memorable roommates

i'm sitting here in the office with Ash while he is doing top secret work, listening to Sufjan's Age of Adz b/c it's one of our favorites. and the mood calls for it. he's on the imac, i be on the laptop. and i ask him for a blog topic (like i don't have 40 in my head already). what do i get? bunnies.  what the shit? he has babies on the brain. and now he is back to doing what he was doing so i can get no more out of him. this is our life. of the 5 awake hours a day we see each other, we spend roughly 2.5 of them coexisting in the same room, not talking. only glaring when the other toots. boooor-ing! we are that couple.

so new topic. the last post was on home. it seems like so many people i have been talking to lately are dreaming of similar things. a place to call home, whether it be in or out of the city, a house or a condo, or just a place that you can choose the paint color. being in transition does remind me that life is a journey. the home i grew up in wasn't spectacular, but i felt like it was planned well and felt big enough for all five of us. and we lived there my entire life until after college. so did Ash with his family...entire life and they still live there. so i think it makes sense that we both long to have somewhere that we can be for the long haul...for a community that we can be a part of...for better or worse, i guess. and maybe not for the longest of hauls, but longer than we have together to date (3 places in 6 years). we have a running notebook full of dream house ideas...and Ash lets me write whatever i like in the program for the dream house, even if we both know it will definitely may not happen. but all you suckers are going to want to try my bidet when you come over and don't think you won't. and you'll be jealous of my pot filler, carrera marble, and soaking tub too.


so i think i will take a walk down memory lane for a minute as tonight's topic: Memorable Roommates.

speaking of perpetual transition, since i graduated college, i have lived in 7 different places, and in college I changed dorm rooms/apts pretty much every semester that i could, having 9 roommates throughout college. nine roommates was not because i didn't like the people i lived with. not at all...i think i pretty much still keep up with everyone. except for my freshman year roommates.

#1 was a UM pairing they thought would be funny and make it rhyme: Amy/Jamie. similarities ended there. imagine for a moment a giant wolf face poster staring at you every time you walk in the room as well as an even bigger rebel flag hanging in the back of her closet (that you could see from our doorway). the placement of that flag was our first serious tiff...with her redneck boyfriend glaring at me the whole time. it was also a tiff that allowed for my newly acquired mountain bike to stay in the room as well. i forgot to mention that this room was maybe only 20'x13', at most. and carpeted. carpet that was more than 30 years old, kind of a concentrated bile color, having a stale, wet smell that i can still close my eyes and recall without much effort. ACK. i digress. so Jamie had this redneck boyfriend that liked to stay over a LOT. she was a pastor's daughter who was hell bent of sewing her sexual oats every minute she got that semester, which didn't make the room smell any fresher, or allow me to enter my own room without having to knock first. ACK. i'm not judging b/c i was somewhat in the same boat,  just not as straight up geeky about it. or maybe i was, i also smoked a lot of weed with the girls across the hall that semester, so i could be wrong about that.

freshman roommate #2 was a girl i partied with a lot in the fall semester. we moved to my sorority hall for the spring semester even though she wasn't in my sorority. Kelli. she had my favorite hand-writing of anyone ever. i can't describe it, but i would want to make it into a font if i knew how. you would think we would be much better paired since we'd become such good friends when i was exiled to her room during the fall semester during Jamie's sexathons. but somewhere towards the end of that fall semester and january, i had become a christian, which just made it inevitably awkward. looking back, it was one of my favorite living situations, despite me learning what it meant to be a christian, and being constantly confronted with the need to relate to and enjoy my friend who was growing increasingly wilder by the day. and bonus, she had gotten back together with her boyfriend at the end of the fall semester, so once again, i had two roommates for the price of one, and still had to knock before entering my own room. i still really enjoyed shenanagans with kelli as she was (and still is, i assume) one of the most hilarious people i have ever known. my favorites were her stalking the south african soccer team boys from our window to see when they were headed to the caf so she could drag me in there with her. or her walk of shame stories she had (while on small hiatuses from boyfriend) from the delta chi house sans pants, and the reasons why she put posters on the ceiling above her bed, and our answering machine messages, both outgoing and ones we would leave each other. but we have lost touch b/c she is not on facebook and i am (that most definitely IS judgement). and she has that side of her that enjoys being very aloof and un-findable, though i did stalk her at the hair studio she worked at for many years and let her make me blonde for a season. i did run into her at the publix in rosemary beach a couple of years ago. i got that unmistakable, "OH-WA. MYYY. GAWD. AY-MEEE LEW-CUS?!" so funny.

unfortunately, Ash had no college roommates (that's actually very sad to me), but he does have a funny post-college roommate story that involves living with a blind guy who owned a gun. again with the knocking and announcing ourselves to roommates upon entry...

happy monday!

