This little corner of the internet is a nice little place to call home... despite the fact that I average visits only bi-annually. If this blog were my mother, it would tell me to call home more often! I think a most permanent and pervasive shift has occurred in my life since my last entry. I MET SOMEONE THE ONE. It's been a year and a half, and I still marvel at my good fortune every single day. This whole vast expanse of universe, and she walked into my little world. The story: Matched on tinder, TOTALLY swiped right. Met at the National Gallery one October Wednesday afternoon. I was late. She was beautiful. I literally fell in love at first sight. AND OK, love is pretty fantastic. But this love? How is it possible that people can just walk around the world being in love, this kind of love, without just exploding? It is unparalleled and unbelievable. Literally every single thing in my world is better and brighter now that she is in it--and things were already pretty damned great and bright before. One time, Ingrid Michaelson told me (...well okay, me and 1,000 of my closest friends at the U Street Music Hall) that a poet once tried to write a poem about the ocean in a quaint, seaside cottage. Try as he might, the ocean waves lapping outside of his door couldn't inspire him. Dejected, he left the beach and returned to the city. To his surprise, the words began to flow and he was able to write about what he could no longer see. If you want to write, sing, create.. sometimes it helps to get the distance to do so.
It's getting a little cliche for me to pretend to be shocked by how long it's been since my last post. Let's skip that one this time, shall we?
How long do I have to keep ignoring your candy crush invites before you get the message. Ballpark?
So anyway, summer rocks.
At first I was filled with a HOLYSHITUNSTRUCTUREDTIMEIDKWHATTODO virus, but then I realized... there are some pretty great goddamned ways to fill your time. (Apart from teaching summer school--which is what young teachers do because we don't get paid in the summers and still want to do things like eat, drink & buy that new Anthropologie duvet we've been eyeing...)
I do feel a little like I'm floating in the ether. I've been strangely and unpredictably busy with no real routine to follow. Every once in a while I am absorbed in a panic that consumes me-"AM I FORGETTING SOMETHING HUGE AND IMPORTANT?! And it usually comes to my attention that-Yes. Yes I am.
But right now I'm channeling all my energy into my pirate birthday party. 3 years ago today I was putting the finishing touches on the following backdrop for my epic Harry Potter birthday party:
& today I'm putting the finishing touches on this:
& So, while time has passed (as time has a tendency to do), it's nice to know that I haven't grown up a little even at all.
Here's a thought I've been having lately: People spend entirely too much time and energy focusing on romantic relationships. The truth of the matter is that you are surrounded by people constantly. Focus on all of them, because putting all your eggs in one basket just makes for a really heavy basket.
I'm sitting here at the end of my break (and my drink), comfortably absorbed in the latest episode of Downton Abbey. Happy isn't even the right word... I'm rested. I'm content. I'm me.
Life gets away from us, you know? We forget who we are. Recently, my mom shared with me a story about a job she had and disliked in college. She couldn't find common ground with her coworkers who fostered a negative environment and it made her social soul pretty miserable. However, she began to bring a book with her to work and every day on her lunch break, she'd read a little. According to my mom, those moments inside that book reminded her who she was. She'd return to her job refreshed and refocused.
This Winter Vacation has been my lunch break.
Before the break, I was running ragged. Barely scraping along and honestly a little discouraged. Between planning and organizing, orchestrating and reviewing, I'd come home and crash. My laundry was piling up and my eating habits crashing down. Working, driving, sleeping... I think I was letting my life get away from me. And there's nothing like your mom coming upstairs, frazzled and covered in pine needles because she was trying to unscrew the Christmas tree when it fell over on top of her to remind you of who you are. Apparently she yelled for help and only the tiny dogs came. It's amazing what you can miss over the whirr of a hair dryer. Over the past two weeks, I've had time to breathe, time to read, time to sing, time to remember who I am.
Conveniently, there's a fresh new year just arriving.
& like, HOW CHEESY would it be to end this shmaltzy post by listing some stupid New Year's resolutions?
