1. To be completely honest, when I think about tax season, I primarily think of really cheap cheeseburgers at McDonald's. The idea that I am responsible, as an adult, to get things like forms and receipts together and organize my income and worth the way the government expects me to upsets me. If it's so important to you, government, that these things be filed a certain way by a certain date - than YOU should do my taxes for me.
I'm not really all that torn up about this, but it is the 9th of April, and I am just now getting around to filing my extension paperwork so that I can get my taxes done at some point in the next few months. I need the money that I should be getting back this year. No doubt about that. But its the last thing on my mind right now in the mist of everything else that is going on in my life. And its unaccounted for money, so I am not dying without it right now. Hence making the process of doing my taxes seem unnecessary.
2. I decided not to date you quite a few months ago. I had a nice time with you for a minute. It's one of the reason I was unsure about committing to the relationship I am currently in. But that's the thing. I am in another relationship now. And even if I weren't, I still made a very conscience decision to no longer date you. I guess it's fine that you persistently tell me how great I look every time you see me. I do find it a bit unnecessary that you text me to say goodbye every day that you are here in the store, because you wanted to make sure that I know you want me to have a great week. I guess I am just a little confused by your motives. I am aware that you too are now in a relationship. So there is nothing to be gained by your attempts at communication with me because I will continue to feel guilty about blowing you off, and you'll continue to feel rejected.
3. There are some people in my life right now that I absolutely adore, and wish I were closer to. The people that don't know me all that well, but care enough to try and figure me out. I am blessed these people are around, and some day I will be together enough to figure them out to. I hope they stick around long enough to learn that its not that I don't care, I just have some massively tall walls up around myself. And it takes just as much effort for me to peak my head through to see them, as it does to tear them down and get to me.
Lastly,
Peter Gray. Tag. You're it.
4.05.2011
Magic Johnson Smoked Out Aids
Sometimes I am really awkward. Like crawl out of my own skin awkward. I hate days that end like this. I felt all morning like things were good, and I was secure. Then, out of no where, this crushing realization of my awkwardness.
I laugh all the time that I am broken. Because it's hilarious. I never ever do anything right. I do everything a little right, and always with good intention. But I've taken the hardest road, or said too much, or done too little. I watch myself do these things too, over and over again. It's like watching myself on video, but in slow motion. Its like that Mitch Hedberg golfing joke "if you're gonna hit someone you are supposed to scream 'fore', but I was too busying mumbling 'there ain't no way that's gonna hit em'". That's how I feel watching my slow speed compilation video of disaster after disaster.
I'm not trying to be all mopey and feel sorry for myself. I just want you to know, that I know what this looks like. I'm not a stupid person, I'm just broken. I am sure some point in my life I will be less broken, I don't think I'm doomed or things won't get better, but for the time being I'm just awkward. Awkward and broken.
Specifically what is going on that is making me feel this way? I'm sure my monthly surge of 'crazy-mones', as my manfriend calls them, isn't helping anything. But I think most of it is just the aftermath of a couple intense weeks. I've been running hard again these days, burning the candle from both ends. Work is intense for me. It's intense for me because I walk this fine line between being a hard worker that puts effort in to what the do, and someone who becomes so emotionally involved with everything I'm doing I make myself crazy and worked up over things, that at the end of the day, are just tasks. They are just things to get done. THINGS. No one lives or dies if I sell a flugelhorn.
And then there is everything else. Family, friends, boyfriends, apartments, cats, groceries, television, money, moving days, wedding days, sick people, drunk people, stupid people, girls. 'Everything else' is a whole lot of things. But the important things, more significant than flugelhorns things. And I never seem to do these things right either. It's exhausting being aware of how not right I do things most of the time.
But, alas, I have to go to work, I have to do those tasks. As far as the important things, I'm going to have to just continue being awkward until I'm not anymore. The people that are close to me are constantly subjected to my awkwardness. And I avoid everyone else, which is awkward in and of itself. That's just me right now.
"Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you."
-Dr. Suess
I laugh all the time that I am broken. Because it's hilarious. I never ever do anything right. I do everything a little right, and always with good intention. But I've taken the hardest road, or said too much, or done too little. I watch myself do these things too, over and over again. It's like watching myself on video, but in slow motion. Its like that Mitch Hedberg golfing joke "if you're gonna hit someone you are supposed to scream 'fore', but I was too busying mumbling 'there ain't no way that's gonna hit em'". That's how I feel watching my slow speed compilation video of disaster after disaster.
I'm not trying to be all mopey and feel sorry for myself. I just want you to know, that I know what this looks like. I'm not a stupid person, I'm just broken. I am sure some point in my life I will be less broken, I don't think I'm doomed or things won't get better, but for the time being I'm just awkward. Awkward and broken.
Specifically what is going on that is making me feel this way? I'm sure my monthly surge of 'crazy-mones', as my manfriend calls them, isn't helping anything. But I think most of it is just the aftermath of a couple intense weeks. I've been running hard again these days, burning the candle from both ends. Work is intense for me. It's intense for me because I walk this fine line between being a hard worker that puts effort in to what the do, and someone who becomes so emotionally involved with everything I'm doing I make myself crazy and worked up over things, that at the end of the day, are just tasks. They are just things to get done. THINGS. No one lives or dies if I sell a flugelhorn.
And then there is everything else. Family, friends, boyfriends, apartments, cats, groceries, television, money, moving days, wedding days, sick people, drunk people, stupid people, girls. 'Everything else' is a whole lot of things. But the important things, more significant than flugelhorns things. And I never seem to do these things right either. It's exhausting being aware of how not right I do things most of the time.
But, alas, I have to go to work, I have to do those tasks. As far as the important things, I'm going to have to just continue being awkward until I'm not anymore. The people that are close to me are constantly subjected to my awkwardness. And I avoid everyone else, which is awkward in and of itself. That's just me right now.
"Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you."
-Dr. Suess
4.02.2011
The Wine Glass is Half Full
I'm not a terribly negative person, and though I am sure there is room
for more positivity in anyone’s life, I also believe that blind
optimism does more harm than good.
I have hit a new level of stress in my life, which is saying something
- I have had some less than great luck in the past 23 years. But I
feel like right now, this is the worst of things. And bits and pieces
of the puzzle will fall into place hopefully sooner than later, but
time never seems to be on my side these days. As much as I
desperately want to put on my happy face and say "the sun WILL come
out tomorrow!", that doesn't restock my freezer with Banquet frozen
dinners, or keep my cell phone from getting shut off. And even when
I put all those materialistic/money woes aside, I am still
left with a shaky foundation of not knowing if anything in my life
will ever be the same.
My family is undoubtedly the strongest support system I have. Always
have been, always will be. My brothers are rock solid in any
situation. And even if they aren't, they keep it together long enough
to ensure the rest of us are okay. My mother makes me feel like I
have nothing worth bitching about, this woman has had nothing but bad
news for the past 2 years and pushes through anything stronger than
any woman I have ever known. My sister - bless her 19 year old heart.
She is so full of love and unjaded optimism, immediately pushing her
own fears aside to see what can be done to make any situation better.
"It's when you cry just a little, and you laugh in the middle that
you've made it." -Jason Mraz
My father has taught me more than anyone else that laughter makes
anything better. He's up against a lot right now, but his comedic
timing has been spot on since this started. He never downplays the
situation, but he'll find the funniest part of it, and make you smile
no matter how impossible that may seem at the time.
We are all going to be okay. I am going to be okay. It's not going
to be easy. I'm exhausted physically and mentally like I've never
been before. Work seems to be more stressful than usual, my
relationship isn’t the most ideal circumstance at times, and having a
fast approaching moving day hangs heavy over my head always. But food
always seems to find a way into my belly, and I manage to be at work every day
when I am supposed to be (roughly) without a car of my own. My friends have
been outstanding, they keep me laughing. And the boyfriend's kisses are just as
butterfly inducing as they were 3 months ago.
for more positivity in anyone’s life, I also believe that blind
optimism does more harm than good.
