What if...

What if things work with dr soc? Really work, like happily ever after work? Awesome right? He does and says all the right things. He makes me laugh. We're both falling in love with each other (Oh lets just admit that I am, I just haven't said anything yet for fear of not hearing it back), we have the same mindset on a lot of things, and it's like we have the same future picture painted in our heads. Sometimes I wonder holy crap, could this be any more aligned?

However, he isn't in his dream job (to say the least), and he wants to be in in a different field. Which I support because I see how frustrated he is currently and it sucks. And I want him to be happy and content with his position. So he's looking around like everyone else in the country is looking. (I'm poking around for full time positions as well because school won't last forever and I need some sort of income.) But his new position wherever and whenever it ends up being is going to relocate him.

So where do I stand in that? Do I even get one and if so when? Even though we're a couple, we're not a joined entity. He knows he could do a switch nowish because he doesn't have the family obligation or solid ties to Lexington. But I do. I'm not saying I'll never leave here, but I'm also not ready to think about the possibility of leaving either.

There are so many "what ifs" right now. I know I should be having this conversation with him and not the blogosphere. But it's too soon for that. Where's he going to go? Am I a factor in this choice? What if he asks me to go with him? Can I move again for another guy? What if he doesn't ask me? How bad would that heartache be? So many what ifs. Breaking my engagement completely changed my outlook on things. All things. And I can't help but wonder about that "if" and how big an impact things will or will not have.

I have the possibility of my dreams coming true. I've also got the possibility of getting my heart broken again. I can't rush either, no mater the outcome. (though if it's the latter, I would like it to happen sooner rather than later in order to heal sooner) But patience has never been my strong suit, so I start wondering what if and every possible situation to go along with it. And there's really not enough room in my head all of this.

Happy Anniv...oh wait.

Here's where I was last year:

Virgina Beach sunbathing, trying not to think about my non-wedding day
(naps and wine helped)

I was remarkably serene that day, considering how disappointed I was. But I saw the silver lining and at some point tweeted this: "nap on the beach. WAY better then getting married to the wrong guy."
(However, the next day I broke down because I think I was trying so hard to be remarkably serene the day before.)

This year I'm way better. It has crossed my mind a few times, but it's more along the lines of a wisp of a thought then an all depression. Plus this year I have a boyfriend which removes the sting of at the time were shattered dreams.

So happy anniversary to me. Happy anniversary of not making the biggest mistake of my life. Happy anniversary to being smart enough to know I didn't want to be a divorce statistic. Happy anniversary to me for being strong!

Stages

There are apparently 5 to 7 different stages of dating, depending on which google search link you choose. But I happen to know of only a few different stages, because I have reached these w/dr soc:

1. The airport stage: yep, he was going to pick me up from the airport when I got back from Napa. Except that my connecting flight was late and I missed my flight home by 20 minutes, so I ended up catching the first flight out the next morning and my mom picked me up from that plane ride foiling our first airport pick up stage. Airport stage: check!
2. The holiday stage: we had a Sunday night date and it happened to be Easter evening. When he said it was an Easter date I said "hey look at that, we're already spending the holiday's together!" And we'll be spending the 4th of July together as well, which the best holiday ever. So holidays, check!
3. The meeting friend/family stage: he has met my sister and few of my closest friends all who approve. I've met some of his friends/coworkers (no idea if they approve of me but maybe those things don't mater to him). And oh yeah, we've met each other's parents. (remember my big girl pants search 2 weeks ago?) I'm meeting more of his family in another month at a family wedding. Meeting friends and family stage: check-ish!
4. And the appliance stage: while an indicator of how solid the relationship is, I do not approve of the appliance/practical gift stage until the 2nd gift giving opportunity after 2 full years of marriage. There was talk of getting me a collapsible crate for Bailey for my birthday, but I sorta already bought that and keep it at his place.... So we'll see when July rolls around what gift he presents (it better not be heart shaped jewelry either. I'm not 15). Appliance stage: no check (yet/maybe/we'll see).

