Thanks - Sincerely

I was thinking about the number of times I've been asked "Have you heard anything yet" in the last three weeks. The number is too high to count. But do you know what it made me remember?

The day of my interview, I had to shut off my phone. Not so that it didn't make any noise during my interview and not because I didn't want to receive any calls, but because I got SO MANY text messages wishing me good luck or telling me that I would do awesome that it made me cry. Seriously there were upwards of 50 messages that one day. It even topped my birthday.

And since I'm a crier, albeit a logical one, I shut off my phone because I wasn't about to ruin my make-up on interview day :-)

It got me thinking about how lucky I am. About how many people are supporting me through this and how many people are wishing me well. I doubt there are many others who had more support (from such a variety of people) than I do.

So I wanted to say thanks. I just wanted to put that out there. Because while I'm quietly going crazy through the admissions process (no I don't know anything yet) it's the thought of all that support that keeps me sane. I figure that because of you guys, I'll be alright either way. I appreciate that. A lot.

Where is the "Override" button?

I get a lot of "You reveal so much on your blog. I'm not sure I would be comfortable with that." I'm not quite sure I agree, but how do you explain blogging to non-bloggers? I try to explain that about 85% of my blogs are for entertainment's sake. Usually something happens in my life, and I spin it to make it the most amusing anecdote possible. My emotions in the situation are exaggerated for comedic effect, and sometimes the conversations are tweaked to be shorter, wittier, sillier etc. Every blog is based in truth, but they're always stories. They're always designed for entertainment, and they're about me. No one else. Just me.

Of course, then sometimes things happen that need no exaggeration. They're hilarious all by themselves. I think it's the universe's way of keeping me on my toes. In those moments, the boy's gotten used to me giggling to myself for hours afterwards as I "write the blog in my head." Sometimes he'll even contribute. You can thank him next time you see him.

When explaining my blog to my parents, I finally just gave them the address and let them read it themselves.* My father eventually said it was a form of therapy. I almost got to protest, but he was quick to point out that it's cheaper than a therapist (sorry Ann) so he does not think it's a bad thing.

I laughed. I can remember off the top of my head maybe one (or two) blogs that were truly my naked emotions. (And that second one? That was really lighthearted when I think back to how close to the edge I really was.) I told my father that I don't generally like admitting I have emotions....must less discussing them on this blog. I try to keep it anecdotal.

But I'll break that rule today because today? I need some therapy. Today? I feel like a failure. And while my mind knows logically that I am NOT a failure, the feeling persists.

See, this past weekend I made the decision to delay my application to vet school. This past weekend I decided that perhaps (perhaps) I had been a little bit overconfident in thinking that I could rush the process and be able to handle 18 hours of organic chemistry 2, genetics/molecular biology, biological chemistry, and microbiology/immunology next semester. Even without work. Because originally? The plan was to apply this year, and wrap up all of my classes in the spring 2010 semester.

And now the plan is to wait and apply in 2010.

I came to this conclusion after three weeks of physics 2 and an organic chemistry class that is demanding every brain cell that I haven't yet killed off with alcohol.

I don't do "weakness." I'm superwoman, remember? I can handle anything. And while I logically know that this decision isn't a bad one, and in fact, might even be the best decision I've made in a while, I can't help but feel like an utter failure.

This is not a competition thing. And this is not a feeling I've gotten from anyone in my life. Lord knows the boy is thrilled to keep me around for another year.** And my best friend couldn't be more supportive. My parents? Didn't seem to phase them. Another friend (mother of two boys under the age of 4) told me that I was most certainly NOT a failure as I'm currently living the life of three people at once. (Um, she has two children under the age of 4... I still think my life is easier.)

It's all coming from me. Just me. Because if I'm hard on people I'm close to, I'm harder on myself. The standards that I set for myself are never rarely compromised. I mean, this is the girl who trained to run 13.1 miles just because she wanted an exercise in setting a goal and achieving it. Nevermind that her previous philosophy was to "never run unless chased." Once I set a plan for myself, I don't deviate. I finish what I set out to do, come hell or high water. You know, like a bulldog.

