Long Distance Dating

I am going to spill out some word vomit over these next several paragraphs/bullets--whatever I decided them to be--and you best opt not to read. These words will be very raw. And quite straightforward. And horribly embarrassing.

If you have not by now equated Favorite Person to what society deems a boyfriend, my boyfriend, I will attempt to make this clear for you here:

Favorite Person = Boyfriend

Favorite Person--mystery he--can/should/will, going forward, be referred to as Boyfriend. FYI: There is zero percent of me that likes that term and/or plans to begin using it in public. The term is foreign. And finite. And encourages favoritism. Never being able to compete with the allstar suckups, I learned to vehemently dislike favoritism at a young age. But alas, I have come to accept by declaring my boyfriend as my favorite person, I am doing exactly what I dislike: favoritizing. (That is going to be a word tonight. So like it. Then find a way to apply it to your life.)

After our first 'real' quarrel Monday night, I feel obliged to write about something that has been plaguing my little soul for the past, at the very least, six months. I am a processor of all things... and I am finally able to tie-up my thoughts.

My parents maintained a long distance relationship until they were married. Until they were married. They never once lived in the same town until they were married. I am going to refrain from repeating that phrase again. And this was 30 plus years ago before cell phones, texting, email, ecards, and Skype. They wrote letters UNTIL THEY WERE MARRIED. The letter concept is not entirely alien to me, as much of my current relationship was grounded in the (lost) art of letter writing. But come on, a relationship based on letter writing and the occasional visit, no thank you.

So when I started writing this on Wednesday night, I had a lot of momentum. I felt the emotion--the pang in my soul coming to life through these words. I was satisfied with the direction this story was headed. Then abruptly, a change--suddenly my unique challenges, no longer seemed unique to this relationship, long distance or otherwise. It would appear I had created an internal master list--keys to a healthy relationship--based largely on the successes I barred witness to in my upbringing.

If I continued down the path I was headed, I would spill-out for you a wellness plan, something to judge myself against.

• Are we communicating? Check. 
• Do we maintain a good sense of humor? Check. 
• Are we compromising? Check. 

At the end, my wellness plan would spit-out a sort of relationship scorecard: B-plus.

There is much to be missed with the 'report card' method as a measurement of commitment, health, and love. This barely scratches the surface of the time and effort that goes into building a tender relationship. This wellness plan would replace authenticity, in that it would require managing and upkeep.

The dragons being slayed in the adventure we are embarking on are those of ego, selfishness, and unrealistic expectations.

It has been (and will continue to be) a major learning curve. I am realizing eye-rolling, spitefulness, and the silent treatment do not generally communicate love very well. And learning what to hold back is one of the greatest gifts I can give. He is learning texting me goodnight, hanging shelves, and cooking dinner are such powerful ways to communicate love to me. 

I had allowed myself to believe people were either dependent or independent. In doing so I missed the beautiful in-between of interdependency.

We need each other...
to care enough to pay attention.
to lovingly keep one another in check.
to admit when we could use a hand, an ear, or a shoulder.

This means a million tiny decisions to believe the best of one another and to always be part of the same team. And the only kind of fighting that works is when you are fighting for each other, not against.

It is only the beginning. The beginning of choosing love. Even when it is inconvenient.

Big Life, Little Victories

I started out having a dramatically bad day. And that sucks; I am not a fan of forecasting the day as a bad one before I even roll out of bed. I like mornings. They initiate new days, clean slates, unbroken-ness. (And they usually come with a cup—or four—of coffee!) I woke up at 5:45 AM to run. But I did not want to run. So l laid (or lied?) there aimlessly. That was a no good waste. Because when my second alarm sounded, I had not collected an extra hour of sleep or experienced that cardiovascular burn. Then I did not even shower because I just felt so lethargic. Not a pretty picture. I did proceed--in self-defense--to dress up extra fancy, hereby masking my surface layer… and maybe to hide a little beneath the surface too. 

I drove to work, listening to The Jillian Michaels Show the entire way. She berated me endlessly for my ability to make excuses. But eventually I excused myself as her points were, quite thankfully, directed at an audience of excuse makers. I still had the afternoon to run… 

From the minute I pulled into the parking lot of my office, I had little interest in actually being at work. And I was early. That was a win for the payer of my check. I was early because I left on time because I did not shower. That was a total win for water, a precious limited resource. I hope you caught that how that worked. I am so frequently late that, today, on-time was early. The secret: Do not shower. This tally was marked as a win for me.

