Once upon a time…
(Yes, this is one of those fairy-tale posts, just humor me, okay?)
Once upon a time there was a girl and a boy. Their story started like so many of these stories begin; lunch at a little Italian café. However, unlike most fairy tales, their story did not end with a castle and a pony and a wedding. Their story doesn’t even end with a “happily ever after.” Their story just ends.
Handsome & I are not together anymore.
Wow, it looks so final printed there in black and white. The truth is there are about thirty-seven thousand shades of gray somewhere in the middle. I love him, he is an absolutely amazing man and I want him to be happy. I wanted things to work out between us in a castle-pony-wedding kind of way, but Real Life and fairy tales don’t match up all that often.
I know that some of you may be all concerned for my emotional well-being, I am actually doing alright. The first few days were really hard, tears leaking out in meetings and while driving and at the grocery store and such, which I guess is normal. I do have my incredibly sad moments, but overall I am okay. I realize that I may be in complete denial or unnaturally emotionally healthy, and yes, I am going to see someone about that. And that someone is not Ben or Jerry or the German philosopher Hagen-Dazs…although I have had some quality couch time with each of them.
I have been debating how to write this post—blogging about relationships is tricky, blogging about ending relationships is trickier, and blogging about ending relationships without placing undue blame or criticism on the other party is, well, it’s very careful business. I don’t want to get into the emotional nitty-gritties, or the he said/she said play-by-play. I don’t want a waterfall of pity. I don’t want hurtful things said about Handsome. I still care about him, and I will probably always care about him. Things just didn’t work out. And that’s okay too.
How do you go on vacation? Do you go, Go, GO! all the time? Do you take time to relax? I think beach vacations are more “relaxy” than city vacations…who wants to go to a fantastic city and only see the inside of a hotel or conference room? That’s what business travel is for. While in Seattle, Handsome & I packed a ton of things in: Alki beach for some of the best views of the city, Spuds for super-authentic fish & chips, the Zoo, the Aquarium, the Nordstrom Half-Yearly sale…it was a busy trip.
However, I think that the moments I loved the most were when Handsome & I had some time alone, without any of the craziness. We drove up to Snoqualmie Falls and hiked down to the bottom for some fantastic views. Admittedly, neither of us were prepared for the hike back up to the top–but Handsome was a good sport about it, letting me stop every few feet to catch my breath take pictures of wild raspberries, none of which turned out.
You can only see a little bit of the falls behind us–this picture is taken from the top, before I was a hot, sweaty mess.
I have this “thing” for open water. I am simultaneously terrified and obsessed with it. I am completely content to watch water for hours on end, it is somehow calming to me.
Mmmm, boats. Love! Riding the ferry during my first trip to Seattle is still one of my favorite memories. (Note: I actually made that shirt. It’s true. I bought a $2.00 men’s dress shirt at a thrift store, washed it a half-dozen times, and then cut it up and re-fashioned it into a cool feminine blouse for me. It’s pretty much my new hobby. Yes, a tutorial will be coming, later.)
He’s such a good sport.
Pike Place Market, both touristy and loved by locals, and one of my all-time favorite attractions nation wide. I took about a hundred photos of various fruits, veggies, bread and cooking utensils. My plan is to frame them and hang them in my bare-walled kitchen. They are being edited at the moment–and who really wants to see a two dozens pictures of food?–but I am really excited about this!
This trip to Seattle was lovely while it lasted. The mix of sunny and gorgeous and cloudy and cool was fantastic and somehow Handsome & I packed a ton of things in. There have been a lot of changes in the week since we got home, but I did want to at least document the trip before I get into all those changes.
Dear Handsome,
When I fell in-love with you I had no idea I’d fall this hard. I had no idea that I could love someone like this, and today, on your birthday, I want you to know that I love you more than is good for me. You are the most incredible man I have ever met, and I have a difficult time imagining living my day-to-day life without you.