And I KNOW I'm still going to finish the plan that I set for myself. But delaying it a year? Right now it feels like the end of the world. Like I wasn't strong enough to finish what I started. Like I totally suck for only taking 5 hours instead of the usual 10 last year and setting myself back. Like I should have made the decision to become a vet earlier in my life so that I wouldn't feel like the clock is constantly ticking on me now.

Maybe I just need some time to get more perspective. Or maybe I just need to get an A in organic chemistry to feel better. (The A in physics is a given. I have a secret weapon... if I can drag him away from the Beatles Rock Band and the football...) I vote option "B" personally. So if any of your are organic chem tutors and feel like lending your expertise, I am currently accepting applications. Encouragement in the form of DOTS is also accepted. I will also accept offers from men who would like to mow my lawn for me and relieve stress that way. The position of "comfort by laying your head on my lap and looking at me adoringly" has already been filled.***

*They've visited a total of once. Apparently my writing is not as amusing as I originally anticipated.

**Facetious. He's supportive for several other reasons. See? Trying to be lighthearted.

***By Casey you perverts.

Okay...maybe it was hormones

I just read this, and I'm tearing up at my desk. My boss keeps asking me what's wrong, and I can't exactly tell him that I was reading the best of Craigslist on the sly when I should have been giving the bill paying my complete attention. Nor can I explain to him that I was looking for the good laugh that Craigslist is reliable in providing me (see: this) and instead found a touching story that is making my nose turn Rudolph red, and my eyes puff up like I haven't slept in weeks. (I am not a pretty crier btw.)

So instead I'm just telling him that it's allergies. We'll keep this between us, okay?

Vacation blog coming. Just hold your horses. I'm not known for recovering from non-routine activities very quickly.

I don't even like the Bears

So. That last blog post. Man. It was sort of a deviation from the norm, eh? I'm not quite sure if I should pretend like it never happened, or offer an explanation. I feel like I should react like a guy and change the subject abruptly by saying something like, "Hrumph... Well... How about those Bears?"

To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure what came over me. I was trying to explain to my friend...let's call her "Schmiane," that I generally don't feel comfortable posting "personal stuff" in my blogs. She protested that I do, indeed, post personal stuff. But I guess the difference is that I view what I post as anecdotal, not personal. Sure, you know that I'm going back to school, that I have a little brother, that I love my dogs, that I have a boy in my life, etc. But I try to make the stories entertaining and fun. I guess I don't generally feel like I'm giving you a commentary on what I feel about stuff that's personal to me. I mean, even when I was feeling the first signs of frustration in my relationship, I tried to give it a humorous spin. And when I post about my nemesis...well, I don't think it's PC for me to actually tell you the level of hatred I feel for that dog. Instead, I try to make it funny. So feelings, for me, are taboo. (As my other friend, "Schmeelionsfan" stated, "You have no problem discussing feelings, you just don't like to admit to having them." That pretty much hits the nail on the head.)

Unless, of course, it's jubilation over the outcome of a recent election. (Sorry Schmandy)

Immediately after I posted that last blog, I felt a bit uncomfortable. I considered taking it down immediately, but I had already left the immediate vicinity of the computer. I continued to internally debate about it when I went to book club and ultimately decided that it was done, and I would leave it. Then I got a call from a well meaning friend who had read the blog and was just checking in. This was exactly the sort of reaction that I had feared. I didn't want people to think I was wounded and bleeding and rushing to help me. I was all SORTS of uncomfortable with that scenario. So I made the biggest mistake of the night decided to discuss my predicament with friends in book club. Of course they all immediately wanted to read the blog and no amount of begging on my part could stop them. Since I had no way to delete it BEFORE they read it, I was sort of kicking myself for opening my big mouth.

I braced myself for teasing and planned on taking the post down in the morning. Instead what I found were cautious words of support. (Cautious because they knew that I was afraid of.) As the day went on, more comments appeared, and emails in response to my post poured in.

I began to readjust my thinking. These phone calls, emails, comments and offers to talk weren't pity, and they weren't bad. They were from friends who probably had some idea of what I was going through, but since I generally shut off the conversation with "I'm fine" or "We're fine" didn't have a way to offer support. The blog offered an opening, and I'm surprised and humbled by the number of responses I got. Apparently everyone already knows that Emily has feelings, whether or not she likes to admit it.