I got situated in my upgraded* cube. Then I dove right into my grapefruit and filtered through emails. My emails were mostly boring. There were very new few tasks to accomplish. Mostly I felt stir-crazy… already--at 8:09 am. So I poked around on the internet for a bit.

Then I got to down and dirty with spreadsheets. I sorted through my Excel file and organized my YouTube tutorials. By doing this, I hoped, something would pop, unlike it had on Friday or Monday. My assignment: Learn how one creates multiple filters across different spreadsheets from one database. At 10:19 am, I ultimately concluded this was not possible. So I waddled--the result of no exercise and dressy but very uncomfortable shoes--into my boss’ office and informed him of my decision to ‘cut bait’ after 18 hours and 21 minutes of researching.

(Is cut bait used in every industry? If not, the phase is vastly underused.)

He did his typical whizzing around in my file… and in 16 minutes he had a solution. That was fabulous. Except for the part where I had very little idea what he did and was going to need to replicate it multiple times. I picked up the pace on the way back to my cubicle and tried to type up a process document for "our" new solution. In roughly 40 minutes, I had actually semi-figured it out. It was a grand feat. I felt a sense of some accomplishment. The day suddenly became filled roses and rainbows.

I am trying to approach life with less desire to wait for the beginning of a new day, week, month, year (gulp) to refresh. I need to control my non-stop brain from the drafting of ideal life scenarios. They are unrealistic. And I am living a generally happy life… so I should be more accepting of its authenticity.   

*If you are looking for full disclosure, technically my biggest feat of February 12, 2013 came very early this morning, in the form of a personal heater. You see my office building does not have heat. This has been an ongoing issue with my numbing body parts. But mostly my coworkers do not care because they sit in glamorous offices where royalty is bestowed upon them. Royalty comes in the form of a wall-to-wall window and a heater in the government contracting world. Well being the generally likeable person I am only person sitting in a cubicle, I was gifted my own personal heater when the first one became available. This morning that happened, circa 8:13 am.

Homeward Bound

I went home this weekend. It would have been really nice to see some of my (parent's) neighbors. And even though it was part of my plan, that did not happen. I pretty much gave up on the idea Friday afternoon when I mapped out my mission. A mission that could only happen in the suburbs. A mission in need of accomplishing before returning to the office on Monday.

The mission:

1. I had to finish Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. City life is fabulous, more than. However, it comes with many non-reading late nights and several more distractions. I needed the comfy couch, a fire place, and a calm, quiet house to bulldoze through the final parts of this bizarre novel. Finished.  
2. In an effort to save money, I wanted frozen berries and olive oil from Costco. Purchased.
3. I needed to venture to Target to buy cheap-o curtains and sheets. I needed to convince my mom to tag along as a voice of reason. Bought. She silenced my indecision and ensured I came home with something. And two days in, I am quite happy. For the past four plus months, I have been sleeping on flannel... and my roommates--they are great, but they like the heat on 80 degrees. So even when the temperature drops to 19 degrees (outdoors), with my curtains, blinds, and window open, I am the saturated in sweat variety of H-O-T. 
4. Finalize the homemade steal-each-and-every-yummy-recipe-from-Ma-and-Pa cookbook I received as a birthday present, oh something like six months ago. I also need to print out some good looking my style recipes while at home... because I am pretty sure that is not the main purpose of the company. I have been cooking all sorts of delicious vegan meals. You (audience) would be proud, of the cooking part that is. Task completed.
5. Avoid cooking. And eat mega delicious home cooked meals. Sated. There is nothing quite like packing on five pounds in a weekend.
6. Spend quality time with my youngest brother, C.A.H... who is 17 and awesome and hard working and inspiring and talented. And is going to be leaving me very soon for college. Check. He took me on a date! There was two hours of focused one-on-one time, filled with fluent conversation (and not a cell phone ring). How sweet is that?
7. And sleep. I needed sleep. LOTS. My crabbiness has been getting the best of me lately. Rested.

So really, I am just rambling here. That pretty much sums up my weekend. I apologize that I cannot make it any more interesting than this, but some weekends are just like that. A whole lot of nothing with the people you love.