I love the way you look at me, and I love the way you touch my face. I love when you make me laugh and I love when you wipe away my tears. I love going out with you and I love staying in with you. I love learning things with you and I love trying out new places, and new restaurants, and new, new anything, as long as it’s with you. You are amazing.
Happy Birthday, Babe. I love you, try not to start a fire with all those candles. 
)
xox
Dear Readers,
I apologize if you have now upchucked your breakfast due to the mushtasticness in the preceding paragraphs. Just wish Handsome a Big, Internets-Lovin’ Happy Birthday and I promise I’ll make it up to you, mmmkay?
xox
When the state of Utah turned 100 years-old in 1996 the government issued a brand new, full color, full graphics Centennial license plate. I’m sure there was a committee of persons who spent hours deliberating over what, exactly, should be on that license plate. For years the “standard” plate has been a skier proclaiming “Utah: Greatest Snow on Earth”. Apparently for a 100th birthday, the skier just wasn’t going to cut it. This committee wanted something Big! Something Permanent! And Impressive!
Enter the Delicate Arch–the largest free-standing natural arch in the world.
Located in Arches National Park, this is perhaps one of the most recognizable icons from the state. Even though I have been to arches a half-dozen times, this was the first time I actually made the hike to Delicate. Most of the arches in the park are within easy walking distance from a campground or picnic area and on established trails. Not so for this beauty–you have to hike a mile and a half up slickrock, through washes and around giant sandstone formations, on a trail marked with small piles of rocks. You cannot see Delicate Arch until you pick your way up a skinny trail with a drop-off on one side and people moving both ways, at the last possible moment you are rewarded with the vista above.
It is completely breathtaking…and I am more-or-less out of shape. Hiking like that was much more draining than I thought it would be! At any rate, this is definitely a hike I want to do again, the absolute massiveness of this formation is sooo worth the achey calves. Delicate Arch is over 50 feet tall, but when you are standing right next to it, it seems much, MUCH larger. Look how teensy and ant-like I look here!
Completely impressive, no? It was amazing. Handsome & I hung out around here for a little while, but with no shade to speak of and us running low on water, it wasn’t too long before we turned around and headed back down the slickrock. (Note to future hikers: take extra water, and hike down to the farside of the arch for more impressive photo opps…wish I’d known that pre-hike…grrrr.)
The rest of the day Handsome & I wandered around the park, had a little lunch, and saw some of the close-to-the-road arches. After our hike both of our legs were all jelly-like and worthless. A few pics of my favorites:
Balanced Rock–a terribly original name–almost looks like it came out of a theme park. Or should go into a theme park…it’s like the prehistoric version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but without the crown-molding details.
Walking through a slot canyon in The Devil’s Garden, which is surprising similar in feel to The Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs. Only here in Utah we blame the devil for unearthly, red-rock formations, not some kind of divine being.
Landscape Arch, which claims being the thinnest natural arch in the world. (I seriously think half of these claims are made up just so the other arches feel badly; there’s the biggest, the thinnest, the tallest, the newest, or the whateverest….it must be a conspiracy.) A couple of years ago huge chunks of rock broke off this arch while people were there watching, goodness, that would have been amazing to see. Tons of sandstone cracking and breaking to expand this already precarious formation. Mmmm, I get chills just thinking about the awesomeness…it’d be like watching a volcano explode. Only, without the hot molten lava threat or mass destruction and death.
If you haven’t already, make sure to enter to win a Ruthie Pearl bag stuffed with goodies for Roxy’s birthday celebration!
There are really only a couple of times a year when I am genuinely speechless. In times like this it is awfully convenient to have a camera.
The problem is that those select vistas that render me speechless are not served any kind of justice by my completely non-professional camera. That being said, Dead Horse Point is stunning.
