I'm in LOVE

...with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. Waving the bright red flag of nerd proudly ;)

But seriously, there are VERY few movies that I can sit through and just watch. My anxiety really messes with my attention span; I like having TV on in the background, but it's very difficult for me to sit through a movie, or even an episode of a TV show (though they are easier). I sat through the whole HP 7 Part 2 last night, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I have it on in the background right now... watching the regular version, right after watching it in "Maximum Movie Mode." So yeah, a tiny bit obsessed with this movie X_x

Might as well mention as a bit of a disclaimer to any other crazy HP fans... I know there are some subtle changes from the book, but the really important parts are so beautifully done and it's so visually, emotionally, and overall accurate of the big picture of the story that I can forgive the minor changes ;) I truly think it is a beautiful film that lives up well to the spectacular novel it is based upon :D

Yeah, I'm totally a crazy HP fan. Those books are some of the happiest memories to me, you know? I freaking loved/still love reading the Harry Potter books. I love how they transport the reader into this amazing world of magic... Rowling is a genius! In all cliche-ness, the books are damn enchanting... and I can't help but love the movies as well. I started reading the books when I was only 14 years old; nearly a year and a half later, the first movie came out. It's been amazing, the progression of the books and the films... parasocial interaction big time <3

Oh yes, and... HP 7 Part 2 is even more special to me because it was a surprise that Vuni got for me last night :D We had a blast watching it! Wow, I really feel lucky & loved <3

Grateful

I think I've mentioned this before: my mom is a 2nd grade teacher. I spend a lot of time volunteering in her classroom; I truly love it. I love the kids; they're so cute and sweet. 


Anyways, this week my mom handed out these paper feathers that say "I'm thankful for..." and then have a few blank lines for them to fill in. Before I get sentimental and stuff...


I'm sort of dreading the holidays this year. Honestly, I have a love/hate relationship with the holidays. I love the decorations, the lights, the smells, sounds, ect. but I despise the drama and stress... which, with a big family, there's always more then plenty of that. But I'm really fretting about it this year, because our lack of $$$ means that we don't have money for presents. My mom has been so sweet, telling me repeatedly not to worry, that her and my dad were unable to afford gifts for people the first few years they were together, and that everyone understands... which made me think...



well, I've realized for awhile that I'm in a pretty rough patch in my life. Vuni and I barely, and I mean, barely (with help from our parents) make it. I honestly can't remember the last time I went on a shopping trip to just... shop. I've downgraded on a lot of things (Bare Minerals to cheap makeup) and try to make things last as long as possible. I can't buy something just to buy it. Hell, I can't even buy necessities just to buy them; sometimes it comes down to, do I need the package of toilet paper or the bag of frozen blueberries more? Essentially, we're just scraping by, and it sucks.


But then- I remember: I have a roof over my head. I'm warm. I'm clean. I have clean clothes. I have clean, drinkable water. I have a car to get places. A phone to call people. I have all of the necessities to live comfortably. And really... I have SO MUCH more than that.


I honestly don't know how I was so lucky to end up with Vuni. The past few nights, we have fallen asleep on the couch, our two kitty girls cuddled next to us, while watching TV. And I've been incredibly happy. In fact, I look forward to the evenings when we can just snuggle together. I love that I get to just mush out and relax with this person who knows me better than anyone, who loves me like I never thought I'd be loved, and who still thinks I'm worthwhile and lovable despite all of my flaws and scars. I love living with my best friend. I love falling asleep with my legs tangled in his. I love seeing his smile when he comes home from work. Five and a half years, and he still gives me butterflies...


I wish our situation were better. I wish I were better. Because honestly, I know our situation is my fault... or at least, is because of me, if not my fault.


That being said, it truly has made me realize just how little material things mean. They're nice; I love getting a new outfit, pair of shoes, or even eyeshadow as much as the next girl. But they're just things. Things that I would not trade for Vuni. I guess, what I'm trying to say is- yes, we struggle. No, life is not as comfortable as it could be (and by comfortable, I mean, not worrying about finances so much). But- I have the best friend/lover that I could have ever imagined. He makes me forget that we're just barely making it. He makes me forget that I have an anxiety disorder and am extremely socially awkward. I can be myself around him, more than I can anyone else... no material thing, or things, could ever match that.


So, we may just barely be struggling by... but, when I am nice and warm in bed, with my best friend and our two kitties at our feet, I can gladly say that, yes, I have a LOT to be thankful for.

Midnight Sun: A Parallel

I feel so fucking trapped these days, and it only seems to get worse. Every. Single. Day. It's like I'm stuck in one of those rooms, where there's spikes on the walls, and they keep moving closer together. Or a lava pit in the center. Every single day, I wonder how much longer I can teeter on the edge before I fall into the lava. 



The biggest worry of all, right now, is my relationship with Vuni.


Who's read Midnight Sun? *raises hand guiltily* I'm ashamed to admit that I enjoy the Twilight series... and I've read the partial draft of Midnight Sun (Twilight from Edward's perspective) that Stephenie Meyer posted on her official website. I'm feeling a lot like Edward these days... excessively torn. 

I know I'm causing Vuni a lot of stress. I know I'm the majority of what's holding him back. I'm pretty convinced, although I haven't smoked around him (I almost never smoke anyways) or physically shoved a cigarette and lighter in his face, that I am the reason he started smoking again... after abstaining so well...



As I've said before, I feel like his parents do not think I am good enough for him (at the very least, I've been put on a pretty good guilt trip regarding not having a job by his mom...). Not only that, but recently, I've literally been having nightmares about his mom just up and chewing me out, telling me that I will never be good enough to deserve her amazing son. It's like I can never escape these thoughts of guilt, shame, and feeling worthless... not even in my sleep anymore. Horrifying.

If we didn't have financial issues (due to MY anxiety disorder), mine and Vuni's life together would be pretty darn awesome. Yes, even despite my anxiety disorder. I'm not trying to sound pessimistic, I'm being real: I don't ever remember NOT having extreme anxiety, so it's hard for me to imagine life without it. But I've had other periods of time in my life where I've been relatively happy and comfortable, despite the anxiety disorder. 

Back to my point! If we didn't have financial issues, it'd eliminate A LOT of the problems we're currently dealing with. I haven't had a job in over a year now. Believe me, I feel immensely guilty about this; EXTREMELY. Vuni doesn't even want to think about "moving forward" in life with things going the way they are now.


Which is why I feel so awful... he'd probably be better off without me.


It's painful thinking that, it's painful typing that, it's all-around unfathomable. I'm a selfish, horrible bitch for what I'm doing to him. If I were a better, selfless person, and if I truly loved him, I'd let him get on with his life, without me, the train-wreck, prisoner-to-her-own-mind. 


But I can't.


I know he has the freedom to leave; he himself has told me that he is with me because he loves me. And I'm grateful for this. I'm so thankful that he is able to love the girl behind the anxiety disorder.


Maybe this is why I like the Twilight series. Especially Midnight Sun... Edward disgusted with himself, for being a vampire and feeling undeserving of a human girl's love, but not being able to stay away from her. Not being able to walk away. Edward feeling like Bella is too good for him, and that she deserves so much more. Not having the strength to let go...
... but she loves him. She wants him; she doesn't want him to let go. 