So, for better or worse, I'll leave it up. As one commenter said, should someone going through the same thing happen to stumble upon it, and it helps them, so much the better. I just hope that that person has as many great friends as I do.

So....Hrumph.... How about those Bears?

What Mothers Do

Um, this is a bit long. Sorry. I'm wordy.

It's not rare that you would hear the words, "My mother's crazy" come out of my mouth. That's just frustration. A way to flippantly express the angst that most daughters feel for their mothers at one point or another. I don't really mean she's crazy. At least, not in the sense that she should be locked up or anything. Or that she's a danger to society. She's just sometimes a danger to me. (and as an extension sometimes a danger to my friends because I am in one FINE mood after she and I have a disagreement.)

It's just that she always has an opinion about everything. And once she had that opinion firmly in her mind (based on whatever facts seem to be very clear to her at the time) it is impossible to change. (Pot, meet Kettle. I know. I know.) The thing is, her opinions tend to be based on only a few insignificant facts.

But then, that's because a few insignificant facts about my life are all I will usually give to her. I mean, after one or two thousand fights, I tend to want to avoid such confrontations with her. So I just tell her as little as possible. Fool me once, and all that... I mean, I've got a temper, and the apple doesn't usually fall far from the tree. When my mother and I go at it, my father and brother usually leave the room and make sure a soundproof door is between us. My cousin usually gets a long day on yahoo messenger the next day as I try to figure out how to cope with full blooded Peruvians who are directly related to me.

So in the spirit of trying to grow, I opened up and talked to my mother when I was home for Thanksgiving about the whole story behind the boy (tears and all.) She's been cool (as in "distant," not "down wit dat") on the subject of the boy ever since I moved out. I know she doesn't quite get what's going on, and I KNOW she tends to see me as a weak victim (but I can't figure out wtf that's all about. Seriously? Does anyone else ever see me as a victim??) so I thought we would talk.

And talk we did. I poured it all out. (Warning: intimate details about Emily's relationship ahead.)

How he was a jerk when we lived together and I really needed him to step up. How he's since apologized and quit the job he hated. How he's making much less money, but he's so much happier. How we're talking through things much more thoroughly now. How I still don't know what the future holds, but I'm in no rush to the altar, and for now I'm happy that we're happy when we're together more often than we're miserable when we're together. (For a while it was a toss up.) I told her that what I love most about him is (at the risk of sounding cliche) that he gets me. He doesn't see my outgoing nature as flirting and doesn't get jealous, he knows that I'm hyper competitive and he's resigned to it, he knows that I spend twice as much time talking to my best male friend as I do all of my other friends combined and he's okay with that, and he knows that I'm insane but he's willing to work with it. He sees all of me, and he loves me the way I am, and I never knew how comforting/relieving/awesome that could be. Apparently all the things I see as flaws can't really be flaws because someone loves me completely despite all of them.

The things I question are, why are we happier now? Is it because we live apart? I mean, he helps me out more now than he ever did when we lived together. Why is that? Is it because he's out of that job he hated? Was he depressed in that job? Is it because my moving out frightened the heck out of him? Is he really growing up? Or do I just not see the issues that I saw so clearly when we saw each other all the time? Is he just putting forth effort now when he's afraid he's going to lose me, and if we move in together, will everything go back to how it was?? I think about these things. I really do. It's not like I'm thinking we're going to live happily ever after. I know we've got a mountain of problems to work through, and I know that if we can't live together, that throws a huge roadblock on any future I may be considering.

When I got done explaining all of this, I was breathless and teary. My nose was all red and snotty. It wasn't pretty. And basically my mother had this to say, "Emily, I just think he's too comfortable in the relationship. He knows that you're never going to leave him, so he can do whatever he wants and you'll always come running back to him when he snaps his fingers."

In the spirit of growing, I didn't yell, I just let out a resigned sigh and ended the conversation.

But then I thought about what she was saying. It's almost like she was saying what I was thinking (the putting forth effort thing) from a different perspective. She just sort of tweaked it so that apparently I am the hapless victim and he's got all this power in the relationship.

