my pressed lips. I think I feel it, but then I shirk away; afraid that when I say it...that will be it. There's no taking it back, even if the relationship ends, you'll always know that you meant it at some point in time. 

We spend most of the day together and I keep waiting for sudden impact: the moment when I'll feel the need to run as far away from him as possible. We watched the Olympics tonight on the couch. His fingers spreading through my tousled hair, the cat sleeping on my chest, and a feeling of utter comfort and content covering us like a sheet. He makes me feel safe like no one else can. I can feel moments, I can feel angry, happy, sad, annoyed, delighted, playful, childish, sexy, shy, hesitant, and confused. I can feel these things in all their emotional glory. 

I'm waiting for the day when he gets bored with me.

I'm waiting for the day when I have a pregnancy scare

I'm waiting for the day we go on vacation

I'm waiting for the day when I'll hate him

I'm waiting for the day when I'll say three words back and mean them with every ounce of my being.

I'm waiting to regret it all. 

Somehow, all the uncertainties make up this great big blooming bud. We are happy in single moments of time and without over-thinking those moments, we are able to basque in each others' lights. 

Why Does it Cry?

www.thefancy.com 

I feel like I've cried more and been more emotional since I found my boyfriend.

It's only been a little over a week and somehow, the thing that I never wanted (to be owned), is the most important thing for me. I don't want to be disowned by a person who sees me in such bright light that it nearly sets me ablaze. Last night he was pressured into making the decision to either break up with me or to make sure that what he wants with me is serious. This is his career talking. Being a fighter means focus. It means not having distractions with boobs and your sweatshirt on. So, I cried. I cried when he said he didn't know what to do because I didn't know what to do either, and I needed an answer. I promised to walk away the second his career is threatened, and he promised to quit all of that to stay with me (which is ridiculous).
So, we put on happy faces for our team and after they imbibed our beer and ate him out of house and home, him and I laid on the floor and did nothing else. That's when I know.
Now, we're taking one day at a time. No more planning for future events or thinking that all this means we'll be in it for the long-haul, because who the hell knows? Today, I am his girlfriend. Tomorrow I am...

copyright buckscountyfair 

Things are different ladies and gentlemen.

I've made a million decisions, or so it seems, over the time span of my last post alone. Everything feels like puzzle pieces and broken glass. I'm not really sure what's going on and I'm sticking with something that usually frightens me. San Francisco was put on hold by someone I've met, someone who seemed to come along when everything began to feel like a flooding room. I only had so much time to gather my shit and escape before drowning. I'm getting used to the responsibility of belonging to someone else, but I've managed to keep my morals, goals, and characteristics in check and balanced. I'm happy about my decision to stay. All of the things and all of the people I was afraid of leaving/losing are still going to be within reach and now I have someone to fall asleep with when I'm drunk and scared, someone to protect me, someone to kiss, play with, and someone who makes me feel like a fallen angel. I'm happy for now,though, I don't want to look too far ahead into the future in hopes that I'll keep myself from getting any hopes up and getting hurt.

I've not been eating very much at all. Probably rounding about 700-850 calories a day with the exception of yesterday when I allowed myself half of a pizza from his work. I'm not eating because food doesn't present itself in the way it did, and hey, I'm losing weight so there's a plus there. I'm sure I'll go back to eating just fine in the next couple of weeks or whenever I get needy for some junk food like I did last night. Everything is turning out fine for now. I got a new job at a coffee shop which happens to be home to the most delicious chai latte around. It's so amazing, and now I know how to make it! I'm excited to get a regular paycheck again, money is always stressful, but now I'm glad I'll get a little something here and there.