HOME

Though Lent has begun, it's been hard to focus on the soul-searching things I should be thinking of in this season. I feel like I've been doing that since November. And b/c we gave up "buying things" (pretty much anything besides groceries) for Lent, all I want to do is shop browse online. In reality, a lot of what I think about is specifically related to house stuff. A myriad of blogs with beautiful images about how to shape up your space, etc only make me more discontent with where I live/how we are living. For example:

These images are from the website of a design firm and shoppe in Rosemary Beach, FL (that carries some of my work at the beach location):

Every single picture makes me intensely envious of the people who get to live in these spaces. But it also makes me long to own a home again...to create and influence the space I live in in a dramatic way and to make it truly my own. I know first-hand the trials that come with home ownership, but after having rented for 3 years now (which feels much longer), memory has smudged all the F-bombs, frustration and arguments, time-consumption, and 40 trips to Home Depot to connect one bathroom sink, from my thinking about even the smallest renovation, much less, the total overhaul.

Here, I'm saying it on the interwebs, my Ash. Due to my time-warped mind and desire to move somewhere affordable, I actually wouldn't mind a fixer-upper (mostly b/c it offers you an opportunity to be the (co)designer AND client like you always dreamed of and not just b/c we can't afford anything else, coupled with the thought of continuing to live in this dark cramped apartment with a restless kid makes me more than anxious).

Though I'm not sure I would be able to create quite these kinds of spaces due to a lack of funds (you noticed the wolf and subzero appliances, and the soaking tub, didn't you?), but I do love creating with Ash. His style is very different from my "rustic" tendencies, and his "contemporary vernacular" often falls short of function in my opinion. And I'm sure we'd have to find a compromise between what he calls "cluttered with junk" and what I call "styled and hospitable." Haha.

I recognize this is just part of my continued looooonging for change in my life, a continual idealization of what is not present. I am longing for wide(r) open(er) spaces and clean(er) air, wherever that may be found. No place is ideal in our minds, but it's not a big secret that we would love to move back to the South. We are always looking for an opportunity. I am certain it will happen one day, sooner rather than later, even if just for Ellery's sake of being a little closer to family. It will be bittersweet in the leaving here as much as it has been bittersweet in the coming, the staying and doing life here.

Cheers to not being stuck in renovation at the moment, not being house-poor, and to the Spring which should be arriving soon, with a preview tomorrow and Friday.

Oh, and what did you give up for Lent?

98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed

I was reading to Ellers this weekend. A book that, coincidentally, Ashley and I both were given upon our graduations. The middle to last part stuck out in particular to me in this season of our life, as we contemplate our own going or staying. And a happy late birthday to dear Theodor Seuss Geisel.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!...by Dr. Seuss

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. There are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be as famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't
Because, sometimes they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike,
And I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)...


Copyright 1990.

I love the weekends with Ash. All of it. And E does too. She and I are much more restful and at peace when this man we love is WITH us. I love getting him at his best...in the morning, well, mid-morning (you'll see). Most days, he is gone before I wake up, and gets home around 7p. After we put EV down, we have maybe 2 hours of time together before we hit the hay. Maybe. His eyes start rolling about 9p most nights, as well they should since he naturally wakes up on the dark side of 5a or 6a most days. That is typically the deepest part of sleep for this girl. I still think it's funny that we are so opposite when it comes to sleeping. He can almost fall asleep before his head hits the pillow and it takes me what feels like forever to finally fall asleep. He wakes early and I can sleep-in with ease when Ellery isn't waking me up to early. It's even more odd, if not just plain sad, that most of our time together is spent sleeping. Close but unconscious. Yeah, it's just sad. But it's our reality. If only we could converse in our dreams...

Why are our lives so busy, so filled with so much work? It's frustrating that the person I care the most for in this world is someone I feel like I see so little. It makes me feel like we never use our time together as well as we should considering the ratio is so off.