Hmm. When I think of myself and the boy, I tend to think of us as equals. A relationship is all about give and take, and all about compromise. Something we're getting better and better at. Well, at least I thought we were. Until, you know, my mother planted ugly seeds of doubt in my head. But then again, SHE doesn't know the ins and outs of our relationship. After thinking on what my mother had said, (one might say I spent time to "think on these things") rejecting them outright, rethinking, and generally driving myself insane, I finally brought it up to the boy.

After some immediate anger towards my mother (understandable) I sort of calmed him down enough to get him to see why I even brought it up. She took the same facts I already knew and just came at them from a different (albeit uglier) angle. After he adamantly denied what she had said, I pointed out why she might have the idea she does. I asked him about what really HAD changed since we moved out. How was I ever going to know that we weren't doomed to repeat the same mistakes? It was a very very interesting discussion that has actually been tabled until the next time we see each other. (We ran out of time. I tend to talk. A lot. News flash.)

I don't know that anything has actually been resolved, but then, that's not the point right now. The conversation was the point. The moving forward. The possibility that maybe things will be figured out someday in the future.

And that's what mothers do. Apparently even crazy ones.

I'm the dog? I'M THE DOG?!*

My ex friend compared me to George W. Bush this morning.

Harsh.

And then he compared me to Shrek.

I have great [ex] friends**.

You know how sometimes, you feel really really really strongly about something? Something that it seems that no one else understands? You can usually explain those things to your friends, and they will nod along and make sympathetic noises as you explain your emotions and how you plan to act on them, and how you try to balance emotion with reason and move forward with your life.

At least, you can do those things with my friends. If you can't, perhaps you should invest in new friends.

I may or may not have taken advantage of this in endless circular discussions about the boy. And my friends sigh, and they nod, and they listen, and they cross their fingers that this time my path will make it through the woods. (I think it's more so that they don't have to listen to a description of the woods any longer, but it may also be because they want me out in the sun as much as I do... :-) They know I'll figure it out eventually, and really, nothing they say will make a difference. It's not worth the effort.

But what about when I feel really really strongly about something, and instead of nodding and making sympathetic noises, my friends open their mouths and explain that perhaps (perhaps) I may be making an error and throwing off that emotion/reason balance off in favor of too much emotion? What if all of a sudden, they feel that I'm making a big enough mistake that it IS worth the effort to say something just in case it makes a difference?

This isn't about the boy.

What about when I feel super-strongly about something that I can't even think about without tearing up***, and I discuss it with my friends, and every single one of them disagrees? Every. Single. One. What then?

Well, I don't want to be W. I mean, I can see the mistakes he's made plain as day. Can he? Do you think that hindsight really is 20/20? Do you think he wishes he had listened to [intelligent] others [without hidden agendas] just once? Do you think that for a second he realizes (even now) that when you're the only one thinking that you're right, there's a slight possibility that you're actually wrong? I mean, he's repeated mistakes, right? So maybe he doesn't realize. Maybe he doesn't see.

Me? Well, if I'm sure about a course of action, it's not up for discussion. I just do it, smart or dumb. I don't want to hear anyone else's judgment on what I want to do when I'm sure. But I'm reasonably intelligent. My "I'm absolutely sure about this possibly dumb decision" is usually something like, "I'm totally buying these $150.00 fuschia boots that don't really fit that well, but would totally go with this one dress that I own." So when I'm unsure? It's a big thing. It's weighing heavy on my mind. It's something that I don't want to screw up. I poll my friends and family. I talk to them about what they would do in my situation. Some opinions weigh heavier than others. But when everyone else is in agreement, and they all agree that perhaps I'm not choosing the correct course of action? Well, it sends me back to the drawing board to re-think things.

The problem is that since it's a big something, and I'm struggling with the decision, going back to the drawing board isn't easy. It's going back and re-thinking priorities and principles and trying to figure out where I could have made a mistake when drawing up the rules for "what makes up Emily," and trying to figure out what everyone else sees that I'm just missing. Pretty much everything else in my life stops for a while.