I'm feeling pretty ashamed of myself, being that I'm comparing my life to a damn vampire romance novel, but nonetheless...


I feel very much like Edward. I can't control the fact that I have an anxiety disorder (I sure as hell didn't ask to have one, and wouldn't wish it on ANYONE).  I can control certain aspects of it (major thing I need to work on), but in the mean time, it's wreaking havoc on my life. I'm feeling utterly undeserving of the absolute most amazing person I've ever met... yet for some reason he loves me and wants me. A part of me is telling myself that he would be so much better off without me... but I know I would never have the strength to leave him. Probably because I'm too selfish... maybe because I'm too in love. 


Because I love him more than anything. He's given me strength, when I felt like I couldn't cope. He gives me a reason to keep fighting; even when I feel like it's not worth it. He constantly reminds me that yes, there is a person behind the anxiety disorder, and she is very much worth loving.


The anxiety is my midnight; he is my sun.

"My life was an unending, unchanging midnight... so how was it possible that the sun was rising now, in the middle of my midnight?"  Edward, from Midnight Sun

I'll probably write more about this (the issues between Vuni and I) at a later time, but for now, I'm pretty shocked that I was able to draw these parallels. Maybe I'm crazy. If you're feeling sappy, and are interested, here's the link to Midnight Sun. I like it much better than Twilight ;)

Taking The Bad With The Good

Last weekend Vuni and I went on a short little trip; his ska band had an out-of-town gig that was a 6 hour drive away.


I don't know what's wrong with me, but for as long as I can remember, I have never truly been able to just relax on vacations and getaways, no matter how small they are. I feel riddled with guilt, for some reason; I worry about the kitties back home (I'm lucky enough to say that I've always had a cat in my life ;), but I also worry a lot about money... even if I know that certain money has been saved up/set aside for the trip! Ridiculous.


Anyway, we left town at about 12:30 last Saturday, with the guitarist, drummer, and a bunch of gear in tow. I was determined to learn how to crochet on this little trip. I sat in the passenger's seat with a crochet hook, a tiny pair of scissors, some yarn, a "Crochet for Beginners" book, and Vuni's iPhone so I could watch YouTube how-tos. About an hour before we hit our destination and with aching fingers, I more or less had the gist of it... but I also had to take many photo breaks:

Between crocheting and the breathtaking scenery, it did NOT feel like a 6 hour drive.


We arrived plenty early, so we secured a parking spot at the bar the band's gig was at, then walked downtown to find a place to eat. I wasn't too keen on this. Anyone with an eating disorder can confirm that vacations really agitate the ED... especially if you're really routine driven. Major step out of the comfort zone. But also... I really, really don't like going out to eat as it is. I just feel guilty. 


I would've been content, in all honesty, going to McDonalds. (I love the Southwest Salads, sans chicken and dressing, yum yum!) We instead ending up at a fancy and expensive Italian restaurant... where I ironically ordered a flipping $8 Greek salad. After we left there, we wandered by an Indian cuisine restaurant, and I excitedly exclaimed, "Oh! Too bad we didn't see this place first!"


To which Vuni said, "Why? So you could get a salad at an Indian restaurant?"


This stung a little. I wasn't mad at Vuni, because, well, he spoke the truth. But it reminded me of the reasons why I don't like going out to eat in the first place: 


1.) I'm terrified of ordering anything other than a salad. ED aside, and I'd probably still be too afraid to get anything besides a salad. I like that everything is fresh and uncooked, and I can easily and clearly see everything, unlike a casserole or something... mostly because I've been a vegetarian for a good majority of my life, and I'm paranoid about my food being cooked/prepared with any meat or meat products. 


2.) The fact that I do always get a salad... and when we go to a nice restaurant, it usually is an $8+ meal. For freaking vegetables, sometimes some cheese and/or nuts, and a little dressing. Fuck I feel guilty...


Anyway, we headed back to the bar. Due to a bunch of bullshit band drama caused by ONE band member (mostly stemming from his under [drinking] age girlfriend), they got started an hour behind schedule. This wasn't cool to Vuni and I, who had another 2-2.5 hour drive ahead of us after the show (Vuni wanted to play in a poker tournament the next morning in a town that was 4 hour drive away, so we booked our hotel a city in between).


As I said in my previous post, I was being tortured by the urge to drink. It was a big bar, packed with people, and I felt super lame because this was a 21-and-over show, so I was probably the only person in the crowd not drinking. 


Then, some freaking creep came and stood next to me. I edged away from him, but he moved closer and started talking to me; I could immediately tell he was pretty damn tipsy. He said something like, "Don't move, I wanted to come watch them with you," I gave him a quick half smile but didn't say anything. He tried talking some more, but I could hear him too well because the music was so loud. Finally I heard him ask if I knew the band, to which I proudly said, "yes, the bass player is my boyfriend." He didn't seem to like that- at all. His friendly demeanor changed to sullen, and he went quiet for a few minutes. 


I tried edging away some more, but I really didn't want to move; I was right at the side of the stage, Vuni and I could easily make eye contact, I was close to the door and bouncer, and had easy access to the restrooms. A prime spot to plant myself. The creep kept edging closer to me though. 


I'm not good at dealing with over-friendly, space bubble invading, drunk weirdos. Never have been. This guy was really creeping me out, too. He keep trying to talk to me, and then, started touching me. Putting his arm around me and touching me on the shoulder. I was getting really freaked out, and wanted to escape... but I also didn't want him following me, and I was too chicken to grab the bouncer's attention. I was able to seize my chance when he turned back to the bar to order another beer; I acted like I was heading to the bathroom, then I ducked down behind a crowd of people, and snuck out the door. I moved as fast as I could, went around the side of the bar, and waited a few minutes (with my thumb over the panic button on the car opener) to make sure I wasn't followed. Then I locked myself in the van, and waited until Vuni was finished. Needless to say, he was a little angry about my admirer. I was just creeped out, and happy to be away from him.


Vuni and I departed for our hotel, sans drummer and guitarist (they were staying there, and had other riding arrangements). We figured we'd arrive at our hotel sometime between 1:30-2 am.


We passed through several tunnels on the way there. Funny, we both held our breaths (yes, at ages 24 and 25) to make wishes at the end...

On this drive through the pitch black, listening and singing along to Weird Al (we've been on a major Weird Al kick since seeing him in concert not too long ago), and just enjoying one another's company, I fell in love with Vuni all over again. 


I think maybe that's one of the important things about relationships not being perfect. Vuni and I have lived together for just over a year, and it's been our most difficult (out of 5) yet... but nights like the night of this drive make all of the hardships so worth it. I'm reminded of why we're in love; it's the reward a million times over for making it through the rough times. When we first started dating, and I had admitted to him all of the shit I'd been through and that I still had a long road ahead of me, he told me, "I'll be here for you, sitting in your passenger's seat." I don't mean to sound all sappy, but really, despite all of the crap I've dealt with, and how fucked up many other areas of my life are right now... I have Vuni. I love him SO much, it's unreal. Like, how is it possible to love someone so much that you can't describe it in any measurable quantity? 