Word Association

Me: Apparently there's nothing quite like herpes on a car.
Dr Soc: What?
Me: Oh. Wait. I mean glitter on a car. Yeah, nothing like glitter on a car. It messes up the paint pretty bad apparently.
Dr Soc: So how did that become herpes?
Me: Glitter is the herpes of crafts. So I made the connection in my head but the connection didn't make it out from there. So hence: herpes on a car.
Dr Soc: Oh well that makes sense. But you might not want to forget that part when you say that out loud, or you're going to have this conversation again.
Me: True. But I bet there nothing quite like herpes on a car either.

I Don't Exist

When my sister and I were both engaged, neither of us lived with our parents. But we had both come home for Christmas, and my sister didn't have a house key anymore. I asked her why not, and she told me she gave it up, "because I don't live there anymore." I responded, "So? I don't live there either and I still have my key."

Good thing I did too, because 7 months later it made oozing my stuff home during the break up much easier. And now I have no intention of leaving my parent's house becasue life here rocks. (seriously, not leaving (well, unless there is an engagement ring that is).) My stuff's all over the place and the dog pretty much rules the house, so it's fairly obvious that I live there. But when you look at the family photos on the mantle, it's my sister's graduation and wedding pictures in the frames.

The uc pics had my ex in them, so those had to come down (note to self: this degree don't take pictures with the SO. I mean, I'm not walking so there probably won't be any pictures anyway, but still, note to self). And well, the latter mentioned pictures are self explanatory as to why I don't have those either.

I'm in the family wedding picture, but it's not my picture. And there's another family photo with all four of us in it, sort of propped up. But I look like crap in it, so I don't even want it up there. Which explains why I don't want pictures of me running either, I look a fright in those. But even though we're a family of four, it kinda looks like there's only one kid.

At least one kid who did something. I'm just the other daughter. I'm the one without any bragging rights.

The Widom of Age

At 17, I knew my boyfriend wasn't forever.

Pretty mature for a 17 year old if I do say so for myself. I knew college was my chance to leave Lexington and come hell or high water, I was going and I wasn't staying in town for anyone. Not even a boyfriend. (Eventually I came home and I'm happy about that. But I had to choose to live here as an adult for it to be the best decision for me.)

However, a few months later when I was 18 and had a new boyfriend in college, clearly, that was totally forever. Cause you know, I had the wisdom of age on my side.

Snort.

Lets just say that didn't work out either.

Ortho Try Again

When it was time for the annual woman's appointment, I wanted to switch birth controls. For a few reasons but mainly, it was making my skin worse so most of my reasons were vain. (I have fairly good skin, and you can't blame a girl for playing up her attributes.)

So I went back on ortho-tri something, even though that was I was on a year ago and I hated it with the fire of a 1000 suns. I was apprehensive about it and I told the dr that, but since it was a much lower dose of the original I was on, it was worth a shot.

Yeah. No. I forgot I know my body better then a dr I've seen once. Because I fucking. hate. ortho-whatever it is. Hate hate hate. Flames hate. Hate. You see my point?

My dr friend told me there are basically 2 types of pills, ones that abate your normal cycle, and others mimic and intensify. Ortho is one of the latter, so crap. I've always been a little (snort) moody to go with the ebbs and flows of a woman's reproductive system. But the kind of moody I am right now is ridonkulous.

For example, I was in a chatty good mood when I got home from school. Half an hour later, I snapped over something petty and my father hid due to my wrath. I calmed down and made us lunch, but then in another 2 hours when my firewall settings wouldn't let me pay a bill online, I screamed at the computer screen and then burst into tears.

This? That right there? Is NOT. GOOD.

I've called the dr and hopefully I can switch by the end of the week. Because seriously, these mood swings are exhausting and unnessecary. Not to mention they just don't make a nice person because they make me feel worthless. But the the weirdest part is that I turn into bitchy hot girl. I know I'm completely unattractive due to my attitude, so the only thing I seem to think I'm good for is arm candy. That's just effed up.

Thank You

You know what two words are not that hard to say and carry a lot of weight?
"Thank you."

But apparently no one knows how to say this anymore. Or they think they're the center of the universe and everyone else was put here for them. (Fools. The universe is an ellipse so there are actually 2 foci, and clearly those spots belong to me and my girlfriends.) But welcome to the me generation, where there is no need to say thank you and now we're stuck with a bunch of rude little fcks.