So anyway, my new year's resolutions are as follows:
1. Make time for reading.
2. Be a better dog mom.
3. Make NO time for laziness.
Happiness doesn't always make you happy, Lauren. Remember that.
Honestly couldn't tell you where July, August and esspeeecially September went. Life has continued to send curveballs and tidal waves, and while I hate being a grown-up, I'm learning. A lot. All the time.
My job is an even split between being a mountain I feel like I'll never be able to climb and tiny moments of success that make it all worthwhile. I guess maybe there's a Miley Cyrus song in there somewhere, BUT OKAY the less cliche part of this realization is this: I am being forced to be better. A better teacher, a better person, better. And even though I put everything into my work, there are still going to be days when that doesn't show. Love [sometimes] hurts, even when you do it right, and that's as true in teaching as it is in romance.
I moved suddenly this summer. It wasn't something on which I'd planned, but it's ended up being the most wonderful change. I'm living in a little house with a deck and fenced in backyard. I'm closer to the city and comfortable in my home for the first time since I left college. My best friend is just upstairs and available to dissect dates and advise fashion at any given moment. I'm home and I'm happy here. The strangest thing is that it wasn't until I moved that I realized how unhappy I'd been at my last apartment. It never ever felt like home, I always felt like a guest. It was a beautiful space, but it was always quiet and never mine. & while we're riding the cliche train, it's fitting to point out that there really is "...no place like home."
Especially when home is covered in Degas & dogs.
& to switch gears entirely: Someone at work was talking about a friend who was dating in their 60s and made the comment that she'd never want to do that because dating was hard enough in her twenties. & ya know, I have a lot (A LOT) of thoughts on dating, but I don't know that I'd call it "hard."
In other news: Madewell is my new favorite store. The clothes are just MADE so WELL. Plus there's a teacher discount...
I love teaching kindergarten because sometimes you ask for "text to self connections" after reading 'The Giving Tree' and one will say "Ya know, I have a friend that moved away and every time I see her she gets bigger and bigger just like the boy in the book!" And it will fill you with a pure and innocent joy unrivaled in any other profession. And then the next kid will say "Ya, well the tree is green, right? Well remember that day we ate all that green stuff in school? When I got home I threw it all up in my neighbors driveway..."
So there's that.
Goodness these past few months have flown by before I've really had a chance to get my pants on. Is that a thing people say?
Let's see, let's see... updates:
I have become a dog owner.
little Luna
And it is thrilling and precious and wonderful... but one of us-and I won't say which-just peed on my bed. So, I suppose this moment could be described as a valley in a series of PEE-ks (see what I did there?)
And after my parents fell in love with Luna, they decided that they needed a dog, too:
Hello, little Dobby.
I've decided that all future Granger family pets must have Harry Potter names. Fortunately, J.K. Rowling has provided us with a Gringotts-vault-sized wealth of perfect pet names, so...
And furthermore, my roommate caught the puppy fever and is now the proud owner of a two month old cockapoo, Pele. However, he lacks every bit of the grace/athleticism/understanding-of-gravity afforded his soccer-playing namesake.
Living the big sister life.
It is INSANE to me that I spent my entire life in literal YEARNING for a dog, and in under a month there are exactly THREE tiny squiggly balls of puppy joy in my life. I don't hate it, but nine-year-old me is indignant as fuck.
In professional terms, I'm moving to third grade next year. There's another new teacher moving to the same grade level, and I have a GIANT class of 30+ students. I'm jazzed about it (or at least telling myself that I am), but I am going to miss kindergarten like WHOA. And I can't believe I only have three days left with my nuggets.
Dream job.
I've been feeling like I need to DO something. I got stuck in my job for a while, so absorbed in literacy and standardized testing that I forgot to educate myself in, you know, THE WORLD. Like, casually had to google the situation in Turkey after a conversation the other nigh. I want to give a little back to this world that's given me so much, but I'm not sure where to start. I'm not accepting the excuse that my student loans are crippling (though they are), because I know I don't need to fly across the world to give to those in need. (BUT OH PLEASE I'D LOVE TO!) In fact, I know my own community is the best place to start.