And since I'm being sickeningly romantic... I'll throw in a Twilight reference, and say that that drive, that night, had to go on my list of top favorite nights of my life. My heart was just overflowing with exhilarating, overwhelming love for this boy <3 It made dealing with the feelings of wanting to drink and dealing with that idiot at the bar SO worth it... plus there was the anticipation of locking ourselves in our hotel room :D


We arrived at our hotel shortly before 2 am. I swear I live for the loving, sexy, pre-sleep cuddle sessions with Vuni :D Our hotel was amazing, BTW:

To the North... 

To the South

We got ready, got coffee and gas-ola, and headed to the casino for Vuni's tournament. While he was playing, I was working on my crochet, and lo and behold... one of the dealers (I think that's what she was?) helped me out! She corrected my mistakes and answered my concerns... so I can OFFICIALLY say that I know how to crochet now :D

It's amazing all that happened on this short little weekend getaway. It's a reminder that, anxiety disorder or sane (me... and Vuni ;), you have to learn to take the good with the bad; but that being said... "the good" (ahem... GREAT/AMAZING/AWESOME/SPECTACULAR/WONDERFUL) makes the bad all the worthwhile <3

"Yes, you do have a choice; you're just making the right one."

So, the past few days have basically been Hell-in-Em's-head. 


Friday started out shitty; I had to give a presentation on a study I did with one of my professors (Ellie); the last official thing I had to do for school. I know I've already graduated, but I agreed to this presentation when I signed up for the study back in May. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong that morning, did; from realizing that the pages were numbered incorrectly in my report, to the printer not being friendly, to wardrobe crisis, to not finding a parking spot (and thus having to park in a 15 minutes max slot, and pray that I wouldn't get busted by a lot attendant)... add on the fact that I was nervous as all hell. But to my immense surprise, once I got up to the podium and started presenting, it all went smooth. I just kept telling myself... you do NOT want to disappoint Ellie. That thought got me through it, and I did great; I actually amazed myself. I left the college feeling wonderful to finally be 100% finished, and to have rocked my presentation. I was happy, and felt a sense of relief.


Too bad it was so short lived.


Three hours later, I was at home, anticipating the little weekend getaway we had planned (Vuni's band playing out of town again), when the mail arrived: a single, fat envelope from Social Security. I hesitated, knowing very likely that their could be bad news in that envelope... and there was. A big, bold DENIED. My disability claim... denied. And even worse? My therapist never submitted her paperwork. I know she got it; I talked to her about it. So either she dropped the ball, or someone's lying about having not received it... which they could be. The letter also stated that they never received a report from my mom, however, she never got any paper work to fill out in the first place. Bottom line is, I'm for sure going to appeal it.


But in the mean time, this leaves me with more anxiety and desperation than ever. I was hoping, with school finally finished for me, that I could at least enjoy the weekend with Vuni... but fucking no. I get the denial letter in the mail. What the fuck? I spent Friday evening filling out two long ass online job applications (one for a school lunch lady... one for a dishwasher in a hospital cafeteria. Real glamourous; but shit, I'll take those over customer service any day). 


I decided not to tell my parents about the denial right away, because even though I already felt awful about it, I figured waiting and at least trying to semi-enjoy the weekend, with keeping the news to just Vuni and I, would help a little. 


Saturday night was Vuni's band's show. I really, REALLY wanted to drink. Or smoke. The denial letter was eating me away from the inside; I could have used going numb. But I can't be drinking. And as for smoking... well, I'm not worried about becoming addicted to it. I never have; the smell is too freaking nasty for me to tolerate. I smoke every now and then when I'm stressed, but it's never been an issue. I wanted a cigarette on Saturday night, before the show, when we were standing outside and everyone was smoking. HOWEVER- Vuni has been trying to quit. He's actually gone 3 weeks so far without one. Part of my mind (the bitchy part) was telling me, well, Vuni doesn't care about your drinking issues, he always drinks in front of you, so why should you be considerate to him? Because, if he were to smoke since I was doing it... I'd feel responsible. I'd feel like I was the one who threw him off of the wagon, regardless of reality. So no smoking. 


I plan on doing a separate post on our little trip, but I have to throw this in: not only was I wanting to numb by drinking... I was nervous as shit being in a bar, in a different city, not knowing anyone but the people on stage performing... I  felt extremely awkward and anxious. Some drunk asshole just had to come along and start hassling me. Awful. I'll elaborate on that in my trip post, but just know, he ruined the little bit of fun I was trying to have; I ended up "escaping" to the car.

The thought of cuddling with Vuni in the hotel room later was the only thing that kept me sane on Saturday night...


Clearly, this was not my weekend. I'm amazed that I didn't fall apart, or just snap... I honestly thought, when sending out all of my disability paperwork, that if I got a denial letter, I'd lose it. It would be THE END. I'm not sure what I thought I'd do, but I didn't think I'd just be able to...  cope with it.


But the worst was yet to come.


Since we were gone all weekend, Vuni and I decided to go to his parent's house yesterday evening to do some laundry. I always feel slightly awkward going to his parent's house. I don't feel like I am good enough for them, especially these days. They're almost too "perfect," and in very subtle ways, they make it clear that I'm not living up to their idea of perfection. I've ranted about it before. So why I was expecting things to go smoothly last night is beyond me.


Vuni's mom put me on one of the worst fucking guilt trips of my entire life...


Vun had already gone downstairs to watch TV, so I was alone with MIL in the kitchen, still trying to eat dinner and arguing with myself that it was okay to be eating... okay that I was getting seconds of salad and cooked spinach (aren't ED voices just a treat? FML). With feeling ultra imperfect and trying to be comfortable eating, plus the crappy events of the past few days, I was already in a very vulnerable spot. 


She began very slowly, by suggesting different things I should be doing. As in, trying to find a job type things. Suggesting I try this, suggesting I try that. Asking why I don't try to apply to Clear Channel, or one of the TV stations? Well, I've told her why before: most broadcasting companies, whether it's TV or radio, will not even consider you unless you've interned with them, or have years of experience. I know, because I've had classmates go into both. I re-explained this to her, to which she replied, "well, is it to late for you to do an internship?" I told her it most likely was, considering I've already graduated, and if I did by some chance get one, it'd be for little to no pay. "Well, why should that matter? You're not bringing in any money anyways, and you have the time to do it." She should have just slapped me; it would've been less painful.


It matters because I do not want to do either, so why the fuck should I waste my time?


"I know the economy's bad, but with you not having a job, it must just be so stressful for you guys," 


Okay, Captain Obvious, thanks. You know what? I know you guys don't exactly like me (right now at least); I realize I'm not good enough for your precious boy. I know that you want a perfect, preppy, athletic little white girl who just graduated from med school or something for your son. But you know what? For whatever reason, he wants ME. He loves ME. He sees beyond the mess and anxiety, and sees a person, a person that he obviously loves very, very much. Do you not think I feel guilty every single fucking day? Do you think I don't question, constantly, whether I really do deserve your son's love? And do you think that I'm totally unaware of what you guys think of me? I have an anxiety disorder; I'm not fucking stupid. I'm sorry I'm tainting your perfect lives; I'm sorry you don't think I'm good enough for your son. God fucking damn.