Yesterday I answered about 4 question in the span of 10 minutes at work. Simple where are the so-and-so books. So I walk them over to the area being helpful and the ugly (yes it was) child looks at me with the stupidest expression on their face, waiting for me to go because I had thus served my purpose for that moment. This happened 3 more times. (great the kid is ugly and stupid, two things I have no patience/tolerance for.)

Seriously, how hard is it to say thank you? Do you know how far those words will carry? Maybe not to the ends of the earth, but little common courtesies never hurt anyone. For example: when we were driving to DC for my sister's graduation, we had to drive on a toll road. We get to the booth and as I hand the fare over, I simply acknowledged the toll both guy by saying hi and smiling. (I may have even asked how are you due to my southern manners). He was taken aback but he smiled back. You could tell I made his day better.

So simple. Big impact.

So new life goals: live in a castle (a modern one with all the conveniences of course) and teach my children to say thank you. Good plan.

Parent's Weekend

As we know, I visited dr soc's parent's this weekend. And I figured that since I was meeting his parents, then he should meet mine when we get back in town. Tit for tit and all that (Jim: thaaaat's not how the saying goes... Dwight K Shrute: Well it should. That's an Office bit for those of you who think I've got my adages wrong). Also, since we were going to be in the same area as Life In Cleveland, we arranged to meet up with them for a bit as well.

All went well. Frankly I'm too tired right now to give that many details. A lot of being on my a-game and best behavior. A lot of getting to know you conversations and some long drives and heavy food. I think everyone's just worn a bit out.

But his parent's like me. (they told him so) My parent's like him. (they told me so when we talked about him as soon as he went to the bathroom) My friends think he seems nice. And all of this makes me happy. Because he makes me really happy.

So now... with the parents milestone passed, I guess we just keep being happy. And we're doing so holding hands.

Meet the Parents

With things going as well as they have been w/Dr soc, I figured at some point we would meet each others' parents. I figured around early July at his brother's wedding, so about 2 months from now.

He thought it would be a good idea for me to meet them before the wedding, seeing it's his brother's wedding and his entire family has other things on their mind then meeting/getting to know his new girlfriend. Which makes sense. Plus he's going to have to leave me alone at some point and while we both know I'm more than capable of holding my own, still. Lots going on.

So he suggested we head up to see his parents at some point in the next few weeks before the wedding. We found a weekend that worked with our jobs and my classes and we were set to go in 3 weeks. But then I tweeted this: I'm traveling the meeting dr soc's family in 3 weeks. this was a good idea last night. I'm suddenly freaked out about it now though.

And great, I was going to have to deal with my slight anxiety for the next 3 weeks. What if they don't like me? Well, I'm actually not worried that they won't like me per say. I'm highly likable, very respectable and I clean up nice. It's not that. But what if...what if they think I'm not good enough?

But I need to find my big girl pants and I need to find them fast. Because his schedule changed and now we're going sooner than 3 weeks. Like this weekend sooner.

I'm traveling to meet my boyfriend's parents in 3 days for the first time. Oh holy hell.

Good Day

OK this is highly inappropriate, but every time I remember this conversation I start to giggle, so I have to share.

My former roommate and I were talking and we got on the subject of sex (of course we did). We were discussing what we liked, what we didn't like, what we liked to do and what we liked done to us....ya know.

Well, for reasons I don't understand, she really likes giving a certain kind of job.
I don't. And I told her so to which she replied:
"god, I love it."
Me: "ugh, I hate it. In fact, any day that I don't have to, makes my day that much better."

She laughed really really hard at that.

Check!

I have 21 things on my husband checklist. Sixteen on the boyfriend checklist in addition to the husband checklist.

Dr Soc has 19 of the husband. All 16 of the boyfriend. Seriously.

So he's doesn't make the most fabulous pancakes (they are by no means bad, they just aren't the most fabulous). Having his PhD greatly outranks my "college degree highly encouraged." And he can't parallel park very well (neither can I). So we'll pay for valet in the direst of circumstances.