Dead Horse Point has kind of a morbid and macabre story behind it’s name; dead ponies and all. The story is that this peninsula (with the gorgeous views) used to be used by cowboys to hold ponies while they were rounding them up and once there was a bunch of them that got locked or lost there and starved to death, or thirsted to death. Like I said, it’s all quite macabre–I don’t really want to talk about it, dead ponies and all. If you really want to whole story (and some more, amazing pics) you can go here.
This short stop was just the first on a quick trip to Moab, home of the most amazing Red Rock areas in the West. Handsome & I were only gone for a day and a half, but it was one of the best vacations I’ve had in ages. Sunny, beautiful scenery, Handsome company. Swoon!
Come back tomorrow for the rest of the pics, and make sure to enter for my giveaway for Roxy’s Birthday!
Once upon a time, not so long ago or far away, there was a little girl with bright green eyes, a feisty personality and a whole lotta issues. She didn’t have a fairy godmother, she didn’t have three magic wishes, and if there was a secret, hidden rich Prince somewhere he did a hell of a job staying hidden. This little green-eyed girl had to go through her issues on her own.
As she grew up, Miss Green Eyes figured out how to deal with most of her issues, all by herself. As she got older she came to a point where she almost believed that most of her issues were gone, resolved, or buried so deep they would never surface again.
It is probably no surprise that Miss Green Eyes was wrong.
Buried issues have a tendency to vomit themselves up at the most inopportune times. Without the proper foresight and medication, that Issue Vomit can end up all over your shoes, and your dress, and your preppy little handbag. And there’s another kicker, when you really “grow up” and become all responsible and adult-like and everything, you get to deal with other people’s issues as well. So now in addition to your own Issue Vomit you’ve got Brown Eyes’ Issue Vomit all over your strappy sandals as well. It’s a real mess.
As Miss Green Eyes looked down at her shoes, she couldn’t tell the difference between her own issues and his issues. Standing there in a puddle of tears and issues, it occurred to Green Eyes that the only way to unbury and resolve these issues was to get them out in the open, even if it meant ruining a pair of shoes. And, if you knew Miss Green Eyes at all, you’d know that ruined shoes is a REALLY big deal.
There is no fairy godmother and no magic genie. All that mess and the only people there to clean it up were Green and Brown Eyes. In the middle of a discussion on whether or not to bring in the pressure hose and blast all that mess–and any remaining compatibility–into the next block, or into Never Neverland. Amidst ruined shoes and slippery surfaces, these two people had to make the decision to pick up the pieces, clean up the crap, and make it work.
Here’s the thing about all those buried issues, regardless of how strong or healthy or amazing you think you are, issues that are left buried will start to ferment. And eventually, there will be Issue Vomit. And it stinks, in every possible sense of the word.
Back to the story about Little Miss Green Eyes, she is still picking Issues up and either putting them away or letting them go. It’s a long, hard, slow, laborious process, but she’s working on it. And as for Brown Eyes, he’s doing the same thing. And I’m sure it’s long and hard and slow and laborious. And sometimes it hurts. Correction, it hurts a lot. Having your heart ripped from your chest and then stuffed back in haphazardly, in the attempting to rearrange that haphazardly placed heart, and in trying to deal with all those Issues all at the same time..it hurts. Even for a little girl with bright green eyes and a feisty personality.
Filed under: All about me, Handsome V, Life 101, Love 101, Relationships, Things That Suck
Sometimes, life sucks.
And then sometimes it sucks a little bit more.
I have this friend, see, and right now? Her life sucks. And because she’s my friend, and because of the nature of the sucktitude, it cannot be discussed with The Internets. When this happens, some people, like my friend, feel like pulling their hair out. Or their fingernails. Or something.
So, what cannot be discussed on The Internets? Well, some people feel that issues that are uber-personal, uber-private, or of a somewhat delicate nature shouldn’t be blabbed about willy-nilly like. Not that my friend is willy-nilly. She’s actually pretty normal, above-average even. But even above-average people sometimes agree that there are certain subjects involving certain other parties that should be kept off-line. Or at least kept off-line until they have been discussed/resolved with previously mentioned other parties.