I suddenly couldn't finish eating. I dumped the rest of my food out, and tried to decide what to do. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to want to grab a knife from the drawer, lock myself in the bathroom, and start cutting. I wanted to HURT physically. I wanted to freaking peel my skin off; to scratch myself until I bled, couldn't feel any pain but burning. I thought about running away, but to where, I don't know. Going to Walmart and getting a giant bottle of Tylenol PM VERY briefly crossed my mind; I can't imagine my life without Vuni, but yet I hate myself for being such an apparent burden to him (at least that's what I'm getting from his mom). 


No, no, no. I have nowhere to run. If I were to cut myself, I'd merely be left with scars reminding me of how horrible I felt last night. And suicide... it's just never an option. NEVER. It may be tempting when everything feels so hopeless, but I've learned that hopelessness isn't forever; and I don't want to die, I want things to fucking change. So what did I do? I text my mom, asking her for a picture of Penny (my little fur sister). She sent one a few minutes later, and I replied with "Thanks, I needed that, I've just been put on the biggest guilt trip of my life." She asked by who...


So I walked out the back door, with Vuni completely oblivious, and called her. I started walking down the street, and told her what happened. The tears finally fell. I also admitted that my claim had been denied, to which she replied, "Wow. I'm so proud of you... I never would have known, you're handling it so well." I told her how tempted I was to drink, to smoke, to cut... anything for release, but I also said I know that it won't do anything but set me back. I told her I feel like I'm suffocating, because I so badly WANT to temporarily numb myself by some bad behavior, but I'm tortured by the thoughts of how much it'd hurt her, my dad, and Vuni if I did so... which keeps me from doing it. I told her, "It's so hard, to not do these things, to just keep getting bad news, to feel this way... and to stay strong. But I'm at the point where I don't have a choice; I don't have a choice but to be strong."


to which she replied, "Yes, you do have a choice; you're just making the right one."


Up until this point, I didn't think of it that way; I just keep telling myself, if I don't be strong, I'm going to lose it all. While that may be true, it's also true that I am very much making a choice- and it is the right one. Sure, I still fuck up, and OBVIOUSLY have a lot of major issues that I need to work through- and I'm more than likely ALWAYS going to deal with the anxiety... but I'm finally making right choices? And moreso, choices that not only I'm aware of, but someone else is too?


Maybe not everyone feels I'm good enough; maybe not everyone sees progress. But it's good to know that one of the most important people to me sees it; and that it's not all just in my head... it may be small, but I AM making progress. 


...maybe one day I'll be enough.


P.S. I know I sound extremely frustrated towards my (most-likely) in-laws; this does NOT mean that I do not love them, or appreciate anything they've done for me. I also realize I've made some fucked up mistakes in the past, and that they have a right to have been angry with me at those times; but my anxiety disorder isn't one of those things. It's not something I chose, it was something I was born with. Although I can understand being frustrated (because believe me, I'm fucking frustrated with my own disorder), I just wish that they could try to be more understanding/supportive... gah, nothing in life is ever simple, is it?

Celebrating An Outstanding Man :)

Today was a bittersweet day that *should* have been just sweet. Today is my dad's birthday... last year of his 40s ;)


My dad was only 23 years old when I was born, and had been married for over 2 years. I'm trying to fathom that. I know that there are plenty of people that age and younger, getting married and having kids, but it's different when you're thinking about your parents I guess. It's hard to imagine my dad, younger than I am now, celebrating his 24th birthday with 2 month old me; I'd have a 16 month old right now, had I had a child at his age when I was born! Incredible!


I admire my dad so much... for both the person and father that he is. I couldn't imagine a better dad; he isn't perfect, of course, BUT- what's important is, he's loved myself, my brother, and my mom unconditionally, and that's a "perfect" father to me. He's sacrificed so much for us. He's put up with SO MUCH bullshit... and never given up on any of us. He never asks for much... a good part of why today was bittersweet. I couldn't afford to buy him a birthday present :( Vuni ordered him something, and I am grateful we will be able to give him a small present here in a few days, but...


...it makes me so sad that I couldn't spoil him and shower him in gifts, like I should have been able to. It reminds me even moreso of where I am in life. I feel broken. Unsuccessful. A major fuck-up. And it breaks me... because I'm one of the things that makes my dad happiest. I can't help but worry that I'm making him sad, however, because of how screwed up I am. He knows how hard I'm trying; and he's told me more than once that I'm one of the strongest people he's ever known, but what do I have to show for it? I still depend on him and my mom in so many ways: financially, emotionally, medically... and I shouldn't. I want to make him proud so badly, but more than just proud, I want him to be reassured. Reassured that I can and WILL make it. 


I suppose this is one of those things that is giving me strength right now. I keep telling Vuni, "one of these days, I'm going to crack; I can't take more bad news, I can't take more shit going wrong, if something doesn't change, I'm going to fucking snap and do something stupid."


But I haven't yet. Somehow, every single time I have a panic attack, every time I melt down and become hysterical, and get tempted to do something like punch the wall or self-harm, at the last minute, I stop and rationalize. It takes everything I have... and my dad is one of those things. He, my mom, Vuni, my brother, the pets... I think of them. How desperately I want to be strong for them; how much more I'd hate myself if I keep hurting them. THAT is what keeps me grounded... that's what gives me the power to keep going, even when I'm exhausted from fighting and want to give up. 


I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I will probably never be normal. I never have been, and I do not know what it's like to live without anxiety, so there will always be somewhat of a battle for me... but my dad deserves a little fighter, not someone who's going to give up or run away. He has never given up; that means that I have no excuse to. So I won't.


Even though he doesn't ask for much... I hope a fighting me is enough. I'm trying, Daddy... I promise.


Despite all of these thoughts swirling around my frazzled mind, and wishing things were different, I was happy to enjoy a lovely evening of good home made food, Penny cuddling, and poker with my 3 favorite people.

Dad & His Littlest, Miss Penny

Happy Birthday, Dad. I love you <3

P.S.- Despite the lack of gift, I did happen to make and decorate this totally awesome carrot cake! :-)

You Fight Through That Shit ( I Heart Pulp Fiction, a moment of clarity)

Man oh man, did I have a roller-coaster Tower-of-Doom Sunday/Monday. The whole weekend was kinda crappy; if you read my previous post, you know it started out with Vuni and I not doing so hot. After we talked, kissed, and made up, I figured the rest of the weekend should go decent... I'd already dealt with my fair share of crap, right?


WRONG.


Not long after Mr. V and I make up, we smell something disgustingly familiar in our living room: cat piss. Immediately I begin to panic; I already know it's from EmmaBear, our 8-year-old Ragdoll. She's done this in the past; it's something that cats sometimes do when they're upset (we ruled out illness, and since we keep the THREE litter boxes immaculate, we know it's not a dirty littler box issue). For anyone who doesn't know this, cat pee not only stinks like hell, but it's a total B to try to clean the surface where the pee is and takes forever to remove the stench... and that's if you're lucky. When EmmaBear did this back at my parents' house, it took weeks before we could get the smell out of the carpet.


I cleaned the carpet as well as I could, sprinkled the area with baking soda, and crossed my finger it would be a one-time deal. This was Saturday night.


