From Point A to Point B

I feel like my life has been going a million miles an hour since I started the great grad school adventure. In some ways it is completely awesome, and in other ways its like I saw a oncoming train and thought, "gee, let's see what would happen if I jumped in front of it!" When I graduated from college and moved 2,000 miles away from everything I've ever known, I was pretty naive in thinking it was going to be a big old piece of pie. I thought because I had a degree I would get a job right away and live happily ever after and be financially secure for life. (OK I wasn't that bad, but a little like that).

But it just wasn't that easy. It might have been different had I not graduated into this economy, but my job search stretched on for months and months, with one disappointment after another. After a while it really started taking a toll on my self esteem. And because I wasn't working or going to school, I had no built in methods for making friends. And more than anything, I missed having friends. I've never considered myself an extremely social person. In fact, I have a lot of social anxiety. When I first started therapy, I was diagnosed with social anxiety, before we determined that I was mainly just scared of life itself. But over the years, I have managed to develop a lot of close friendships with people who I adore and who are understanding of the fact it is almost physically impossible for me to carry on a phone conversation and sometimes I get to nervous to attend their parties.

So with all this stuff going on, I really started to realize I had to reevaluate my life plan a little bit.I also had to accept that this just might mean going back to school. I mean I really thought I was done with school. My mother wanted me to have a master's degree, but ummm to put it politely I couldn't have cared less. I wanted to know if there was life out there that didn't involve sitting behind a desk and trying not to fall asleep. But gradually it just seemed like a good idea to me, and I always wanted to become a therapist. So that is what I decided to do.

So here I am 6 months later with three classes under my belt, and busier than I have ever been in my entire life. Sometimes I think what the heck did I get myself into? But I actually love going to class, and even when its really hard, I'm so passionate about what I'm doing. And I'm really starting to make friends, and an even bigger plus I've made friends with a guy. I hardly ever make friends with guys, unless its someone one of my girlfriends are dating. I don't trust men, maybe because I have been hurt by lets say 95% of all men who have ever been in my life. So its a positive step for me.

What it boils down to is that I'm probably the happiest I've ever been in my entire life. And maybe its cliche and a little cheesy, but I do really believe everything happen for a reason. So just maybe, it was suppose to be so hard for me last year, so I could get to the point I am now.

P.S.-I'm leaving Saturday to spend a little time with my family for Christmas. My grandmother has dial-up, and I am way too impatient to deal with that. So I won't be around much, so Happy Holidays everyone!

Our Deluxe Duplex in the Sky

Moving into the duplex sounded good in theory, but when it came to actually "moving," it became quite a downer. I sorta, kinda HATE moving. Mostly this is due to my traumatizing memories of moving in and out of dorm rooms in the hot, sticky,and stinky Mississippi summers. Hours of my life were spent hauling tvs, textbooks, and shower shoes (are those really necessary?) upstairs after the inevitable breakdown of the elevators.

I thought this move would be pretty simple. We got the keys a week before we moved, so every night we brought over the OMG NEVERENDING boxes. I was gobsmacked by how much crap we had managed to collect. Our crap can be divided into three categories: the awesome new stuff we were gifted for no longer living in sin, the stuff that we actually need, and the stuff my husband won't get rid of because of his "sentimental" attachment. I have to be honest, I don't really understand sentimentality when it comes to many things. I feel like you always have the memories, even if the objects are gone. Now I save really important stuff like my grandmother's pearls or my teddy bear from childhood, but not little everyday trinkets. I hate clutter, and I hate having anything laying around that doesn't serve a purpose.

My husband is all about his "stuff", and he is attached to the most random things. For example, when we were packing up the kitchen, I decided we no longer needed his old, cracking measuring cups since we had some nice, newer ones. He got the saddest, most hang-dog look on his face and said, "Those were my measuring cups from my bachelor days...." Say What?!? I really couldn't wrap my head around why the measuring cups from his single days would be so important. All I could picture was them taking up extra space in the kitchen drawers that we don't really have to spare. But I did what any good wife would do, and told him he could keep them, therefore protecting his sacred cooking memories from his bachelorhood. Adam ended up tossing them out on his own. Marriage, it takes compromise. However, I would have happily kept the cups, in exchange for his really gross, cheeto-stained, and ripped kitchen towels from his "bachelor days."

It doesn't matter how much we had prepared for the move, the day of the move still sucked. It was very hot, and by the end of the day we were sore, cranky, tired, and dehydrated. But on the plus side, we had our DVR service transferred the same day. So we found a way to not even go ONE DAY without TV, does this say something about us as couple? The next day we woke up feeling just as bad, but we had to go clean up the old place. When we got to the cottage, I saw the mountains and mountains of dog hair that needed to be cleaned up (how does that dog even still have any hair?), and all we still had left to do. Yes, I will admit to crying over having to do so much cleaning.I will blame this on both my fatigued state and the injustice of it all (ha!). Oye, that was a pathetic moment.

We are all moved in now, and enjoying the new place. I think Sarah has finally figured out that this is her home now. We are enjoying the eccentricities of our new neighborhood. Not only do we have an ice cream truck, we also have a hot dog truck, and a man that sells strawberries door-to-door. I will not be moving again, anytime soon.

365 days ago (give or take):

1. Number of Freeways I’ve driven on: 1 (accidentally and traumatizing). 2. Number of Freeways I’m planning on driving on in the future: 0 (Are you kidding?!? See above).

Stats on my life in California as of last year.

Incidentally Everybody Poops...

On the first day that Adam and I moved into our new place, I noticed something quite peculiar. When I went to the bathroom for the first time, I discovered our toilet was lopsided. (Note to everyone looking for a new place-test out the toilet!) I have never been the most coordinated person, so I worried that I might tumble off & hit my head on the sink. Then, of course, my obituary would read, "Girl Dies in Freak Toilet Accident,” and that just isn't how I want to go.

Three months to the day that we moved in, I suddenly realized that I could no longer sense the lopsidedness. Also, Adam can't either. If this isn't evidence of mind over matter, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS!

Like The Jeffersons We're Movin' on Up

After much anticipation, we are moving into our new place tomorrow. Luckily I'm a weakling, so I will just be sitting back drinking sweet tea and thumbing through Cosmo as my hunky hunky fiancé and his friend move everything around me. I'm just kidding. I promise I will be handling all the smaller items, the cleaning, and putting things away in the new house.

I will also be dancing around the guys like a gerbil on a sugar high screeching things like, "Don't Hit the Walls!" "You're Going to Trip!" "That’s not where it goes!" "Don't drop it." "I think it needs to be move two centimeters to the right." "No, no let's try it the other way again!" And by the end of the day both of them will start to think that 25 years to life spent in prison might not be so bad if it would get them just one moment of peace and quiet.

But tomorrow evening when I take a bath in my new claw foot tub, and finally get to enjoy being in the new place, I might just be the happiest, luckiest girl in all of California.