Summertime and the living is....

It's been a great adventure here up north for the summer. As you can see, I don't have a lot of time to post. My cousin is go, go, go from dawn to dusk. It's amazing how much energy she has! She has three kids, two of them teenagers, and has to keep up with them all. Plus, she's a fitness instructor. We've been doing spin, yoga, and running. I don't know if I've lost weight, but my body feels better, though tired. Today, she's on a field trip with the little one, so I get the day to myself. I haven't worn a real bra in three weeks. It feels almost strange not to put on workout clothes for the day.

Like I said before, AA meetings up here are awesome. By meeting 3 (there are only 2 a week in this small town) everyone said hi to me when I came in and chatted with me afterwards. It's much better than living in the city where there's a meeting a minute and you hardly ever see the same folks. They are just so welcoming here. And they're trying to help me find an Al-Anon meeting for the family. My cousin's soon to be ex husband is an alcoholic, and she wants the kids to know Al-Anon is out there. I think it's a great idea, and would be great for her, too.

She drinks a lot, well, almost every night, and it doesn't bother me to see her do it. In fact, it reminds me why I don't want to drink again. The reactions of her kids make me sure I never want to drink in front of my kids (when I have them). Kids notice everything, and know when you're out of control. I just hope she can see from their perspective. It's hard to see your mom drink at all when your dad is such a drunk.

I just want to hug these kids, but they're not a hugging kind of group. They are very loving, though. The kids obviously love each other and their parents. They're just going through a really rough time right now, and so there's a lot of yelling. Teenagers can be harsh, too! They know how to cut to the bone. I feel sorry for my cousin because she bares the brunt of it, since her ex is living across town.

I just hope I can be a good and loving influence.

29 and counting

Had my 29th interview the other day, and it went just as well as the other 28. They want me to come in for interview number 30. But my dream job just opened up up north, and I'm praying they call me! It's for a premier psychiatric institution with researchers and clients. I would be so pleased to be there. Hopefully they call me for an interview.

I really like being up north for the summer. Its not as hot here, and I'm spending some real quality time with my cousin and her kids. Its also really nice to be out of the apartment. Dad is great, but I was struggling there. AA meetings here are fascinating. All backwoods rednecks (theres a dude who doesnt even wear a shirt) but I love it. I would move north in a heartbeat. I've always loved it here. I spent my summers up here, and holidays. It just makes me happy.

But I'm hesitant. Why? Adam. I want us to be together, but I cant put my life on hold for him. I have to go where the jobs are. But I wish we could make something work. It would help if he wanted it. But I dont even mention it anymore. My cousin is obsessed. She met him when we went down for a weekend and said, "you light up when he's around!" i didn't even think about it, but I do! It's kind of frustrating. He's hard to gauge. A few months ago he said he wasnt looking for anything, so I will hold that as the truth until he tells me differently. I just have to go on and make my own plans.

Fat sucks

Talking to Jennifer this morning about my upcoming 29th interview, and she said, "isn't that e day of your one year anniversary?" Oh yeah! It is! I didn't even think about it. So it appears I'll be home for it instead of up north. I'll have to find a good chip meeting to go to. I don't really know which one. Maybe I can convince Adam to take me. It would be nice to celebrate with friends.

I still have no idea how I'm going to celebrate. But I've got to do something. I suppose a nice dinner, but I'm starting to get paranoid about being fat. I'm back where I used to live this week, staying with Michael, and he told me I'm fat. "you're just jigglier than before." thanks. My mom told me I'm getting "sloppy." What do you expect from 4 months of horrid depression, unemployment, and anti-psychotics? Whatever. Weni got up north I'm going to be running a lot and hopefully eating well. I figure if I really try, I can drop 15 pounds in 2 months. I need to drop 30, but half is good. I can take it from there.

Ok, I might not get to update again till I get home on Tuesday. I go to finish my tattoo on Monday and then I'm back home, and then off to the north.

The app is in

I hit the button. I pressed send on my application to grad school and sent off my requests for transcripts and references. Now, it's up to me to pass the GRE and up to the school to decide whether they want me in their program. I've had contact with two of the professors, so hopefully they will recognize my name and let me join them in research-ville.

I'm so nervous, now. What if they say no? I suppose I would just have to try again next year. It's the only program that looks like it has what I want. It's a small field, and so there aren't that many options, plus it's just right here in the city. My nerves are all a mess.