Sunday evening, we come home from being gone all day (doing laundry, oh joy), and right in the middle of the baking-soda covered carpet is a yellow patch. Furious, I grabbed EmmaBear, took her over to the pee spot, said "NO!" and began carrying her to the stairs so I could take her down to the litter boxes. I flicked on the light leading down to the basement, and what is sitting on the top stair?


A HUGE f*cking spider :(


I began screaming at the top of my lungs without even thinking; Emma clawed her way out of my grip, leaving stinging talon marks on my face, chest, and arms, and Vuni came to my rescue, slightly panicking in fear of my screams. 


So I'm shaken up from the cat pee and the spider. We decide to calm down by taking a shower. Vuni heads into the bathroom to start it, only no water comes out. He tried the sink, then the kitchen sink. No water. Vuni called his sister Krisi to see if the water was working at his parents' house. Yup, it worked fine there. Great. Is this a nightmare? I'm hot, itchy, and I just feel dirty after cleaning up pee.


We called the water company; a water mane (main?) was busted down the street, but they were sending someone out to work on it. It's like, 9:30 at night. And no water. Fantastic.


I stayed up until 2:00 AM worrying about Emma and the water, getting up to test the faucet every 30 minutes or so. Once the water came spurting out of the faucet shortly after 2, I stayed up another hour, still worrying about Emma. A cat peeing outside of her litter box may or may not be a big deal to you, but any cat lover knows just how big of a dilemma this is. Not to mention, I was feeling like a horrible mother; Emma was stressed out, that's why she was doing this.


After very little, off-and-on sleep, I rolled out of bed on Monday morning right as Vuni was leaving for work (already a bad start to my day, as I don't like getting up late). Immediately walking into the living room, I knew it smelled off. I go over to The Spot (which, we had moved a chair over it, both to keep Emma off and let the carpet/new layer of baking soda dry), and find not one, but TWO new reeking wet spots. Furious and exasperated (and desperately wanting to hit something in frustration), I called my mom (at work), absolutely hysterical. She did her best to calm me down, and suggested I stick Emma in the bathroom with one of the litter boxes. I did so, had a brief text message conversation with Vuni ("Why does life just seem to keep getting worse? I fucking hate myself right now!" <--Me "Well, I love you very much right now. We are going to be okay."), and then paused to evaluate the situation. 


In all honesty, I was feeling SO OVERWHELMED... there are no words to really describe how bad it was. I could easily compare it to the time I attempted suicide. I want to save the suicide story for another time, but basically... I was feeling so hopeless and overwhelmed, I did not know how to deal with those emotions and thoughts nor did I want to, so in a desperate attempt to not feel... I downed a bottle of pills. At the time, I didn't think I could handle life getting any worse, but I didn't see how it could get any better. I didn't want to die, but I was terrified and really couldn't imagine things would improve and that I could one day be happy again. 


Standing there evaluating, I was desperately wanting to do something to deal with the pain. I feel like I have been working so hard to turn my life around, as I've stressed in previous posts, yet things slowly only get worse. Health problems and illness. Being denied food assistance, despite relying on our parents to feed us,like, 50% of the time. Waiting to be approved for disability. Obvious money problems. Relationship issues (though, thankfully, those always seem to work out). Constant, overwhelming anxiety. Now, worrying about my beloved cat. Worrying that I'm a bad mom, worrying that if she doesn't start behaving... I might have to ask my brother to take her, at least for awhile...?  Unimagineable. I wanted to do something, anything; binge and purge, exercise until I passed out, down some vodka, smoke... even cutting crossed my mind. Cutting, which I hate admitting I ever did; it's embarrassing (even moreso since it seemed to be a trendy emo thing for a minute, and it is NOT trendy). I have only cut once since my teenage years (and that was while I was one drink shy of being blackout drunk), but I have never forgotten the disgusting "high" it gave me.


Now why do I love Pulp Fiction (which I only just happened to see)? Other than Quentin Tarantino's non-linear storyline style being reminding me of my often non-linear style of writing (which always seems to come together in the end), I feel like I can really relate to Samuel L. Jackson's character, Jules, in a way. The hardcore, badass, fearless gangster has a single "moment of clarity" that makes him want to abandon his life of crime. 

"Yeah, I was sitting here, eating my muffin and drinking my coffee, when I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity."

I don't think I've had one single moment of clarity in my life; I've had times and experiences of clarity that are leading me to become a stronger, better person.

Yesterday was one of those times. I wanted to take the easy way out; I wanted to numb myself and not have to think. That is how I've always been; I run when it comes to dealing with unpleasant thoughts and feelings. Run, or numb myself. I may never be able to escape the anxiety, but just like Jules knows he doesn't have to stay stuck in a life of crime, I know that I don't have to spend myself running and using negative methods to cope... which brings me to another Pulp Fiction quote:

The night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting. That's pride fucking with you. Fuck pride. Pride only hurts. It never helps. You fight through that shit.

Pride isn't my problem; but pride can be addictive and very negative, much like my vices. The irrational thoughts (of which pride can be an irrational thought), fuck with me. They never help me. And I have to FIGHT THROUGH THAT SHIT.

So I allowed myself to stand there and fume, cry, and irrationalize for a few minutes. I fantasized about drinking, cutting, smoking, ect. All of the things that would never help me. All of the things that would only hurt me. And then- I fought through that shit. I remembered all of the horrible things that I have experienced in the past, thanks to negative "coping" methods. I convinced myself that if I were to drink or whatever, it would only be a repeat of the past. I thought of how someone once told me they thought I must have a guardian angel; I've had a couple of close life-and-death calls (I'm truly convinced that surviving my suicide attempt was a miracle), so I thought of how lucky I am to still be here. Not only am I still here, but I have a wonderful loving boyfriend, amazing parents, two ornery but very sweet kitty cats, an outstanding brother, a roof over my head, all of the basic comforts in life, and a small network of people who truly care about me. I have a lot; a lot to fight for. 

So despite the shitty events of the weekend, and the cloud of uncertainty that has been hanging over my head, I decided that being strong and rational was the way to go. I drank a big glass of water, had a berry smoothie, got ready, and went about my day.

I was going to blog about all of this last night... but after the crazy events and lack of sleep over the past few days, I fell asleep while Vuni and I were watching Pulp Fiction; I dozed off maybe half an hour into it. Today, I understand why; I needed to watch the rest of the movie. I was born an artist, and appreciate all kinds of art, from music to painting to film. I love it when I can relate to art, hence my excitement over Pulp Fiction. Who'da thunk? This timid little ball of anxiety relating to a graphic gangsta film. Strange, but true. I honestly love how Jules has such a realization; how he saw a accidental stroke of sheer luck as a miracle, and it impacted him enough to make him want to change. I don't mean to get all philosophical/spiritual, but that makes me think of all of the little miracles that happen in life; all that have happened in my life, from meeting Vuni by random chance, to realizing I'm strong enough to deal with emotions that I, at one time, would rather harm myself than feel. 


Life may suck sometimes, and it may feel like I've been stuck in a rut for awhile without seeing any way out, but the miracles and moments of clarity... they make it worth fighting though all of that shit.

Love: It Ain't Easy (b*tching, reflecting, and pondering)

The best things in life may be "free," but they are only free in a monetary sense; the "best things" come at a much higher cost, in my opinion.