And you know, I created those checklists in the midst of grieving over my broken engagement. The husband one for sure. I just wanted someone who was not my ex, and I wanted an upgrade along with it. So while the lists were originally in fun and cathartic, they should be taken with a grain of salt.

But hey, 35 out of a total of 37? And he exceeds expectations in other areas. Is this too good to be true? No. Because I believe that I'm worth it. And he is too. Perhaps I shouldn't be too boastful, because pride comes before the fall. But I have a good thing. And I'm really, really happy about that.

Boyfriend

I have a boyfriend!

Yeah, I think of dr soc* as my boyfriend. I don't know if we're using the titles per say, like this is my boyfriend/girlfriend, and I don't know if he thinks of me actually as his girlfriend. (plus I don't know if I think of myself as a girlfriend yet. Wait, why is it not reciprocal?) But I know he intends to see me for at least the next few months because we've made plans through the summer, and he doesn't want to see anyone else but me for that matter either. (He did say "I love you" the other night, but it was during sex, so clearly, that doesn't count) But he does like me, and I know that because he told me so, without promoting or in response or during ya know. So... that works.

You know, I haven't had a boyfriend in..... almost 3 years. My fiancé was my last boyfriend, that is until he became the fiancé. Eventually after him I started seeing the library guy, but he and I were never anything serious. I don't even know what to call us. Oh. Wait. Yes I do. ::snort:: yeah. Not a boyfriend. And then there was the default crush, but obviously nothing panned out there (being that he wigged) Which was an odd blessing in disguise, because now I have a boyfriend who I just think is so squee and smart and funny and hot and just freaking awesome.

While I really like saying/thinking I have a boyfriend, doesn't it sound a just a little young? But what else can I really say with the same status? Significant other? Manfriend? The guy I'm seeing exclusively? Yeah, those all sound... stupid.

So: I have a boyfriend!

* I will probably still refer to him as dr soc rather than boyfriend in blog-speak. Because that's easier and I think the name is funny and cute and unmistakeably him.

added 5/9/10: yep, he's definitely my boyfriend. Just as I'm definitely his girlfriend. We had this talk last night. There's no ambiguity there, we had the talk and used the titles and everything now.

Rest In Peace

Yesterday Lexington laid to rest one of it's police officers. The young officer was killed in the line of duty by a hit-and-run. He leaves behind his wife and a young son. I actually knew this guy, he was the ex boyfriend of one of my girlfriends from high school. And while I honestly didn't think about him after we graduated, I was somewhat shell shocked when I saw his picture splashed across the news.

He was honored with a full processional which I watched most of from my perch at work. And it was an incredibly humbling experience to see so many officers from across the state silently honoring their fallen comrade.

It takes a stronger woman than me to be an officer's wife.

I do feel bad for the man arrested for the officer's death. He has his problems and he needs help, but he will never have another chance at a normal life ever again. While not the same magnitude, his family lost someone too. Everyone lost in this.

Ultimately, I ache for everyone. The city who lost an officer. His wife and son who will miss him more than words could ever say. For all the officers who lost a co-worker and friend, and who still do their job knowing it could be any one of them being honored this way.

Rest in Peace Officer.

Presents!

My dr friend and her fiancé (who I also consider a friend as well) dog sat for me last weekend when I ran my Nashville race (Bailey was better for them then she ever has been for me btw). Thanks guys, you rock!

But anyway, I had to take Bailey over there and all her stuff too. So I packed up her dishes and toys and bed, but also her crate. Dr soc went with me to help with the heavy lifting but also to meet my friends (and he received an A grade too, woot!).

We're bringing in the aforementioned crate and he asked if it was a collapsible one or one I had to assemble. It's an assemble type much to everyone's chagrin. So dr soc said something along the lines of "I think you need a collapsible crate for you birthday." ::pause:: Then he imagined my reaction would be something along the lines of "Wow, what a...practical gift..."

To which I responded: "But I don't want to be at the practical gift stage. Clearly, that's no fun!"

Though I have to admit, I really would like a collapsible crate so I can take Bailey with me whenever I see dr soc or when someone dog sits. Maybe practical gifts aren't the worst thing...