"I knew it was coming," say Tom, one of my references. He said, "With your love of learning, I knew one day you would go back to school." I asked Michael to be a reference, since he's known me for a long time, and he said he wouldn't even have to lie, that he really thinks I'd be a good candidate. Jennifer is my third reference, and she gladly hopped aboard this crazy train. I promised them all a shout out on my graduation cap, whenever that happens.

Of course, as soon as I hit send an employer called me looking for an interview.

Dave

Dave was a nice guy. He really was. He was 19 and I was 17, and I don't remember how we met. I think through mutual friends. He was a punk rocker and had dyed black hair (he was a natural toe-head) and piercings back before that was cool. He wore Doc Martens and chains on his wallet. You know, he was leaning more towards the Goth end of punk, cause he liked make-up, too, but he was still punk. He introduced me to NoFx and other good punk music. See, at the time, I was still a big hippie. I was a Deadhead to the core, wearing my ripped jeans and Dead shirts. I smelled like Patchouli and sandalwood and wore a hemp necklace. It was the 90s.

But Dave was sweet. He liked me, a lot, and I thought it was pretty cool that he liked me. He also had drugs. He had a never-ending supply of pot, and we tried ecstasy together for the first time. Then we did it as much as we could. I was already doing a lot of LSD, and he didn't discourage me. So we just had sex and did drugs, and he could drive, which at the time I could not, so we hung out all over the place and went to the underage clubs in the city.

Because we never thought about protection, I got pregnant. I was stunned. I guess I just didn't think it could happen. I only found out because I couldn't stop throwing up, and I NEVER throw up. I went to the school clinic and she knew before I even took the test. My dad came and got me for the first time that school year, and I was in all sorts of trouble. It was November.

I didn't know what to do. I'm Catholic, and he was Atheist, but both of our parents just assumed we would get married and raise the baby. He proposed and I said yes. About a month in I shook out of my stunned silence and thought: really? A baby? I don't even have a high school diploma and both of us live with our parents! And the really messed up thing, that I have never admitted, is I didn't want to marry him (for a lot of reasons) because he was poor and he could never give me the life I thought I deserved. Only child syndrome, maybe, or just little rich girl, whatever it was, I realized a few things. I realized he wasn't the man for me, and that it was too early to have a baby.

Again, I didn't drive, so I asked him to take me to have an abortion. He didn't want to (he wanted the baby and to get married) but somehow I convinced him it was a bad idea. I remember every moment about that day, but for some reason I don't remember what happened after. I just know that by January I was back in school and he and I had broken up.

We're Facebook friends, now. He's got a good life and a beautiful wife, and I'm happy for him. Like I said, Dave is a good guy.

Digging in the boxes

I just spent the last hour and a half going through old photos and posting them on Facebook. Random stuff from high school and old family photos. My grandmother was a dame! There are some great ones of her, and I think (hope) I look a little like her. I never met her (well, I did, but she died 2 months after I was born). She's a legend in my family, and I always feel like I missed out on a really important relationship.

There are some fun ones, too, of a professor of mine in high school who died senior year. He was a great, great man, and really funny. I couldn't even bring myself to go to his funeral. I got high instead. I wish I would have gone to at least say something to his wife, but I never did. Ah, youth and drug abuse.

Speaking of which, all the pics of me I'm so stoned. My senior photo I'm obviously blitzed, and everything I wrote on my page was horribly inappropriate or just weird. I remember thinking: what the hell do I even have to say? Our senior pages were just shout outs to your friends, so I riled my roommate a bit (my favorite pastime) and said hi to my fiance at the time. Oh yeah, I was engaged senior year. Only for a little bit, and only cause I was pregnant at the time. Jesus. It's a miracle I made it out alive.

Babble

Yep, manic. I've moved on to coffee, now. There's no point in trying to pretend. I'm feeling awfully chatty and there's no one awake to chat with. Even Emily, who moved across the world, is still at work and can't chat. So I'm just sitting here Facebook stalking people. I bet I could call my mom and harass her. She's my go-to cause I know at 6:30am she's awake. I could also go drive to the 7:15 meeting, but I don't know if that's going to happen. Actually, maybe that's the best idea. But traffic will suck. Ah, I just want to email chat with someone. Maybe I can be an ass and wake Michael up again. It's 3am there, that's not too bad.

So instead, I'll talk to you, dear reader, if you're still here.