Square one
ARRGGGH I totally did jinx myself. Although we had a verbal agreement, the seller decide to put the condo off the market. A (silly, superstitious) part of me thinks that it’s because I posted about it. So no more posts about moving until every i is dotted and every t crossed.
Growing pains
I finally did it — I decided to buy a condo. I never went through with it because it seemed like such an enormous commitment, but now that I know that I will be staying around for at least 4 or 5 years it makes sense. I have an offer on a lovely, sweet little place right now that doesn’t look like those McCondos that they build nowadays with their fancy equipment and new smell and highly clinical feel. With some repairs and remodeling, I think it will be a peaceful place to call home for the time it will take to (start and) finish school. What I really fell in love with is the surroundings: lots of trees, flowers, animals and even tiny faux ponds. I can just see myself calling chipmunks to help me dry my laundry and having little chirping birds help me dress every morning while I sing falsetto.
Premature postulation* before they accept my offer? I hope I just totally didn’t jinx myself.
* TM how i met your mother, kind of.
Potemkin village – population: me
Potemkin village was my word(s) of the day today, which was highly appropriate. Yesterday I was high on the world and today I’m unbelievably depressed. I might look like I have it all together, but inside, I just feel like breaking down and crying. I confirmed yesterday that my ex is in a relationship after one year of us breaking up (which, of course is a reasonable amount of time, but I hate it that I can’t reproach him for being a fucking jerk). It’s not that I want him back, because we were not right for each other and it took me some time to come to terms with that. The cold hard truth is that things like these still do affect me, even though I wish they didn’t because I feel like I’m losing the breakup, and losing at life.
It’s just one of those days, but it will pass. Maybe I should wear my low cut shirt again.
Firsts
If you knew me in real life, other than knowing for a fact that I am of course, awesome*, you would also know why the phrase “flat as a pancake” was invented. For those women out there who are blessed with curvaceous womanly figures, you might not know that there is such a bra size as AA. It’s the size that should only exist in fairy-tales along with unicorns and leprechauns, because absolutely no grown woman should have to suffer the indignities of buying bras in the girls section of Target (all the while looking around and saying “ooh I think this will fit my very, very young sister” even though you’re lying because your sister is a fracking size D. How is that fair, people?). Anyway, calling my boobs AA is generous. (Of course I expect some men will know of such things — which reminds me, once my friend was pretending he was a woman in one an internet chat room, when someone asked for his bra size. His response that still totally cracks me up? 33D. Hee).
Sorry, I am good at making long stories even longer. The point is, this weekend I went to the movies with a bunch of people from church, and I was wearing a pretty low cut shirt (which, referring to the above paragraph, revealed absolutely nothing). In the middle of a conversation with a guy, I saw his gaze drop down. And then he did it again. Finally it hit me… OMG he’s totally checking out my boobs! No one had ever done that before! And even though this is setting feminism back at least 5 years, I felt vindicated after all those years of having to stuff kleenex in bras just to make them fit and not look all wrinkly underneath shirts.
So thank you, unnamed person in real life, who blatantly checked out my boobs for the first time. I feel like I crossed the threshold into womanhood now.
*said in the most ironic of manners.
Dysthymia
I am thankful that I am in a place right now where I am happier and more stable than I used to be. It’s hard to explain exactly what it’s like living with depression. It’s always there, looming in the background, waiting for your defenses to drop and attack. The minute something goes wrong in my life (from big events, like getting my heart broken to petty ones, like someone giving me a nasty look), I feel open to disaster. The moment right before my depression is triggered feels like those moments when everything is still — and you see a very subtle mist coming, and before you realize it you’re in the middle of a thick wall of condensed fog and air and you don’t know where you are or what you are doing. It’s not something that I can help, or that I do consciously. It just happens, and I have to learn how to deal with it.
Dysthymia is sometimes called chronic depression. Before I used to think it was something that I needed to get rid of, but now I look at it like a disease, like alcoholism. I am always going to have it and I’m always going to have to battle it. It’s exhausting, but there are days — there are days when the sun penetrates the mist, even some days when everything is just bright and wonderful, and those days are worth the struggle.
p.s. there are also days when I would roll my eyes at such a sappy entry, and punish myself by watching 2 hours straight of american idol (sans alcohol).
My Tai
I know, I know, the title is the literary equivalent to having a hula girl on your dashboard, but I couldn’t help myself. I like kitschy sometimes, and things involving alcohol are always a plus. And, let’s face it: this ain’t literature.
This week, my parents were in town visiting, and I completely forgot to leave some brownies out of Tai’s reach. A panic-stricken twenty minutes followed, and after that, two hours of absolute hilarity. Dogs on chocolate = bass player on a punk rock band high on speed. Tai in general is a very sweet, adorable girl. She doesn’t bark much and when she hangs out in the apartment, she is super laid back. But this time, the girl took some crazy pills. She was running around everywhere, and was having dog hallucinations which I can only hope involved her being a secret cia agent spying on neighborhood squirrel activity. She dropped down, got back up again, dropped down again, did 180 turns… all in the blink of one eye.
I think I know what I want for my birthday: Tai on 3 oz of chocolate. She makes me giggle.
