The Blessed Unrest

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...

So anyway...

So it goes without saying that I'm hooked on you.

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 love storms, 

and I'd love for you to come kiss me in this one.

A-Post-90s-Music-Jam-Sesh-Follow-Up-Thought:

Today my mom openly showed her support for gay marriage on Facebook.

I want so desperately to sit down with my 16 year old self and tell her to stop worrying, because everything is going to be okay.

And I'm willing to bet that there's a 30 year old version of me out there wishing to tell the 23 year old version of me the same damn thing.

I need a drink, ya'll.

Life's Twisty.

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.

Adventures in February

This weekend I came home from work to a note on my bed saying my best friend wanted me to pack up all of my 'teacher work' and meet her 'at [insert random Maryland address].

After battling Friday rush hour traffic, I drove up to what turned out to be an adorable coffee shop in Frederick, Maryland.  Katie, who had been patiently waiting for me, asked what we were doing.  At which point the following classic movie moment ensued:

"What are we doing?"
"What do you mean?  I thought you planned this!"
"Are you serious?  I thought you planned this!  I got a letter from you saying to meet me here!"

At this point, we noticed that the cashier was smirking.  Figuring she knew something we didn't, we approached her.  She asked: "Are you Katie and Lauren?" When we confirmed that we were, she removed a clue from behind the counter.  It contained $10 and told us to:

Coffee with my bff and a romantic surprise from my gf?  I'M DOWN.  We followed directions, thanks to a friendly barista:

And then found a place to leave one of our cars, and started traveling up 70 as instructed by our previous clues.  Along the drive, we get texts with trivia questions--the answers to these questions will give us our destination!  After a few wrong guesses and misguided google searches, we discovered that we were headed to the Blue Knob Ski Resort in Claysburg, PA.  

Aside from a (minor) perilous journey up a mountain during a snowstorm in my 2003 Saturn Ion which got stuck in the snow that resulted in my need to call on my "Knight in Shining Volkswagen"... at which point she ALSO got stuck--We had a FABULOUS weekend.  

The door to our cozy little cond-snow (I think that's what condos in ski towns should be called) had this little sign on it.  Obviously we said YES, entered and were presented with boxes of chocolates, warm pajamas and lots and LOTS of wine.

It was a fantastic weekend, and I didn't even fall off my snow tube...

I thought I had her beat this Valentine's Day.  I sent her flowers, planned a romantic dinner and got tickets to see Andrea Gibson in March.  Turns out she's the romantic in this relationship.  Still, I'm taking her to poetry:

"Just in case it is, let me also say that I want you

sleepy-eyed in the morning waking at my side

like a warm summer sky born from

so much softness the horizon cries every time

night fall comes to take you

let me also say that I want to make you [gluten-free] sandwiches and soup

and peanut butter cookies, though

the truth is peanut butter is really bad for you

cause they grow peanuts in old cotton fields

to get the toxins out of the soil

but hey, you like peanut butter and I like you"

Happy Valentine's Day!