Cock Block

My dog is a snuggler. She just loves to curl up next to you and take up as much room as possible. But it's not that she just likes to be against someone, she likes to be between people. Especially if those someones are me and a boy.

When I was with my ex, she always curled up in between us. And that was fine and cute when she was 15 lbs. Even 20 lbs was manageable, we could maneuver around her and then crate her if we wanted to get "close." And when my ex and I were breaking up, I let her sleep there on purpose, because I was constantly pissed at him and I didn't want him near me. And Bailey would without fail, snuggle between us and stretch out, therefore making all not going to happen anyway cuddling impossible.

Even when it's a female friend sharing the couch or relaxing in my bedroom (oh la la I know!), she is upset if you dare take her space. My dr friend stayed over new years eve and we were having a throw back style sleepover with my tiny tv in my bedroom. Were sitting in bed and Bailey is giving us the most annoyed looks, looking at us like, umm, 'scuse me, but you are in MY spot. So she jumps in the middle, circles a few times and plops and stretches her legs as far out as possible.

Over the summer, when Bailey and I were visiting a friend, she did the same thing without the annoyed looks. She just lept into bed and nestled right between us when it was bed time. It was pretty comedic timing actually, she did this right as he was trying to get his arm around me (I was secretly thankful, he had been trying to cuddle with me after dinner and I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but well, not into it). And she's big now so when she snuggles she's high enough on the bed to rule out any sort of intimacy. Then she kicks you in the kidneys when she stretches out just to make a point that she's the only one who gets to snuggle with me. She proceeded to stay there the entire night and I thought to myself, wow, my dog's a pretty effective cock block.

But the most recent libido killer was with dr soc. We had moved to the dog-ok bed and hoped to fall back asleep snuggled up together (like the new couple that we are) along with the dogs being cute and cuddly in there too. No such luck since the girls spent the next hour wrestling each other and jumping on and off the bed. But we attempt to get them both up there and settle down. Jules circles and plops around our shoulders like a cute little dog. Not to be outdone, Bailey finds the sliver of space between dr soc and I, and flops down pushing us to the far corners of the bed. So far that we can't even hold hands through the tangle of spaz dogs and covers . Of course, this made Jules get up and run away, to which Bailey responds by leaping after her and someone's paws got to 2nd base. By this point we realized the cute cuddly sleep with the dogs plan was a fail. So we just let them play and went back to snuggling with just humans.

And Bailey, honey, I love you and you've saved me a couple times there. I appreciate that because you knew what needed to be done in those situations. But I really really like this guy. And if you want to keep playing with his dog, (and I know you do) you have to let us have our own play time. Kay?

2 + 2 = Oh Right, You're a Bitch

Person X: And you are doing pharmacy?
Me: ah, well, I wanted to, but turns out chemistry was just too hard for me.
Person X: yeah, when your mom told me that's what you wanted to do, I thought: "but she's not good in math!"
Me: (defensively) actually, I'm quite good in math. I like math even. It's science I'm not great in and had a hard time with.
Person X: Oh that's right. Well, I knew it was something you weren't good at. But you're doing something much better suited for you now.
Me: yes, sociology is a lot easier for me, a better fit. And I'm doing well this semester. Thanks.

Still me in my head: wow, what a backhanded compliment? You shrew, I know you think I'm stupid. Not good at math my ass. I know this: if a = b and a = you're a bitch, then b = it's no wonder your husband cheated on you for 10 years and still left you.

Low of me? Yes.

But stupid? No.

Happy Derby Day!

Ahh, the first Saturday in May can only mean one thing:

IT'S DERBY DAY!!

Too bad I'm a terrible picker of these things. Seriously, this year both my NCAA and Fugmadness brackets, all my final 4 picks were out by the 2nd round. And no matter what horse I pick in a race, betting or not, it's usually scratched by post time or comes in last.

I'm just not cut out for the life of a gambler it seems. Or as one friend put it I'm "optimistic about my choices."

Well, whatever, let the mint juleps flow!

Here's to some Kentucky Pride! Cheers y'all!