I'm specifically thinking about love/relationships.


Is this why so many marriages end in divorce? Because people rush into things without thinking about just how much effort truly needs to go into making a relationship work?


Forgive me for saying this, it truly is just my opinion, but I think people who simply believe their love is strong enough to get them through anything are full of shit- unless they're referring to the fact that love makes you a stronger, more selfless, more understanding, more-willing to compromise and sacrifice and deal with some really unpleasant emotions. I'm thinking of the people who assume that love is a faerie tale; that, because they're in so love, no problems will come their way, and if any do happen to, they can just magically get through that problem together, unscathed. 


I'm one of those people who, at one time, believed that; it sounds really sappy, and I knew from the get-go that no relationship is perfect... I also know that my boyfriend and I are both very sweet and compassionate people, who despise drama and debate. With this thought in mind, I naively assumed that we wouldn't have too difficult of a time; that, even when problems came our way, our love itself would be strong enough to pull us through it. 


The truth is, love, and a good, lasting relationship, is hard as hell. It's a lot of f*cking work. There are times it's going to be extremely painful. There are times when you'll question do I really belong with this person? Is it worth the effort? all while not being able to imagine life without them. I honestly believe this is why people fall apart. I mean, obviously, if two people don't work out, then the relationship does need to end... but when you are truly in love, and want things to work out, it's a whole different ball game. Somehow, I believe we are made to believe that love means things are easy; effortless (cough cough- Twilight Saga!). If you love each other, things will work out... yes and no.


There's so much compromise and sacrifice, so much thought and emotion, so much that needs to be understood, and taken into account. Love's not a simple thing by any means; it's complex, and my own relationship with Vuni is fool-proof evidence of that.


I'm a big-hearted, thoughtful romantic. Sweet, sentimental cards for the holidays (and sometimes just because), little surprises here and there, "I love you, my handsome!" and other adoring random text messages, babying when sick or after a hard day... just to name a few. Vuni... he's a sweetheart, but... not like that. I've finally learned to not expect much on Valentine's Day (no elaborately planned-out surprise dates, no flower and/or balloon deliveries, ect.) because he's just not into it (in fact, our first Vday together was quite painful; he did NOT enjoy my very sweet surprise to him, which I thought had been an awesome idea).


I am very high-strung (duh... anxiety); Vuni, on the other hand, is extremely mellow and go-with-the-flow. He adapts easily to change, and doesn't mind last minute, half-developed plans. As for myself? I'm neurotic about planning; a total control freak. I want to know when and where something is happening as soon as we know it's happening. I want to know all of the details as soon as possible; Vuni's okay with just knowing the date, and as the date approaches, the location. This type of thing is really important to us because of Vuni being a musician; his calendar is often filled up with gigs. Now, while the mellow/anxious polar oppositeness has caused friction, I should note that it has also been good for the relationship in some ways...


His mellow nature has taught me to loosen up somewhat; loosen up, because it's necessary. In the beginning of our relationship, I was a totally controlling bitch. If he wasn't with me, or at work or school, I wanted to know where he was, who he was with, how long he was going to be there... ect. That sounds so awful when reading it, but believe me when I say, a large part of that control-freakishness was/is due to the anxiety (though I realize that does NOT justify my behavior). I was worried about him, and a tiny part of me was worried about him cheating. I was horrible, however. Sometimes when he'd be out with friends, I'd call him and keep him on the phone for a really long time, preventing him from enjoying his time out. Now, five years in, I've learned to be so much better about things. I obviously still like to know where he's going to be and (if it's something like a gig) for how long, but I don't nag him constantly; all I ask is that, in order to keep my anxious imagination from running haywire, he check in with me to let me know he's doing okay. (When I say I worry about him, I'm serious- I worry about everything under the sun, from car wrecks to drunks to him getting drunk... all stuff I really should not be worrying about).


***Disclaimer: things are about to get very raw & honest. No sugar-coating from this usually sweet little anxiety girl!


So this brings me to why I'm writing this post; we got in another "argument," though it wasn't really an argument at all. He had a gig last night; I debated going to it, but decided against it. His ska band was playing at the fair, and yesterday was opening day. Opening day at the fair = lots of people. Lots of drinking. Lots of drunk people. Not my cup of tea on a normal day, but as it was, I was having a really hard time, depressed about our/my current situation and anxiously anticipating an important medical evaluation (which took place this morning).


They were going to play from 8-11, so I assumed he'd be home around midnight, maybe 12:30. As he was getting ready, he asked me what he should wear, because he needed to "look cool." I responded teasingly with, "it doesn't matter, you're always cool... and who do you need to impress anyways?" When he left around 6, I reminded him, as I always do when he goes out at night without me, "keep in touch with me please!" He knew I was not doing too well; sad, stressed, and anxious... that today's med eval was a HUGE deal... anyone would be anxious about it.


If the tables were turned, and he were spending the evening alone, sad, stressed, and anxious, he'd be on my mind, no matter what I was doing. I'd want to check in with him, make sure he was doing okay, ect. I wouldn't want my worrying of him to put a damper on my evening (though it probably would, but that's just because I'm me and I worry too much), but I'd want to make sure he was doing alright, all things considered. And I'd just want to hear his voice...


I guess I assumed that, despite him being so cool with his band and shit (yes! I am being a bitter bitch!), he'd still find the time to engage in a text conversation or maybe even call me (just once!) to hear my voice and make sure I was having a decent evening. In the 7+ hours he was gone, he text me twice on his own; a total of four or five all together, with his responses to my texts. (TMI- I was trying to engage him in a little bit of sexting before they started... and only got quick, seemingly bored responses... after I was such a good, loving girlfriend to him, despite being sad/anxious which initially meant I was not "in the mood", earlier in the evening before he left me all alone for the night). Forget being on the back burner; I probably wasn't even on the stove. He was too busy in his Elite Super Cool Musician Club, entertaining his adoring fans and getting his much needed attention. He text me once before they started, and once during a break, to check on me.


I was hurt and exhausted by 11:15; I figured any time after this, he'd text or call me. Eleven-thirty rolls around. Do I call/text him? No... the fair is bustling and chaotic, I'll let him contact me; he will once things settle down, even though he should've by now. It was about 11:45 when I last glanced at my phone before dozing off on the couch (I mean, come on, my appointment was at 8:30 this morning- I needed to sleep, especially since I hadn't really the night before).


I woke up very suddenly to a dead quiet house, and the first thing I realized was that Vuni was home; his gear was right in front of me (he was in the bathroom). I glance at my phone- 1:30. No calls. No texts. I felt a rush of intense pain and sadness was over me like a giant wave, pulling me under the waters of swirling thoughts:


Why is he home so late? Why didn't he contact me? Was he having so much fun that I didn't matter? That he didn't even think of me? Or is it that, when he's with The Super Elite Musicians Club, I'm too below him? Is a couple of minutes out of 7+ hours he was gone really too much to spare, and am I not worth them? Doesn't he think of me at all? Especially knowing the state I was in... Did I do something wrong? Am I physically/sexually unsatisfying? Not satisfying enough? I told him I wanted him to hold me and cuddle me when I got home... that's obviously not a motivation for him to get home soon. Was he avoiding that? Was he avoiding it because he didn't want to just cuddle, or was he worried that I was going to start whining? Were there prettier/talented/smarter/BETTER girls there, fawning over him? Am I just not worth giving a damn about?


