I'm still surprised with myself and how happy I am in this tiny mountain town. But, as a friend of mine put it, I can grow here, inside and out. Everything is green now, just like I knew it would be, and there are more bugs than I can put names to.
However....
None of that can detract from the sheer joy I feel about going home for a week. I am literally counting down the days, like a kid before Christmas. And the next 25 days are going to feel like forever, just like they did waiting for those presents under the tree.
Of course, me being me, I've already got this ridiculous itenerary in my head from the time I leave until I get back. Knowing it's ridiculous hasn't stopped me from planning it though. I know that as soon as I get there, all my planning will go out the window, but something in my genetic makeup won't allow me to NOT plan, so there you have it.
Ahhh, the feel of hot sand under my feet, cold, salty ocean waves breaking endlessly on the shore, tourists in neon speedos and too-short trunks trying valiantly to get out past the breakers on their inflatable rafts bought just that morning from Wings...the seagulls swooping and pooping, the kids screaming, dogs barking, the occasional low rumble of an engine as the lifegaurds cruise by on their 4-wheelers...
All of those things are integral to a summer on the Outer Banks, and every summer memory I have ties into each of those things. I gaurantee you that the people from the beach who are reading this now can see exactly what I see, and hear and taste and smell it too. It's just something that, once it's in your veins, there's no escaping it. You could move to Alaska for twenty years and still all it would take is closing your eyes, and taking a deep breath, imagining it heavy with the smell of ocean and traffic and sunscreen and hot pavement...
It really takes you away. :)
Okay, enough rambling, I have to go and make a list of everything I want to take. I mean, c'mon, I've only 25 MORE DAYS!!!!! Haha, just kidding...sort of. ;)
Today's song:
(push "play")
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Happy Birthday to Me!
Hello all!
It's been an interesting year all around for me, and my birthday this past Friday has been no exception. I haven't been really looking forward to turning 26, because it puts me on the downhill side of my 20's, and that much closer to 30. While I always say I think 32 is going to be a good year, I'm definitely not in any hurry to get there.
Anyways, I'd been planning my birthday for a few weeks, and I was really excited about it when I went to work on Friday night. It wasn't some big shindig, but for me, who never gets out of the house without going directly to work, it was a big deal. I was planning on going out for drinks with my new (awesome) friends, then spending the night with one of them, sleeping in, then heading to work at4pm.
It was a very long night at work, a constant thing and a huge issue in my life right now that I'm not even going to get into except to say- I work for my in-laws, my husband's father & stepfather. We are not the Brady Bunch.
But I'm not even going to get into that, right? So after a long night, we had about 30 minutes to go, and I was getting pretty excited. Then I was told that I had to be at work the next morning at 10:30am.
FML doesn't even begin to cover the depressed/murderous rage I felt.
I left work biting my tongue so hard it was bleeding and keeping a choke-chain tight hold on my temper, because I have to have this job, and I love my children. But I went straight from the bane of my existence that I call work to my friend's house to change and get ready, and that was when things got better. After a few minutes spent commiserating with her over the unfairness of our work lives (she was also not scheduled 'til 4pm and was told last-minute to be there in the morning), we gathered up her boyfriend and another coworker and headed to the local watering hole.
Things progressed at a normal rate from there.
Drink. Drank. Drunk.
It was a great night :)
The double at work the next day was really rough, and the double the day after that was possibly the longest day in history, but now it's Monday, and I'm off, and I've made a definitive decision that my birthday was a success. Thank wholly to the amazing friends I've made at work; unlikely compatriots in the struggle to maintain composure at the reality-tv-show-in-the-making-hell-hole we work in.
Okay, that was a bit melodramatic, and I apologize. I'm reading a fairly terrible fantasy fiction book right, and I think it must be wearing off on me, due to my diminished brain capacity from the offical "Longest Weekend Ever" and being sick and sleep-deprived.
It's been an interesting year all around for me, and my birthday this past Friday has been no exception. I haven't been really looking forward to turning 26, because it puts me on the downhill side of my 20's, and that much closer to 30. While I always say I think 32 is going to be a good year, I'm definitely not in any hurry to get there.
Anyways, I'd been planning my birthday for a few weeks, and I was really excited about it when I went to work on Friday night. It wasn't some big shindig, but for me, who never gets out of the house without going directly to work, it was a big deal. I was planning on going out for drinks with my new (awesome) friends, then spending the night with one of them, sleeping in, then heading to work at4pm.
