I like to think that I cope well with not only change, but with spontaneity. It would speak well of my character if I enjoyed surprises, but when they come in the form of a 3 page research paper due in 3 hours, my love for the impromptu is tested.
Have you ever sat down and really, truly thought about your fiscal situation? I mean apart from tax time (which is nigh!). I recently had the revelation that I, Cathi Martin, am spoiled. I don't mean in a "rotten" sort of sense, just "spared the true hardships of reality". This hit me harder than a Lincoln hits a utility pole when the day after "my" car was wrecked, I was in possession of not just another vehicle, but essentially a brand-spanking-new one. I may have never lived in a big fancy house, known what caviar tastes like, or worn designer jeans, but I have been beyond well taken care of.
I need to work on eliminating irrational spikes of jealousy from my emotional repertoire.
It would be nice to think that I'm exactly where I want to be, but I think that's a hard sentiment to be sure of. Doing well in school? Check. Successful in speech? Check. Surviving on my own? Check. Content with my job? Check. Deliriously happy with the boyfriend? Check. Acceptable fashion sense? Well... I guess there's always room for improvement.
I've got a history of wearing my mind on my sleeve
The heart, on the other hand, tends to stay locked in my chest pumping blood like it's its job, for better or worse. Which is good, cardiovascularly, but not so good emotionally. The depths of the allegorical heart remain a mystery to me intellectually, if not intuvitively.
Conversation has never been an easy thing for me to accomplish. While expressing ones self is one of the basic tenets of human nature, I spent more time as a child with my nose in a book and my mouth firmly shut than I did debating the finer points of Pog technique with my peers. This lack of practice with verbal expression had made even the simplest of sharing points a thing of torture. It's like having one of those rubber seals they put syringe vials covering my mouth. It physically feels like I'm trying to push through something when I think I should divulge some sort of private thought. Sometimes I'm brave enough to be able to force my way through, but afterwards the barrier always seals itself again. None of this "chipping away at the brick wall" nonsense.
One year, two days ago I, the brazen hussy that I am, made the first of a series of moves with a Mister Alex Durbin. I can't say that was The Beginning, but it was definately the start of The Beginning. Hindsight being 20/20 I feel confidant in saying that things have turned out for the best, although it doesn't feel like it's been a year. I think that's good.
I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me
Let's take this from the top.
I told Robert-the-16-year-old that the reason he thinks "dating is pretty lame" is because he hadn't dated the right girl. That yeah, doing the same stupid things over and over again, like going to movies or walking around downtown Naperville does get tired and old, but that's not the point of dating. It shouldn't really matterwhat exactly you're doing, just the fact that you're doing it together. Talking to that person should be the high point of your day, what it is you look forward to. He said his conversations with his best friend were like that. I told him he was in love with his best friend, and after some brow-beating he stopped denying it.
I related that story to my dad over dinner last night, and he kept grinning at me like he knew something I didn't. Stupid grown-ups with their smug smiles and worldly knowledge.
All I know is that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" is a romantic way of saying that you miss someone to painful pieces. It's also a good cover up for the fact that suddenly insignificant irritations like missed or short phone calls and perceived indifference are suddenly much bigger deals than they should ever be.
Now off to the Wisconsin Love-Swing, which is way less dirty or exciting than you'd expect. Giving speeches in the arctic circle, while an amusing sitcom idea, is not my concept of a rollickin' good time.