When he came out of the bathroom, I asked him why he didn't contact me and why he was home so late. "We hung out for a bit..." was all he could say. He came over to the couch to sit by me after a few minutes, but I wasn't having it; I marched off to our guest bedroom, and laid down. After about five minutes, I heard him get up to see where I'd gone; my back was turned to the door, so I assume he saw me and either just didn't want to talk about it, or wanted to let me sleep. Ha... ha... ha... it took a long time to fall back asleep. I had really weird dreams and woke up about every 45 minutes, staying awake maybe 10-15 minutes, then falling back asleep until I got up shortly after 6:00.


Before going to my appointment, I left a text message on his phone: I hope at least a part of you realizes just how much I'm hurting, even if you're too busy "being cool" to care.


Several hours later, I got an apology text. About an hour after that, I got an apology phone call. Very bland, basic, quiet apologies. No volunteering more information on the situation. No explaining why. No, how did your appointment go? or any other concern for my well being other that asking me "how're you doing?" during the phone call. Okay, I take part of this back; he said "I feel like shit" (referring to last night's events), and I replied with, "yeah, well, so do I," to which he had nothing to say.


I was suppose to go with Vuni to the two gigs he had today; one at this cute hippie festival, the other this evening at a steakhouse. Hell, I skipped out on a chance to see one of my best friends, AJ (my "adopted brother" who I don't get to see too often), because of my full schedule. I was so hurt and angry, I haven't gone to either gigs- and instead have been moping, cleaning, and blogging. 


Vuni returned from the hippie fest gig earlier with a beautiful gift for me; when I opened the bag, part of me wanted to throw my arms around him and forget what's happened... but I've done that too often in the past. This is by far not the first time he's been inconsiderate of my anxiety and emotions in this way; in the past, he's tried to smooth things over with small gifts or treats, or by saying something sweet (like how pretty I look...), or by showing me a cute video on his phone... anything along those lines. Anything to distract from the problem. I love the beautiful clothes he brought me, and I appreciate that he realizes that I am upset... but that doesn't make up for talking about what happened. As I've said in a previous post, I want him to start taking more accountability. Am I ungrateful for not being content with "I'm sorry,"? At this point, after five years, I don't think so... I want him to talk to me about what happened, and I shouldn't have to be the one to start the conversation. 


As I type this he is at his steakhouse gig. I hope he talks to me when he gets home... I've been feeling really shitty and hurt over all of this, and as much as I appreciate his apologetic token of love, what I want most is an explanation.


So this situation is a prime example of why love is such hard work. I'm hurting and upset because I feel like I wasn't important enough or worth a few minutes of his time, and that I am just too easily forgettable; now I'm waiting for his side of the story. I know I'm too anxious, and I'm probably too damn sensitive... but I also feel like I have been a "good girlfriend," in that I was not nagging or asking for too much. I wanted him to enjoy his evening, without me there ruining it with my anxiety or distaste for all of the drunks (and I'd probably want to leave as soon as they finished playing); I didn't feel like I was asking for much in return, and I didn't even get that... so I think I deserve to know why. Also... although I've been sullen and quiet towards Vuni all day, (and maybe a little bitchy in this post), I have not exploded at him or anything.


Love really is hard work... it's a good thing that, in this case, it always seems to be worth it. Here's to hoping for tonight (*

Weekend Escape, Lil Anxiety Girl Edition

Oookay, I'm finally getting to the post on our mini vaycay/weekend getaway. It was a little road trip; Vuni's ska band had several pretty far out-of-town shows, a tiny tour, if you will ;) 


I should start by explaining that I have a very strange relationship with car travel. Prior to getting my drivers license almost 9 years ago now (wow... has it really been THAT long?), I had no issue with riding in a car. I spent the first 8 years of my life in California, so I was use to traffic and road chaos. I became a little more sensitive after I started driving, but things took a definite turn for the worse two years later. I was in a horrible car accident (some elderly dumbass ran a stop sign), and have not been the same since. I must be a bad luck charm, because I have been in 3 other accidents since (not the driver for any of those). Each time, my anxiety when traveling by car has gotten worse and worse. It is not the actual driving that scares me; it's the other drivers. I love driving and being a passenger when no one else is around... but when traffic is hectic, and people and riding on each other's asses and being uncourteous... I get as scared as shit. I've had multiple panic attacks, and often end up extremely car sick.


I knew we were going to be on the road a lot this past weekend; we had a 12 hour round-trip over the course of 3 days, 6 of those hours being on the first day. Add the fact that we brought another passenger (Vuni's bestie, Lee) and a ton of gear... AND the majority of the drive was thru the mountains. I was excited about the mountain views... but nervous as heck about the actual drive. Needless to say, Vuni bought me some motion-sickness meds before we left.


The good weekend actually started early in the morning: breakfast at Village Inn with my darling friend AJ. He's a MaCom nerd like myself. Six years my junior, I absolutely adore this guy like a little brother. Seriously, I want to adopt him. It was great getting to catch up and chat; I feel like he is one of the rare people who "gets" me ;)


After that, Vuni and I said goodbye to our kitty girls, packed up the car, and headed over to my parents'. They hooked us up with a cooler for our foods and the Garmin to help us navigate; I gave them the keys to our house so they could  babysit their grandkitties ;) We picked up Lee, and headed on our way.


Right before we entered the mountains, I popped some of those motion sickness pills. I love, love driving through mountains and the stunning views... but it can also be pretty scary. So, I take precautions. To my immense shock, after about half an hour, I could NOT stay awake. I dozed off, and when I woke up, we were on the summit of some mountain, stopping at a restaurant/store to stretch our legs and use the toilets ;) When we got back into the car, I zonked out again immediately! When I finally woke up, we only had about an hour and a half of our trip left... kinda sad I missed out on the scenery, but happy that my cat nap passed a good chunk of time and saved me some serious anxiety.


After a slight mishap with the GPS (note to self- ask Vuni for destination address before we are within a 3- mile radius of destination, GPS needs time to adjust) we arrived at our splendid hotel right as the sun began to set. Thanks to Vuni's parents! However... we also happened to discover that they were in the room right next to us... and there was a connecting door. Err... hmm, no Vuni and Em Party in the Hotel Room ;)


While Vuni and Lee headed off to the venue to take of band necessities, I stayed at the hotel, showered, and prettied myself up for the evening.

View from our room, taken the following morning. Rain was a pleasant surprise!

Vuni came back a little while later, and he and I headed out, walking to the venue which was only about 5 or 6 blocks from our hotel. We met up with Lee, and decided it was time to get a bite to eat. I was looking forward to veggies and maybe soup at the sushi place that was right across from the venue... but it had a line out the door, and we only had an hour :(

This is where things start to get tricky for me. Vuni and Lee decided they wanted to eat at this brewery. I do not like brewers; for several reasons:

1. they remind me of The Ex
2. most are not vegetarian friendly, and have a highly meat-concentrated menu
3. the beer

In all honesty, I don't exactly like going out to eat (can you say weirdo?). I'm skeptical. I've had several bad experiences with meat in my food, and in general... I don't like the idea of other people handling my food. I almost always just order a salad wherever I go, because I like that it's uncooked, fresh, and I can see everything. 