This kind of thinking makes me reflective of how little I contemplate the larger presence in my life. Of God. As a Christian, it's a little shocking even to me, how little thought or time or energy I have for loving God and loving people. I don't blog about this often b/c there are quite a few of our friends that don't know this about us. It's not something that easily finds its way into conversation up here in New England. Church: yes, religion: yes, but often with hostility...which doesn't make it easy to discuss knowing God, which is very different. I really don't like religion. And most of the time, I don't like church. It's easier to be funny and snarky or to just drink my wine and keep quiet for fear of being grouped in with Westboro Baptists or have to fight against with someone's past experience, often a very bad past experience. And we all know I'd rather just have fun.

So in hiding (I'll admit it), I feel like our role in relationships has been more of listening and learning one with some of our friends in the last three years here in Boston. And I have to say, I've learned so much more about people in general, and my interaction in the world as someone who says they love God than I ever thought about before. Don't get me wrong, I feel like it's present in the South, but still very buried. And the results for me have challenged a lot of my auto-responses and how I dialog--I feel like I've just gotten to relax a bit too, which is a surprise. I'm so thankful for all the people that I know here. For the moments I brush up against and can very tangibly feel the anger people have with the church and God. I have it myself. It clouds my view of a God, and easily leads me to bitterness and assumption instead of more understanding.

I feel like this season has been a good place to hide. The good part has been listening, understanding and reflection. The bad is that it quickly hardens my heart toward many things, as isolation is prone to do. And I do hope that it is a passing season for me (the hiding). I am not ashamed, but I just don't know how to articulate very quickly or effectively what kind of person who loves God that I actually am. I hope I am one that is struggling alongside all these wonderfully diverse people I love here in Boston and elsewhere to understand meaning and relationship and that very real ache that nothing else fills. Not even a husband who comes home to me at night and on the weekends. Or my dream house. Or dream vacation. Or warm weather.

I don't know what else to say.

Thoughts?

Seasonal Affected Disorder

Anyway. Now that it's March, my Southern self cannot shake the idea that Spring is all but here, with warmer breezes and budding branches, but it most definitely is NOT. I want change. CHANGE. I long for change with every ounce of energy I have...which to say is not much these days. Not just for seasons, though that is the biggest thing, but in every area of my life. I want new clothes, new shoes, warm weather to wear them in, new toys for EV, a new (owned by me) house, a new life (same characters though). I am itching for what I feel powerless to change. And I know I don't need these things, nor that they are any kind of answer, but I'm sunk in my desire for them and lured by the tangibleness of purchasing that new sundress. If I buy it, Spring will come, right? I want a new heart too. I am appathetic and feel 100 years old. Things that once pricked my heart are barely a blip on my screen. I want a new me...the ideal me. And I want it to just happen. BAH! Reading that outloud is hilarious, isn't it? OF COURSE it doesn't work that way. But I can still squinch my eyes real tight-like and hope, right? Let's all do it. I think this is great advice for the younger generation...

Confession: I did go to H&M this morning and scooped up some super cute things for the Little Miss AND that sundress I spoke of earlier. (Don't tell Ash.) I mean, come ON. Now that we have a beach trip planned, my head is constantly dreaming of every waking second that I'll be spending on that beach, toes in sand, sangria in hand. I am planning what to pack, what to wear on the plane, etc. I cannot wait even though it is more than 10 sickeningly long weeks away.*SIGH*

Oh, and after finally going a little more LIVE with this little blog by posting it to FB, it's easy for me to want to censor myself a little more like we all must do on FB. or with our in-laws.

eh. maybe.

I'm still not going to alter my vernacular. FTS (a phrase Ash has asked me not to start using unless i'm willing to also start smoking virginia slims and wearing leather pants). Well sir, point me to the tanning bed and light'er up. I already have other forms of abbreviated verbal accoutrement that work their way into conversation, why would that one be any different? This is a judgement-FREE zone, people, and I've been buzzed with more than a few of you and have heard your mouth as well.

I'm working on a better format for this little blog other than the rambling tree thoughts it has become, so keep reading. Hopefully I it will get better. And more interesting. And thoughtful. And maybe even funny from time to time. Maybe.

In the meantime, call Holly and tell her to come see me.