I have hit a new level of stress in my life, which is saying something
- I have had some less than great luck in the past 23 years. But I
feel like right now, this is the worst of things. And bits and pieces
of the puzzle will fall into place hopefully sooner than later, but
time never seems to be on my side these days. As much as I
desperately want to put on my happy face and say "the sun WILL come
out tomorrow!", that doesn't restock my freezer with Banquet frozen
dinners, or keep my cell phone from getting shut off. And even when
I put all those materialistic/money woes aside, I am still
left with a shaky foundation of not knowing if anything in my life
will ever be the same.
My family is undoubtedly the strongest support system I have. Always
have been, always will be. My brothers are rock solid in any
situation. And even if they aren't, they keep it together long enough
to ensure the rest of us are okay. My mother makes me feel like I
have nothing worth bitching about, this woman has had nothing but bad
news for the past 2 years and pushes through anything stronger than
any woman I have ever known. My sister - bless her 19 year old heart.
She is so full of love and unjaded optimism, immediately pushing her
own fears aside to see what can be done to make any situation better.
"It's when you cry just a little, and you laugh in the middle that
you've made it." -Jason Mraz
My father has taught me more than anyone else that laughter makes
anything better. He's up against a lot right now, but his comedic
timing has been spot on since this started. He never downplays the
situation, but he'll find the funniest part of it, and make you smile
no matter how impossible that may seem at the time.
We are all going to be okay. I am going to be okay. It's not going
to be easy. I'm exhausted physically and mentally like I've never
been before. Work seems to be more stressful than usual, my
relationship isn’t the most ideal circumstance at times, and having a
fast approaching moving day hangs heavy over my head always. But food
always seems to find a way into my belly, and I manage to be at work every day
when I am supposed to be (roughly) without a car of my own. My friends have
been outstanding, they keep me laughing. And the boyfriend's kisses are just as
butterfly inducing as they were 3 months ago.
It could always be worse. Maybe I don’t need to be the most optimistic person,
as long as I always keep my perspective.
3.17.2011
Hey Chelsea.
Females are awful, just plain awful. And I am not discounting myself in this generalization. Because I've done it, I've been there. I have come on to men with no regard for their relationships. In fact I used to have this motto (still kind of do) that I'm not in his relationship, it isn't my responsibility to stay faithful for him. I have seduced and used men for my own immediate gratification, and then turned around to leave them with the pieces of the broken relationship with the girl that truly cares about them.
So why the change of heart now? Maybe I have learned my lessons from those previous experiences and matured as a result of having my heart broken time and time again. Maybe I have invested too much time and energy into the "other woman" scenarios of my life, and have learned that a cheater is never going to leave his girlfriend for me. Why would he, I am putting out anyways. But now that I am in a relationship with someone that I really truly care about it is bringing to light how terrifying the idea that some skanky version of my 19 year old self is going to put my boyfriend in that same situation I have put men in so many times before.
I guess it all comes down to the trust you have in your own relationship. And I don't want to be one of those girls that blames the other woman, because deep down I know if faithlessness happens it's not about who it was with, but who did the cheating. I firmly believe that humans, by nature, are programmed to want what they can't have. I have seen it happen every time I've gone a long time being single, and having no one show interest in me. And then the second I attach myself to another being, men come out of the wood work and want to take me out and romance me. It's always the most frustrating circumstance, but I am pretty good about making it clear I am in a relationship and uninterested. (I have to make an effort to do this, because my instinct is always to welcome attention).