But on the other hand, apparently I could be Shrek who [according to the ex-friend] saw something that was very, very important to him that he wanted, and he went after it even though other people didn't think it would work out. Even though it turned ugly for a bit, at the end, it worked out for the best, and everyone was happy.

I'm sure there's another story that had a prettier protagonist that worked out that way...ahem.

Do I want to run the risk of being W just for the possibility of being Shrek? Or do I want to understand why everyone else sees something that I don't and take their good advice?

But there is a bright side, I guess. If I screw this up, it's only myself that I'm placing in an impossible situation. At least I'm not controlling the fate of an entire nation.

*If you don't catch this reference, then we can no longer be friends.
**We're still friends. Promise. I'm being "pretend outraged" that he drew such unflattering comparisons. This is, no doubt, the reaction he was intending to elicit****
***Which really, doesn't mean much since I cry at coffee commercials
****I felt the need to explain that for those who don't "get me" quite yet. Don't worry. You'll get there.

Stress

Stress is a funny thing. In the days since the car accident, I've been super super stressed out. I don't think I've reached my breaking point yet. But I would be lying if I didn't say that I could definitely see the appeal of just letting go and freaking the hell out. (Side note: It took me a long time to understand that different people can handle different things. I just thought those who broke down were being wimps. I never considered that perhaps they literally could not walk away from the edge.) So in the various moments throughout the week when I eyed the cliff and considered jumping off (while knowing full well that I wouldn't/couldn't) I could definitely see why some people would take that option and never look back. It's just so....freeing.

Of course, then who would make sure things got done? This is usually what brings control-freak Emily back to reality, makes her take a deep breath and remember that as long as she's moving forward, the end will come soon enough. Besides, lying in bed and ignoring all responsibilities with the latest book club book is just as good as jumping off the cliff, and has less negative effects on my life.

Luckily I'm surrounded by great people. The boy came through, if not with flying colors at least with a solid A. I have a great boss who is also fabulous for brainstorming. I have friends who are willing to drive me places and rearrange their schedule to help me out. I have supportive and unbelievably giving parents. And, last but not least, I have a cousin who will take exactly what I'm willing to share with her, read between the lines, and dole out reliably good information time after time. I think she gets the bulk of the credit for talking me away from the cliff, and she did it all from thousands of miles away. She's an amazing woman, and I suggest you all get a cousin just like her.

Between everyone, I was able to have my freak out moment (sorry for any of you who were involved in that period) and then return to reality and breathing.

I am so grateful for the number of phone calls I received with support and just checking in to see if I was okay. I'm sorry if I haven't returned all of them. Let me get to the point where the car accident is an amusing anecdote and I'll get right on that.

Okay, the update is that there is no update. There are questions about the insurance coverage that might not be answered until next week. I don't know what those questions are, but they're making me nervous. I'm currently driving a canary yellow rental that I hate, but (sigh) at least I have a car. (It's so yellow. Did I mention that it's yellow?) My beloved Curvy is currently at the dealership where they're working on an estimate. I also have an insurance adjuster going out there to get a second estimate just in case. I saw her yesterday and was going to take pictures for you guys, but it was just so sad that I couldn't do it. They had her up and taken apart to see the damage, and though she looked fine from the outside after the accident, the underside of her rear end doesn't look so great from underneath. (insert brief sob here)

Things could be worse. I know, and I remember this every day. But the way I explain my stress to my boss is this: Since I don't own a home, my car is my most valuable possession. Some girl just ran right into it, damaged it quite a bit, and I'm not sure when I'll get it back, or IF I'll get it back. I know that in a month, or even a week, this will all be under control. It's just getting from here to there that's a struggle for me.

Physically I'm fine and I know this because my mother badgered me into going to the doctor. (It was either go to the doctor or kill my mom. The first option is less messy, so in the end, I guess I reinforced the badgering behavior by giving in.) Tonight the boy and I are going out to a nice dinner with a $100 gift card that we've been saving for "the right time." He seems to think that a free dinner with no stress seems to be the thing I need right now. I think he's right.

But he's going to make me drive. In the yellow embarrassment. Sigh. I guess it's never NOT time to mess with Emily's psyche. It's okay. The fact that I'm already thinking of retribution shows that I'm already on the road to recovery, right?