Ok, so in RealSpeak, my friend is having Issues. A Crisis even. And do you know what the best thing is for a crisis? Chocolate. And Ice-Cream. And Road Trips. And lots and lots of couch-time with a therapist–whether that is a friend or the lovely invention that is wireless Internet and a laptop. Unfortunately for my friend, options three and four are impossible at this particular juncture, and options one and two will only last as long as the current stockpile of chocolate and ice-cream can withstand the Crisis Management Task Force–That’d be my friend, lover of all things chocolate and/or ice-cream.
Gaaaaah! My friend is cranky. Without any REAL way to solve said current Crisis, the only thing to do is to rehash this Crisis 18 times per day to 7 different friends and hope that Crisis Management can get with the program and solve the problem before all her friends start screening her calls, ignoring her desperate texts and emails and forcing her to make a Costco run for more chocolate, more ice-cream, and yoga pants in two sizes larger.
How about you give my friend a little love, tell her your favorite “Bad Day Remedies”. Your favorite movie, your favorite activity, your favorite something! Be specific, this is a Crisis we’re talking about people!
Oh, and Happy Friggin’ St. Patrick’s Day. Take Luck!
It is so easy to become stagnant, to become lazy and to take things or people for granted. Day after day, week after week, exactly the same. Stagnating almost seems like the natural response. It’s easy for relationships to become stagnant; dinner, hang-out, movies, whatever, repeat. Unless someone changes the stakes, things will remain stagnant, cracks and divisions will form and eventually two separate and opposing sides will form. Unfortunately sometimes you don’t see the cracks, you don’t realize what is happening.
In many ways, I cracked. My cracks were noticeable and starting to show in my daily interactions. I don’t know how I missed them. Last week while I was wandering around San Francisco they suddenly were blatantly obvious to me. A weekend away from my daily grind was exactly what I needed to see how my stagnant, lazy behavior had started to affect my relationships, particularly one relationship.
Ya know, it really is a good thing that Handsome knows how to sweep a girl off her feet, I’m not so great at sweeping. (See “stagnating”, above. Also, see dictionary to see if “stagnating” is actually a proper word.)
Last week Handsome told me that he wanted to take me on a date–ok, interest piqued–and that it was a surprise, and that I needed to wear a dress and heels. Wow, in less than 4.7 seconds I was completely obsessed with figuring out what kind of surprise Handsome had in mind. I generally hate surprises. Alright, “hate” may be a bit of a stretch, but not by much. The suspense and anticipation is absolute torture for me.
Over the next couple of days I pestered Handsome with approximately 862 questions trying to unravel this surprise-date business. For the record, Handsome is really good at keeping secrets. The only thing I could get out of him was that besides the surprise date factor, I was apparently receiving something larger than a candybar and smaller than a book. (Frankly, I would have been perfectly content with either the candy bar or the book, but I digress.)
Friday night I rushed home from work to primp and make the final decision on my outfit–creamy chiffon polka-dot skirt, black sweater and red satin slingbacks. When Handsome walked in with a bunch of my favorite flowers, daisies, I knew it was going to be an amazing night. When he let me choose his shirt, and even shaved off his 5-o-clock shadow, I was smitten all over again.
And my surprise? Swoon! It was a fantastic surprise. Handsome made me a CD of all of his favorite romantical love songs, my very own mix-tape. I don’t think I’ve ever had a boy give me a mix-tape of love songs. Checking mental inventory, nope. This is my first mix-tape! I have listened to this CD several times over and I must admit, I fall in-love with that boy a little more every time I think about the time he spent choosing the songs, narrowing it down to a short-list of favorites, and then picking the 18 “best” ones from the longish short-list.