I find that guys aren't as good about establishing these boundaries with the girls that appear once they find themselves in a relationship. And we females need to be told some things very clearly and directly. And the fact that you are in a relationship, have no interest in dating me, and want me to be respectful to your status is one of those things. Maybe even then girls will be girls and continue to have no respect for themselves, or other females and pursue the taken anyways. But at least I would feel like the man is standing up for our relationship. And maybe that would ease some of my insecurities.
I am lucky to have a great line of communication with said boyfriend. And issues like this dissolve pretty quickly because we address most everything head on, and leave little to be swept under the rug. But this isn't a one time fix for me, unfortunately. The jealousy issue that I have is going to have to fall into the relationship maintenance category indefinitely. And I want to keep my feelings at bay and manageable as much as he wants me too. But I'm a girl. I'm awful. Chances are it will get the best of me again, and chances are I'll just write about it here.
So why the change of heart now? Maybe I have learned my lessons from those previous experiences and matured as a result of having my heart broken time and time again. Maybe I have invested too much time and energy into the "other woman" scenarios of my life, and have learned that a cheater is never going to leave his girlfriend for me. Why would he, I am putting out anyways. But now that I am in a relationship with someone that I really truly care about it is bringing to light how terrifying the idea that some skanky version of my 19 year old self is going to put my boyfriend in that same situation I have put men in so many times before.
I guess it all comes down to the trust you have in your own relationship. And I don't want to be one of those girls that blames the other woman, because deep down I know if faithlessness happens it's not about who it was with, but who did the cheating. I firmly believe that humans, by nature, are programmed to want what they can't have. I have seen it happen every time I've gone a long time being single, and having no one show interest in me. And then the second I attach myself to another being, men come out of the wood work and want to take me out and romance me. It's always the most frustrating circumstance, but I am pretty good about making it clear I am in a relationship and uninterested. (I have to make an effort to do this, because my instinct is always to welcome attention).
I find that guys aren't as good about establishing these boundaries with the girls that appear once they find themselves in a relationship. And we females need to be told some things very clearly and directly. And the fact that you are in a relationship, have no interest in dating me, and want me to be respectful to your status is one of those things. Maybe even then girls will be girls and continue to have no respect for themselves, or other females and pursue the taken anyways. But at least I would feel like the man is standing up for our relationship. And maybe that would ease some of my insecurities.
I am lucky to have a great line of communication with said boyfriend. And issues like this dissolve pretty quickly because we address most everything head on, and leave little to be swept under the rug. But this isn't a one time fix for me, unfortunately. The jealousy issue that I have is going to have to fall into the relationship maintenance category indefinitely. And I want to keep my feelings at bay and manageable as much as he wants me too. But I'm a girl. I'm awful. Chances are it will get the best of me again, and chances are I'll just write about it here.
2.26.2011
Beautiful Things : A Picture Collection Vol. 1
I spend a lot of time clicking around the internet. More time than I would like to admit. But over the past few years I have been collecting images and gifs that make me happy, for one reason or another. I've decided it was about time I did something with them. And if for nothing more than clearing some space on my hard drive. Here is a collection on things that mean something to me. Feel free to collect your favorites, and send others you love to me. The internet's greatest feature is the ability to share things that stimulate us with one another. So, be stimulated and I promise I will have my own words and pictures up for you soon. These may be just the inspiration I need.
Filming the original MGM lion.
2.16.2011
Kissing and Telling, and Then Forgetting.
I've been debating for the past week whether or not I should write this blog. My hesitation comes from the fact that I may come off as a Skanky Mcskankerton. But as I sat down to write a blog tonight, with little to no inspiration, this popped back into my head and I've decided to stop fighting it, and just get it out of me.
I have always enjoyed being intimate with men. Not necessarily sex, every time in every situation. But I love the physical affection and the validation you feel when you get to makeout with someone who makes your knees weak. I recently saw a commercial on tv that claims the average person has 18 first kisses in their lifetime. This made me panic. Because I think I had 18 first kisses within a year of my first ever kiss when I was 14. So I started thinking back to all of the men, and some women, that I have kissed. And here's the thing, I can't remember.