All is well.

drunk

I'm drunk. writing this makes no sense because my fingers are almost too loose to write anything. I'm very drunk and lately that's been good for me. I broke curfew again and woke up in my boyfriend's bed...naked. I had too much to drink and embarrassed us both in front of our boxing team. I ended up being driven home and balling my eyes out because my mom had called and said I was done for. He drove me home and walked me inside. We both got in trouble and as I grasped at his shirt and begged him to stay with me, he used his strength to shut the door on me. I went to my mom's room and broke down and explained between sobs that he was going to leave me for my own benefit because he didn't want to be the reason I got into trouble. I begged her, at three in the morning, to let me get into my car and try to find him.

She let me go.
I found him.

I snatched the keys out of my car and ran up the dark street and into his arms where he told me he wouldn't leave. We sat on the curb as he told me that no one, with a snotty nose, crazy hair, tears, sobs, and inexplicable verbal debate, was like me. I drooled and snotted all over him and yet he held me and told me what I needed to hear. I think perhaps I really am happy. I dove drunk and convinced my very strict mother, to let me chase after someone that I was at first unsure about. I realized I felt differently. He knows what he has to do, but can we do it without each other? no.

I'm so drunk I'm wanting to wake up.

Newness

Why am I awake with something that feels like heartburn, but isn't, and the notion that in three hours I'll have to be up and dressed? The power is out and the fan that keeps me company every night (rain/shine) is of no use to me and that makes my skin hot and my mind worry. I need that soft buzzing noise to lull me to sleep. I packed a bag halfway in the powerless darkness and tried on "on-the-road" outfits to make sure I'd feel as secure as possible at 3am. Someone new will be knocking at my door, someone new with new potential and new awkwardness. I'm excited and ancy and I have a pink Rockstar drink packed in my purse with two "porn star" vodka shots in a zipper pocket. I don't know what I'll do with those, but there they are. I don't know what I'll say in a six hour space of open road and newness at the wheel, but if I didn't put myself in that place then I'd never know anyways, so there's that bit of good news. I'm jittery like a school girl and no amount of corny music can satiate it. He is a monkey wrench in my brain and in my future, but I think probably not knowing is my favorite feeling ever. Wish me luck.

On The Way

Today, i leave. Originally my flight was to leave tomorrow at 10:43am, but although i feel i have a lot of business here, i just can't do much right now. I need to go home, sleep in my bed, figure out if i'll live alone or with another, and realize that this is happening. I feel hope, i feel like everything will fall into place as they usually end up doing in the long-run. I'm sipping on a too-sweet iced chai after a large and in charge breakfast at Ann's Kitchen. Eggs, toast, and potatoes never tasted so delicious. I slept on a sheet in the closet doorway last night. Mostly, i just fidgeted and searched for comfort that never came, but i still felt more at home than i did on that comfy couch in SF. I'll head to the BART station in a couple of hours and hand out my last few resumes on the way. What is it that i'm doing? I'm not entirely sure either.

I Heard it on the BART

For something i was so sure of, it ended up being based off of a memory that had me tangled in its foamy and hazy embrace. I had spent the day lost in the city- i went from plane, to air-BART, to BART, to bus, to bus, to crying in front of a RadioShack in the middle of somewhere i didn't know.if anything, my instincts and rapidly draining phone battery told me that i was screwed. So, i called a cab which drove passed me the first time and when he finally came back for me minutes later, i hated the city- more than anything i hated the people i was going to be living with IN the city. I hated them for abandoning me and not understanding that i had never taken public transportation before in my life/.. EVER, even in small town SC. After sleeping on a couch in the eerily quiet Sunset District, i realized that i couldn't learn to love it because i had already found myself a home away from home... Berkeley. Then, i was on the BART back to that home and all the while i worried that i would take the train too far or it wouldn't stop where i needed to get off. I worried until i observed the girl sitting across from me-she was reading a book with "Berkeley City Library" printed across the top of its pages and i knew i would end up where i needed to be. So, i made the decision to be here as i rode back on that BART, more so, when i rode the escalator up at the downtown Berkeley station. It felt good, and i didn't have to worry about taking the 28 to Quintara and then boarding the 66 and then the 58. I was just here. I could walk pretty much wherever it was i needed to be. The weather was bright and hot. I felt okay for one real time since i've been here. No, my friends weren't there to make everything even better, but i guess that's how i really knew anyway. I can make it if i want to. I'm so excited to be here, to not be so concerned with how far away things are, how crowded, how safe, i can just be here and be happy because i want to.