The rest of my surprise was a mythical dinner & dancing date. Me, Handsome, slightly cheesey DJ, and a room full of strangers. Let me repeat that last part, a room full of strangers. Now, the vast majority of you do not know me in real life, and those of you who do know me in real life may not know that I do not dance in public. Ever. And I define “public” as anywhere outside of my shower. I have been known to get my groove on in the tub, but that’s about it. So me dancing in public is a BIG deal. I was so nervous! The fact that Handsome is an amazing dancer (think waltz, fox-trot, cha-cha and swing more than “shake your booty” kind of dancing) only made me more nervous. I already felt like a fool and when he and everyone else in the room saw me looking all fooly while trying to remember one-two-three, one-two-three, slow-slow-quick-quick, one-two-three…just thinking about it now gives me anxiety.
After a couple of hours my one-two-three’s were getting better and my swing was actually passable. Granted, I still felt like I had three left feet. I am also convinced that my posture–while fantastic in heels–is transformed into a that of a hunchback when dancing because I can’t stop looking at my Handsome’s feet. Shrug. I’ll get better at this, right? Besides, spending the night twirling and spinning and being held by a Handsome man is something I could definitely get used to, despite the “dancing in public” thing.
What does this have to do with relationship cracks? Well, there are bandaids for cracks and there are genuine fixes. For me, spending the night dancing with Handsome is a fix. Listening to a romantical CD he compiled is a fix. Realizing just how much I miss him is a fix. Going on a road-trip is a fix. I don’t know if I could actually define the bandaid solutions, but I do know that I don’t want any more bandaids. I don’t want any more cracks. I am well aware that I am at fault and have a myriad of things I need to work on, I am so very far from perfect. But I also know that as I work on things that will make us better I want nothing more than to have Handsome holding my hand and leading me through the tricky bits.
That saying “Dance like no one is watching, love like you’ve never been hurt” always seemed like a nice saying to me, something to be cross stitched on throw pillows or doodled on your chemistry homework, or even taped to the bathroom mirror. It never occurred to me that it could actually be true.
I love you Handsome, Happy Valentine’s Day.*
*Yes, I know it’s not Valentine’s Day, but due to The Booksale this weekend, we’re celebrating early.
Filed under: Favorite Things, Handsome V, Proof that I'm a Nerd, There and Back Again
You remember how I am a sucker for architectural stuff? Bridges on the East Coast, bridges on the West Coast, cathedrals, towers, dams, classic architecture…ya know, nerdy I-used-to-be-a-declared-architecture-major stuff. I’ve been to Seattle twice now and have yet to go to her most iconic monument. (Ok, I’ll stop with the obsessive linkage..see “Proof that I’m a Nerd–with a capital “N”.) I’ll save you the history on the Space Needle, but it was built in the 1960′s for the World Fair with deliciously mod-ish architecture.
I begged Handsome to walk around the entire base taking pictures with me, the sun wasn’t right from this side, the stairs make for cooler angles from that side. I figure since it took him a third trip to his hometown before I got a trip to the Space Needle, he can deal with wandering around the base for an hour.
We did not go up to the top of the Space Needle, because despite the blue-ness of the sky in these photos (Thank you, Photoshop), it was really quite gray and with very limited visibility. What? I like the overcast thing, but I’d rather my archived memories had a bit more color. It should be noted, my scarf was a bright blue to start with, thank you Handsome. If I’m going to spend $18 dollars on an elevator ride, I’d like to see more than 3 blocks; which means that I get to go back on another trip to Seattle, which means you–dear Internets–get yet another rambling post about how much I love architecture (see obsessive linking at the beginning of the post).
I wish I could write something more that is entertaining, or give you fodder to make fun of nerdtasticness…but I can’t help but just look at the forty dozen or so pictures from the Space Needle and just, be happy. So, I’ll just leave it at that. Fifty-year old monuments that bear a striking resemblance to a UFO stuck on top of a tripod somehow make me happy. Shrug.