I don't know why my memory is so bad, or if it just specifically blocks out certain things, but when it comes to my romantic history all I can seem to remember are the feelings and not the people. For instance, I remember that I dated this guy named Jason for a short while. For the life of me, I can't remember his last name. But I can remember the first time he kissed me, after dinner, on a Lake Shore Drive outside of his apartment building. Then there's Staffort. I remember his name, because come on, it's Staffort. But I have no idea what he looked like. All I can picture in my head when I think of him is Bruce Willis. And that can't be right. What I do remember is his hand on the small of my back when I jumped up to the microphone and started signing "Mr. Jones" with him at the bar.
Maybe I am so in love with the feeling of romance and affection that it is the only thing I hold onto after these encounters. It makes me feel bad for the other involved party, but at least it's about how you made me feel vs. who you were, where you were from, or how much money you spent on me.
I've done a lot of dating in the past 2 years since Andy and I broke up. I told myself I was looking for another relationship, but as it would turn out, I wasn't. I was just looking to surpass the standard for first kisses with flying colors. I believe I have succeeded.
I only kiss one boy now, and that's okay with me too. Because now I get the feelings, and I have a chance to really get to know him. And it's harder to forget someone who never really leaves your mind.
Yours Truly,
Skanky McSkankerton
I have always enjoyed being intimate with men. Not necessarily sex, every time in every situation. But I love the physical affection and the validation you feel when you get to makeout with someone who makes your knees weak. I recently saw a commercial on tv that claims the average person has 18 first kisses in their lifetime. This made me panic. Because I think I had 18 first kisses within a year of my first ever kiss when I was 14. So I started thinking back to all of the men, and some women, that I have kissed. And here's the thing, I can't remember.
I don't know why my memory is so bad, or if it just specifically blocks out certain things, but when it comes to my romantic history all I can seem to remember are the feelings and not the people. For instance, I remember that I dated this guy named Jason for a short while. For the life of me, I can't remember his last name. But I can remember the first time he kissed me, after dinner, on a Lake Shore Drive outside of his apartment building. Then there's Staffort. I remember his name, because come on, it's Staffort. But I have no idea what he looked like. All I can picture in my head when I think of him is Bruce Willis. And that can't be right. What I do remember is his hand on the small of my back when I jumped up to the microphone and started signing "Mr. Jones" with him at the bar.
Maybe I am so in love with the feeling of romance and affection that it is the only thing I hold onto after these encounters. It makes me feel bad for the other involved party, but at least it's about how you made me feel vs. who you were, where you were from, or how much money you spent on me.
I've done a lot of dating in the past 2 years since Andy and I broke up. I told myself I was looking for another relationship, but as it would turn out, I wasn't. I was just looking to surpass the standard for first kisses with flying colors. I believe I have succeeded.
I only kiss one boy now, and that's okay with me too. Because now I get the feelings, and I have a chance to really get to know him. And it's harder to forget someone who never really leaves your mind.
Yours Truly,
Skanky McSkankerton
2.05.2011
How Much Distance Is Long Distance?
Don't mind me as I get a little 'Carrie Bradshaw' in this post, but this is something that has been on the forefront of my mind the last couple of days. And since I have been lazy about blogging, I felt it was the appropriate time and topic for a new post.
As some of you may or may not know, I have recently embarked on a new relationship. This is the first exclusive relationship I have been in in years. The last real notable relationship being Dan the Man. And this relationship is only notable to me, seeing as though he, to this day, will never ever admit we were actually dating. I digress...