Right Now

Right now I feel like a bird trapped in someones house. There's light streaming in through the windows, but they are in fact windows, and so I am unable to get out. I feel like money is every-fucking-thing and I'm running out of it faster than I can realize where it's going to. I am here and I am there and then wishing to be back here...or there.
I made my mom cry because I acted different, she said she doesn't love the idea of me moving, but is letting me do it because she wants me to have adventure in my life even if it sets me back in other areas. She wants me to have the life she never did, one where I can be free and loose- able to make decisions which hopefully straighten things out for me. I made her cry because I acted like I was that bird. I was smacking my head against the windows at any cost to just get the fuck out. As she yelled and cried, I booked a flight.

I typed up a resume and printed out thirty.
I got a call from my friend who tried convincing me to stick with the plan. My roommate was in the background reminding him of things to say, things he needed to say to persuade me. I was slightly irked, but it was so good to hear his voice that it didn't matter. I felt like I didn't matter to him at all until he told me "you belong in San Francisco." Berkeley was like acid spit in his mouth and I felt silly and bashful for even considering it. I was out on my porch in the cold listening to the same shit my mom and everyone else has been telling me, but his voice was all I wanted in that moment. I wanted to cry and ask what the fuck I'm doing, what I'm losing is greater, what I'm certain of is little. Nothing is planned, and he told me that there's no way for there to be a plan because I've got to live without one to make one. It makes sense to me, but I can't live where I don't have a place and I can't work where I don't have a job. All I want is a plan and all I have is a plan to make a plan.
"Just stay here, you can't go back"
"you're an adult, you don't have to listen to anyone."
Everything is complicated and I fell in love with two places and I can't seem to get a grip on either. I fell  in love with being away from the place where my life was built upon, where I've always felt so obligated, loved, stuck, angry, happy, blissful, scared, and enchanted by.
I never meant to hurt anyone and in the moment or the time span where everything needs to be about me flying away I am accused of being self-indulgent and selfish. There's nothing I can do to make it okay to my mom or to even make sense of it to myself. I'm up in the air, I'm crashing with wings and I feel utterly helpless to stop it. I see myself, tomorrow, getting off the 28 bus and seeing them and feeling completely wrong. I see myself sitting in an airport alone, landing, and taking the BART to Berkeley and seeing my friends and feeling so right about it. I worry that I'll go to thirty places in SF and get plenty of promising job interviews and going to Berkeley and getting none. I worry that both will hold something for me, but not everything...and I worry that my mom won't stop crying.

Case of the Berks

I got sick from drinking, told secrets, wanted to be fucked by strangers, and had to be carried up the stairs by friends. I ate spicey things, walked in the morning, didn't shower, forgot to brush my teeth, and waited in long lines for sweet treats. Berkeley is "the other man" that stole my heart from San Francisco. I love both cities, but Berkeley holds that inexplicable communal feeling. Everyone is just everyone. We slept on the floor of an overcrowded room for 4.5 nights and drank sickeningly sweet vodka from the bottle. The alcohol purged me of any and all secrets that had been spiraling around inside of me. I had apparently missed someone so much that it became panicking and painful for him to leave my space. I confessed other peoples' love for them and found it hard to leave the pipe alone. I didn't feel anything for once- I didn't feel anything in just the right amount. As uncomfortable as I was at points, I didn't question why I was in Berkeley for no real reason. We had just found ourselves there- packed in the car with a Trader Joe's bag of assorted chips and granola bars. I like the simplicity of Berkeley, how everything seems to be within reach. I have the best friends a girl could ask for.