Secret Garden

This is a phone entry; don't judge my grammar and punctuation too harshly.

So...I feel like whining about this. Tangents abound.
I don't mean to discount the friends I already have, because I love them, but they happen to be geographically far away...
And you can't expect friends that are so far away to remain as emotionally invested in your life as they did previously. That's not one bit fair. People have lives! Brilliant, wonderful lives that require vigorous...living! I guess I'm feeling jealous that I can't be part of those lives anymore, at least like I used to...but as I said, it's unfair of me, and I'm feverishly striving to overcome it.

I need new social spheres.

I'm tremendously picky about whom I allow to be close to me. I exist in a reality so convoluted by every single memory/color/modicum of stimuli, that I've worked incredibly hard to function in normal society. [Brace yourselves: Adventure Time reference] It's like I'm the Ice King with crazy old wizard-eyes. I still can't figure out how to eat a meal without absently smearing it all over my face. I recognize  that it's not disabling or heart-breaking, as one would see in one with OCD or more severe mental illness, but the truth is I'm incomplete. I think we all are, in our own way. I have an easy time recognizing this as my responsibility, but I have a really difficult time adjusting to the vulnerable position I frequently find myself in.
Interaction is hard. Acting appeals to me for a reason: I've crafted a friendly persona, full of charm and bravado, to present myself as an extrovert. Honestly, I'm not anywhere close to being this person. I'd prefer to run out of the room on most occasions. I have, on some. Contrary to how I may appear, I allow very few people to be close to me. These are people who either have known me many years and have a deep understanding of my more confounding traits, or those with whom I've shared a deep sense of connection, usually through some sort of life-altering event (which include theatrical productions). Or they're Jacob. Trust is paramount, especially since choices of friends in the past has lead to some pretty intense lows for me. And now, with the loss of 97% of my regular and cherished social interaction due to our move, I feel incredibly...lost? Yeah, lost.

How do I even meet people?! And, for the record, I don't trust the Internet. I'm just old enough to have suspicion of all technology while compulsively using it. Plus, I'm not trying to find a soul mate or a sleazy hookup, so I'm pretty limited as far as sites and apps.

I did get a job as a preschool music teacher at a Gymboree Play/Learn. However, I'm tremendously apprehensive over building work friendships, given my previous experience in early childhood education...we'll just see how this pans out.



A long time ago, I found a picture in an old literature textbook that essentially describes my inner-sanctum. It's hard to describe, really. It's presumably set somewhere in Great Britain (Wales, if I could choose). It's a slow-moving brook, littered with smooth stones, surrounded by a deep thicket of trees, bushes, and ivy, which create a tunnel. On one side, a decaying stone wall flanks the pastoral scene, allowing small rays of light in through a crumbling gate. Ivy proliferates. It's dark and gothic, a little romantic, and channels the Secret Garden a bit, although I always found Mary Lennox to be too bitchy for me to appreciate. It's probably imaginary, like an Albert Bierstadt painting, but I think that's where I'd like my soul to end up.  Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm trying to find another soul to invite into my secret ivy grotto, somebody that won't disrupt the flow of the brook it or trample the ivy.

This is all getting really introspective, and really self-involved; I can't continue on this topic. Partly because it's hard writing about vulnerability and loneliness, partly because the dog just farted in my face and I'm utterly disgusted.

Skeever Tail

I haven't exactly been feeling myself lately.

And by lately, I mean the last two months since we've moved across three states.

And by myself, I mean I'm lonely. And hormonal. And slipping back to my all-too-familiar cycle of depression.

And I just don't want to talk about babies right now. For many reasons. The one I'm willing to share is this: I'm starting to get a little worn-down from this process. Being able to focus on other things has allowed my head to clear a little bit. Truthfully, I'm actually feeling relieved about letting this go for an indefinite period of time. I've noticed that for the first time in years, I'm not actually interested in having babies right now, and the pressure I've previously been under hasn't had the same impact. I'll just commit to living my life as it is, then re-approach that issue in the future.

Then again, I wouldn't mind having a mess of little boys running around at some point. So we can have Adventure Time :)

So...we moved. It's hard to move. I don't like change. I don't like being alone all the time. I know I've been extremely vocal about not wanting to leave, and I'm okay with that. I'm proud of my husband and his accomplishments, and I have promised to follow him until I die. That's understood. But I don't have to be happy about moving; that would be unhealthy. I had the most wonderful house, the most wonderful theatre, and the most wonderful friends a girl could ever want. So it was a bit jarring when we left all of this behind. I've been dealing with it as best I can, but there's been a lot of emotional turmoil on my part. I've been pretty lonely, especially since Jacob's been having to commit a lot of time to his new position. Plus, when we moved in, this house TOTALLY SUCKED. I have no other phrase with which to describe it. I mean, the location has been phenomenal, and it's got a lot of potential, but it's taken a lot of work, mostly on my part. I mean, CRIKEY, all the walls were white. PLUS, there were some mysterious poo stains in one of the bathrooms. So uncouth.

I'm mostly lonely, but fortunately, I have the Fay family only an hour away! We've been able to have the whole crew or just Kendra and the kids around a couple times, and it's really wonderful to have "family" around. It's great to have Kendra to talk to, plus I can satiate my baby-longing in terms of some small kids :) I love being "Aunt Katie."
Which reminds me: I want to have a crazy, eclectic house so that when my nieces and nephews visit, they'll think I'm magical. This has been a life-long goal.

But, the thing is, when you move, it cements relationships and makes the times when I see them all the more precious to me. We moved two months ago, and I've already made the trip from Chicagoland to Minnesota three times, twice without Jacob! He tolerates that well, and I hate to leave him missing me for days, but I need social interaction. I really only talk to the dog when I'm here. I've missed my almost daily coffee dates with David (who ended up moving to the cities shortly after I moved; I'm extraordinarily proud and happy about that, but this blog is about me and not David). I miss putting birds on things and singing karaoke with Kristine. I miss Adam and Rachel and not being able to watch little Augustine grow up. And now that Lindsey and Sean are so far away, I have no one to watch Adventure Time or play Cards Against Humanity with. That is, until I come visit. Visiting my friends has been incredible, and I'm once again reminded that our purpose in this world is to love and be loved by others.

Oh, and I play Skyrim now. I'm terrible at video games, but I've always wanted to be a wood elf named Bonerhead.

We went to a jazz-blues festival. Or was it a blues-jazz festival?

June, Ruben, and Aunt Katie. So wonderful!

We appropriately wore nerdy t-shirts and went to the Field Museum. It was awesome.

New appliances are the coolest.

I have a lovely bedroom. ALL MY DOING.

I used to see this on my running route. Now it's being renovated. WHY RUN ANYMORE?

These are other things we've done to our home. Including a hole in the wall.

I got to visit David in the cities. He was the best wedding date/host/pizza box artist ever.