So there is this new man in my life. (And sorry, baby. You knew it was only a matter of time before you ended up in a blog). He is wonderful in every sense that one could be wonderful. He is the funniest man I have ever dated. He is literally 'milk coming out of your nose' funny. He is sweet, kind, and gentle. He has never made me feel rushed, or impatient, or scared. He always says the perfectly wrong thing at the exactly wrong time, but it's constant and genuine. His intentions are good, and he is above all else, honest with me about everything. Our relationship, from the beginning, has been built on an unreal ability to communicate with each other. We had a rocky start to the relationship, and got through it because night after night for weeks we would sit on the phone and talk about every last thing we were feeling and scared of and excited about. I am so grateful that all of this waiting for another great man to come around has been for him. He is truly an amazing guy.
But if that is how this blog ended, all butterflies and rainbows, I wouldn't be writing it in the first place.
We have been dating, officially, for just over a month now. And we are both learning some things about the relationship that weren't very clear in the beginning. The largest of these things being the literal distance between the two of us. It may not seem like much, and I don't want to 'woe is me' like I have it as bad as great lovers separated by world wars, but he is a good hour and a half away from me. And with my transportation situation being what it is (I don't drive. At all. Anywhere. Period) it's been entirely up to him to get back and forth to my town, to pick me up to take me out to his shows, and to drive out late nights after a gig to spend a few short hours sleeping in my bed before I have to get up and go to work. While we are trying to figure out the easiest way to facilitate getting to one another any chance we can, I am left to wonder how much distance it takes to qualify as a "long distance relationship"?
(That was so Carrie of me, I am literally grinning with pride on this side of the computer.)
I've been all mopey and depressed about our situation, particularly this week, as I've been sick and tucked in to bed for 3 days. I truly felt the distance between us more than ever, as a snow storm, and every other element that could exist seemed to stand between myself and my man with a cup of chicken noodle soup in hand, all week long. It didn't help anything that I spent these hours curled up in comforters watching my favorite 90's sitcom 'Mad About You' and knowing Paul Buchman would get to Jamie in a snowstorm if she were sick. But then I floated back down to reality and realized that though my boyfriend is a comedian, and has very jew-y Paul Reiser esq hair, he isn't a fictional character from any television series or movie, despite what I may want to believe.
So after a very awkward conversation (on my end) last night, which consisted mainly of me sighing heavily and saying "I don't know" over and over again we have resigned to the fact that we are, indeed, in a long distance relationship. And we (mainly I) need to adjust our (my) expectations accordingly.
My brother Sean told me something once, which has turned out to be some of the best and worst advice I had ever gotten in my life. It was after a fight between an ex and I, who was at the time refusing to drive the 45 minutes from Joliet to Aurora to spend the night before my 20th birthday with me. This leading into one of our 200 breakups. I had called Sean crying hysterically, much like I had done over this same boy time and time again. And Sean told me that any guy who wasn't willing to walk 50 miles through a snow storm to get to me, no matter what the occasion was, wasn't worth my time.
This advice has helped me weed through quite a few bad seeds in the past. I have stopped wasting my time on men who aren't willing to waste their time on me. But then you have these situations like the one I am in now, where in a literal snow storm I am expecting more from someone who does genuinely care about me, they just can't always get to me when I want them there. Hence making this piece of advice no longer applicable. But it's hard to separate that thought that I am worth the impossible journey through a blizzard, because that is the standard I have held men to ever since.
It is what it is. This relationship is already seeming to be one of the healthier, happier ones I have had in my life. And it is typical Katie Keller to find something to bitch about just a month in. But we feel what we feel, regardless of whether or not it is validated by others. I am going to be sad every now and again that my boyfriend isn't just down the street. And that when I come home from a bad day at work, he will most likely be on the other side of the world making people laugh. I just need to be patient, and most importantly grateful that that funny man is going to get home and call me and be MY boyfriend, regardless of how much time passes between nights of falling asleep in each other's arms.
As some of you may or may not know, I have recently embarked on a new relationship. This is the first exclusive relationship I have been in in years. The last real notable relationship being Dan the Man. And this relationship is only notable to me, seeing as though he, to this day, will never ever admit we were actually dating. I digress...