Also, Mike and Lee decided to order a pitcher of beer. I wasn't expecting them to not drink, just because of me, but it was still difficult; I use to love unique brewery beers, and the anticipation of facing a bar at the venue? It made me unsettled. But I've learned that, despite my discomfort, I cannot be selfish. I cannot rain on others' parades, just because alcohol and I have a bad relationship. It's my problem, nobody else's; so that is what I kept telling myself.

However, I was a little annoyed and slightly hurt when, shortly after, we got to the venue and Vuni cashed in his two band drink tickets, getting another beer and a coke and rum. It just bums me out a little bit that he, like myself, "needs" the alcohol to loosen him up and "give a better stage presence." Despite being a musician, Vuni's pretty shy and quiet, and actually gets a decent amount of stage fright. I can understand why he drinks before shows, but I don't like it.

Ugh! But then... everyone was drinking. I'm not positive, but I'm assuming even Vuni's parents had rum in their Cokes. The only people who weren't, obviously, were those under age... but as the majority of the crowd was of age... it seemed like the whole audience had a drink in their hand.  For the first couple of songs, I sat a distance back, with Vuni's parents. I was sad, and anxious; but then it dawned on me- I needed my love bubble. So I picked up bag, and iPod in hand, I headed down to the floor, and positioned myself at the edge of the stage, right in front of Vuni. 

He noticed me there, almost immediately, and flashed me his adorable smile. I felt the butterflies erupt in my stomach. A rush of adrenaline. Giddy like a school girl. I feel faint. It stirred memories of the first time I ever set eyes on him, the first time he flashed me that smile. The love bubble surrounded me in full force. I was going to be okay. 

My angel... my shining star.

As the energetic crowd danced wildly around me, I continued to watch and to listen to my boy; I was absorbed in him. Yes, people, he is smiling at me. I thought smugly. Heck yeah, I am that hella awesome bass player's girlfriend. Now, I did not want alcohol. I was drunk on the insanely awesome music coming out of his bass amp; I was high on those smiles. Seeing the drunks around me, I thought, Ha! You may be drinking, but I have something so much better. I didn't need to drink; all I needed was in that gorgeous bass player smiling down at me.

As soon as they finished, I seized my opportunity (somebody broke a glass, and the guy guarding the door to backstage went to help clean it up) and rushed backstage. I had to have him in my arms, ASAP. Being squeezed into a bear hug and covered in his kisses made sobriety so worth it :)

The rest of that night consisted of walking back to the hotel, bringing the car back and loading up gear, chatting with Vuni's parents for a bit, and finally arriving at our hotel for the night, where we cuddled and watched TV before passing out. The next morning, we headed downstairs to a magnificent breakfast buffet. I was a little nervous about breaking my daily routine of a breakfast smoothie for the 2nd day in a row, but I pushed those feelings aside (I was STARVING) and made myself a wonderful parfait out of some yogurt and fresh fruit. Vuni, aka Black Hole Stomach, had a bagel with cream cheese and a plate loaded with sausage and fried potatoes. Vuni found Rambo on TV; while he lounged around for a bit, I went down to the fitness room and hopped on the elliptical for a bit (where I also watched Rambo). Then, we got ready, and headed to Lee's hotel to scoop him up and head off to the next city.

Into the gloom :)

I absolutely love rain, but I was not prepared for a rainy weekend; since it's been so dang hot recently (my very LEAST favorite type of weather), I was expecting dry, hot, and sunny. It rained for the majority of our nearly 4 hour drive. Even worse, we were driving on a major pass through the mountains; it was quite terrifying. We were going the speed limit (in the rain!) and yet huge semi trucks flew past us. Talk about a suicide mission...

shortly before we stopped for lunch

We stopped at a Wendy's in a small mountain town for lunch. Who's had their Apple Pecan salad? OMG... heaven. Apples, cranberries, blue cheese, pecans & spring mix = Em's heaven. 

We were thrown off course a bit when Vuni decided to be stubborn and not listen to the Garmin ;) More than twenty miles before the exit that it was telling us to take, we saw a sign telling us it was the exit to our destination. Vuni wasn't trusting the GPS, so he asked Lee to look up directions on his iPhone. After a minute, Lee said, "Dude, I think you needed to take that exit..." So we found an exit, whipped around, and took the exit... though I was puzzled, but did not want to turn the GPS back on, since it was low on battery life. The road we took was clearly a treacherous one; I wouldn't be surprised if part of it is closed in the winter. It was a winding, two-lane pass. The only thing I could do was hang on and trust Vuni's driving, because I was damn scared. When we finally got to our destination, I realized our mistake: had we listened to the GPS, we probably would have been there in half an hour. Instead, it had taken us over an hour. But, we arrived safely, and can't say that it wasn't an adventure ;)

Our hotel was a little old and rundown, but cozy (it smelled really good too, like apples and cinnamon). Oh, and check out the view looking out our room window:

We honestly did not expect it to be so cold! I loved the weather, but again... I had brought clothes for the heat, not 52 degrees.

Vuni and I went to this quaint little Italian restaurant for dinner that night. I'm beating myself up for not taking pictures; it was super cute, decorated like a little garden. After dinner, Vuni bought my freezing self a cup of hot chocolate, before I dropped him off at the saloon (yeah, seriously). I decided to just stay at the hotel for the show; I was freezing, not up for dealing with a saloon environment, not wanting to endure another night of drunks, and desperately wanting to finish reading a book I was absorbed in. Shortly after midnight, Vuni text me to say they were done, so with the hotel being less than a mile away, I was there with a warmed car in no time. Once back at the hotel, we cuddled until we fell asleep. 

The next morning, I got up, showered, and went downstairs for some coffee. I couldn't resist taking a picture:

Once Vuni was up, we packed our stuff and checked out, off in search for some breakfast and more coffee. It was still pretty early (about 9:30) when we left, and as we made our way to the car, I stopped in my tracks at the breathtaking views:

Are these views not stunning? The pictures don't do the real thing justice, but at least I have them to supplement my memory :) 

We found a neat coffee shop that was an obvious hang-out for wannabe hippies. You know, the wealthy people who wear there Tevas and Keens, tie dyed shirts under a NorthFace windbreaker and loose pants or skirts, long hair, cloth stoner bags, and drive shiny new Subarus covered in "save the earth" and "coexist" bumper stickers? Hehe, yup, them ;) 

We found out that Lee had gone home with some of the other band members after the show (yeah, after midnight, with a 3 hour drive) so we headed out. I was in charge of navigation this time, and I did darn well. Although I never minded Lee's company, it was pleasant being just with Vuni. He really is the bestest friend I ever could have asked for. (Why does just "best" not sound right there?)

We arrived home safe in the early afternoon. Well, we were safe. We found the littler of our two kitty girls trapped in a drawer... how she squeezed her pudgy little kitty butt in there is a mystery to us. Other than that, all was well; we had a lovely little getaway, but were happy to be back in our cozy home.