It was a very long night at work, a constant thing and a huge issue in my life right now that I'm not even going to get into except to say- I work for my in-laws, my husband's father & stepfather. We are not the Brady Bunch.
But I'm not even going to get into that, right? So after a long night, we had about 30 minutes to go, and I was getting pretty excited. Then I was told that I had to be at work the next morning at 10:30am.
FML doesn't even begin to cover the depressed/murderous rage I felt.
I left work biting my tongue so hard it was bleeding and keeping a choke-chain tight hold on my temper, because I have to have this job, and I love my children. But I went straight from the bane of my existence that I call work to my friend's house to change and get ready, and that was when things got better. After a few minutes spent commiserating with her over the unfairness of our work lives (she was also not scheduled 'til 4pm and was told last-minute to be there in the morning), we gathered up her boyfriend and another coworker and headed to the local watering hole.
Things progressed at a normal rate from there.
Drink. Drank. Drunk.
It was a great night :)
The double at work the next day was really rough, and the double the day after that was possibly the longest day in history, but now it's Monday, and I'm off, and I've made a definitive decision that my birthday was a success. Thank wholly to the amazing friends I've made at work; unlikely compatriots in the struggle to maintain composure at the reality-tv-show-in-the-making-hell-hole we work in.
Okay, that was a bit melodramatic, and I apologize. I'm reading a fairly terrible fantasy fiction book right, and I think it must be wearing off on me, due to my diminished brain capacity from the offical "Longest Weekend Ever" and being sick and sleep-deprived.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Ali & Ryan - A Real Love Story
Something happened at work last week, and I feel like I won't stop thinking about it until I purge ala writing, so here goes.
When I introduced myself as Ali to a man sitting at the bar, he immediately responded with,
"Have you seen the movie The Notebook?"
To which I responded, "Yes. Yes I have."
He smiled and we started talking, and once we reached that inevitable point in most small talk conversations where I mention being married, the man said,
"Is he your Noah?"
I smiled and laughed a little, my first thought being "cheeeesy!"
But over the past few days I've thought about it, with increasing frequency. At first, because I was admittadly charmed with being compared to a character in such a beloved modern love story, something which has never happened before, despite having the same name.
But the more I thought about it, the more I really thought about it.
While our over 8 year long relationship has been anything but a fairytale, it's still been something we both consider ourselves very lucky to be a part of. We've hurt each other deeply, the way only those who love you can. We've made it over every hurdle though, held together by a bond that's been unbreakable, even when we've tried our damndest to break it.
Real love.
I don't know about "true love"; I think it's not quite the right wording for some reason. I've experience love that was true before, but it wasn't the same as what I have with my husband. Real love, flawed, impregnable, unbreakable; that's what we have. I don't really think he would or could, stop trying, and God knows I can't.
We can't stop, it's who we are. We aren't ourselves without the other.
So yes, I think he is my Noah. But better.
He's my Ryan.
♥
When I introduced myself as Ali to a man sitting at the bar, he immediately responded with,
"Have you seen the movie The Notebook?"
To which I responded, "Yes. Yes I have."
He smiled and we started talking, and once we reached that inevitable point in most small talk conversations where I mention being married, the man said,
"Is he your Noah?"
I smiled and laughed a little, my first thought being "cheeeesy!"
But over the past few days I've thought about it, with increasing frequency. At first, because I was admittadly charmed with being compared to a character in such a beloved modern love story, something which has never happened before, despite having the same name.
But the more I thought about it, the more I really thought about it.
While our over 8 year long relationship has been anything but a fairytale, it's still been something we both consider ourselves very lucky to be a part of. We've hurt each other deeply, the way only those who love you can. We've made it over every hurdle though, held together by a bond that's been unbreakable, even when we've tried our damndest to break it.
Real love.
I don't know about "true love"; I think it's not quite the right wording for some reason. I've experience love that was true before, but it wasn't the same as what I have with my husband. Real love, flawed, impregnable, unbreakable; that's what we have. I don't really think he would or could, stop trying, and God knows I can't.
We can't stop, it's who we are. We aren't ourselves without the other.
So yes, I think he is my Noah. But better.
He's my Ryan.
♥
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