So there is this new man in my life. (And sorry, baby. You knew it was only a matter of time before you ended up in a blog). He is wonderful in every sense that one could be wonderful. He is the funniest man I have ever dated. He is literally 'milk coming out of your nose' funny. He is sweet, kind, and gentle. He has never made me feel rushed, or impatient, or scared. He always says the perfectly wrong thing at the exactly wrong time, but it's constant and genuine. His intentions are good, and he is above all else, honest with me about everything. Our relationship, from the beginning, has been built on an unreal ability to communicate with each other. We had a rocky start to the relationship, and got through it because night after night for weeks we would sit on the phone and talk about every last thing we were feeling and scared of and excited about. I am so grateful that all of this waiting for another great man to come around has been for him. He is truly an amazing guy.
But if that is how this blog ended, all butterflies and rainbows, I wouldn't be writing it in the first place.
We have been dating, officially, for just over a month now. And we are both learning some things about the relationship that weren't very clear in the beginning. The largest of these things being the literal distance between the two of us. It may not seem like much, and I don't want to 'woe is me' like I have it as bad as great lovers separated by world wars, but he is a good hour and a half away from me. And with my transportation situation being what it is (I don't drive. At all. Anywhere. Period) it's been entirely up to him to get back and forth to my town, to pick me up to take me out to his shows, and to drive out late nights after a gig to spend a few short hours sleeping in my bed before I have to get up and go to work. While we are trying to figure out the easiest way to facilitate getting to one another any chance we can, I am left to wonder how much distance it takes to qualify as a "long distance relationship"?
(That was so Carrie of me, I am literally grinning with pride on this side of the computer.)
I've been all mopey and depressed about our situation, particularly this week, as I've been sick and tucked in to bed for 3 days. I truly felt the distance between us more than ever, as a snow storm, and every other element that could exist seemed to stand between myself and my man with a cup of chicken noodle soup in hand, all week long. It didn't help anything that I spent these hours curled up in comforters watching my favorite 90's sitcom 'Mad About You' and knowing Paul Buchman would get to Jamie in a snowstorm if she were sick. But then I floated back down to reality and realized that though my boyfriend is a comedian, and has very jew-y Paul Reiser esq hair, he isn't a fictional character from any television series or movie, despite what I may want to believe.
So after a very awkward conversation (on my end) last night, which consisted mainly of me sighing heavily and saying "I don't know" over and over again we have resigned to the fact that we are, indeed, in a long distance relationship. And we (mainly I) need to adjust our (my) expectations accordingly.
My brother Sean told me something once, which has turned out to be some of the best and worst advice I had ever gotten in my life. It was after a fight between an ex and I, who was at the time refusing to drive the 45 minutes from Joliet to Aurora to spend the night before my 20th birthday with me. This leading into one of our 200 breakups. I had called Sean crying hysterically, much like I had done over this same boy time and time again. And Sean told me that any guy who wasn't willing to walk 50 miles through a snow storm to get to me, no matter what the occasion was, wasn't worth my time.
This advice has helped me weed through quite a few bad seeds in the past. I have stopped wasting my time on men who aren't willing to waste their time on me. But then you have these situations like the one I am in now, where in a literal snow storm I am expecting more from someone who does genuinely care about me, they just can't always get to me when I want them there. Hence making this piece of advice no longer applicable. But it's hard to separate that thought that I am worth the impossible journey through a blizzard, because that is the standard I have held men to ever since.
It is what it is. This relationship is already seeming to be one of the healthier, happier ones I have had in my life. And it is typical Katie Keller to find something to bitch about just a month in. But we feel what we feel, regardless of whether or not it is validated by others. I am going to be sad every now and again that my boyfriend isn't just down the street. And that when I come home from a bad day at work, he will most likely be on the other side of the world making people laugh. I just need to be patient, and most importantly grateful that that funny man is going to get home and call me and be MY boyfriend, regardless of how much time passes between nights of falling asleep in each other's arms.
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