So I've covered dogs, work & the restlessness of my privileged soul. Romance? Well, let me get back to you on that...
I haven't written about this because I don't know what to say. I feel like I could write six separate papers on my thoughts, and they'd all be completely different.
It cannot be ignored that I know the best people in the world. In the days after you left, I came home to flowers on my doorstep, got taken to dinner and drinks & had sleepovers. I've gotten letters and presents in the mail, and been constantly surrounded by love. Seriously, it's like I'm still in a relationship, I'm just dating like ten people at once...asexually. I don't know what I did to deserve the kind of friends I have, but I will never stop being grateful.
The thought that brings me the most peace is this: You were a good thing that I lost. They are a good thing I will never have to lose... ever.
Which brings me to my next train of thought: With so many blessings around me, how can I afford to be sad about the one thing I don't have any more? It's infuriating to me that I can't just shake this. How frustrating that my mind and my heart can't come to a simple peace agreement and decide: "Yes, it's sad. We know that. BUT LOOK AT ALL THESE OTHER HAPPY THINGS." And let me skip along the path of life, content in the knowledge that I am going to be fine.
And I am going to be fine, I know that. I know by now that healing takes time. There are parts of me that are already there. There's a part of me that is downright indignant at the idea that someone might not love me and just think I'm God's gift to this green earth. As a dear friend put it:
Look: I'm a great person and an even greater girlfriend. And if you can't see that.... then you're an idiot.
This little part is full of herself (not unlike the rest of me), and sings a lot of Beyonce (not unlike the rest of me).
But the strange thing about growing up is that we get smarter about the people we choose to date. I have nothing bad to say about you, and I hope the same is true for every relationship hereafter.
There is a significant part of me that is still shocked. It's clear even from this silly little blog. The last post I wrote was about this incredible Valentine's Day surprise that my loving girlfriend planned for me. And then suddenly that girl walked out the door. It's not even like this came from left field... it's like it came from an Arby's parking lot three towns over from the field. We were such a good thing. You were right for me. Maybe not for forever, but for now. I know you are not the only girl who can make me happy, but I was so happy with you. And I still can't get the sound of that door out of my mind.
There are parts of me that wonder where your mind is now. I wish I knew more about this decision and about the logic leading up to it. I want to rid myself of the notion that you were talked into this. I need to be sure this is what you wanted. I know you are smart, I know you are capable and I know you wouldn't have left unless you really thought you needed it. I know it's probably just a "starved dog's logic about bones," but even in our last talk... your eyes didn't seem to match your words.
I pray that you find peace of mind...
And there is a huge part of me that is just sad. Just missing someone that was my best friend for a year. There's a part of me that took several days to stop pulling my phone out of my pocket to call you and tell you funny kid stories after school. There's a part of me that's sad when I see groupons for fun things I'd like to do with you. I hated 8pm on Sunday night because I watch enough Dr. Who to know that there's an alternate universe where you and I were sitting down with some drinks to listen to Andrea Gibson at the Highline Ballroom in New York City. I'll bet it was an incredible show. I miss my weekend trips to Baltimore, and the nights I spent dancing with you. I miss discussing how "oaky" I wanted my eggs. Today is the first day I've been able to listen to Ellie at all, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry at least a little. It's spring, and I want to learn to play basketball. I want to go to your graduation, and to vineyards with your roommates. When I sit down to pick a favorite part of "us," my mind never stops running.
That part sucks the most.
That part makes me wonder if I'm doing the right thing by not trying to be your friend. Right now, that thought just makes me sad. I can't really process the idea of you as my friend, and I know for sure that right now is too soon for something like that. I'd almost rather you be someone I'd loved and lost than try to create a friendship from the weird leftovers of our relationship. My friendships are not something I take lightly, as you might remember from the veritable 'ode to friendship' earlier in this post.
But the thing about having great friends is that sometimes they say things like this:
We spend so much time looking for that one relationship, that one person we can "do life" with. But the thing is... life's not about a relationship. It's about relationships. We are meant to "do life" with lots of people.
The bottom line is that I want to get through this part, I want to get out of this place. And the only way to do that is to feel it.
