Sunday, November 22, 2009

Nothing Like a Heartache

Breakups sucks. Let's just get that out there right now. It doesn't matter if you're the heartbreaker or the one getting your heart broken, it's not easy. It's not easy to tell someone that you've grown close to that your feelings have changed. It's even harder to hear, especially when the person that's saying it to you is a kind and decent person and they've never done anything to you that you can be mad about.

Obviously I wouldn't be writing about this if I were happily in love. I'm certainly not happy at this moment, but I'm probably still the other thing.

It seems as though you spend all this time talking and gushing about someone to friends and people you know and you just never expect to have to "un-do" all of that. Worse than hearing that things aren't what you wanted them to be, you end up having to let people know that there's this big gaping hole in your heart so that they either a) know to keep the salt miles away from your open wound or b) unknowingly just poured 20 pounds of it in there.

My first reaction was to remove all reminders so that I didn't see them every time I turned around. The easy part: putting everything away so that you don't inadvertantly bring yourself to tears. The hard part is getting the memories to stay away and, for me anyway, to keep from feeling like a complete idiot for being that gushing, happy, oblivious person.

I've been in some pretty crappy relationships and I've made millions of excuses for those guys. Interestingly enough though, this one wasn't crappy I'm not the one making excuses this time. I've decided that I deserved this relationship. I deserved to finally know what it felt like to have been treated well. I deserved for someone to be thoughtful and caring and concerned about me, where I've been overly all of those things to other people. And I refuse to let anyone, even those that love me the most and want to make me feel better, belittle him or what is no longer.

It is what it is. I appreciate the honesty and can't argue with the outcome. I've learned a lot over the last 10 or so months. I'm certainly a better person for the experience. I just thought it'd end a lot differently. I'll be fine, though. Eventually...

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Food, Glorius Food

I love food. If you know me (or have ever seen me), you know this. While I enjoy foods that are good for you, I love the bad things even more. I doubt I'll ever be a calorie counter. I look at the packages and whatnot, but I don't really keep a tally of my caloric intake; I more look at it to see how awful what I'm about to eat is. I will say though, if I get on a roll where I'm working out consistently, I will eat better, though it doesn't always feel like I'm doing any better than I was before. I tend to eat things that are more nutritious, but I'm also hungry more often. I can't figure out if this is because my body just needs more food or if it's because healthier foods aren't as filling. I've never claimed to be a nutritionist and I could really care less either way. If I'm hungry, I'm going to eat.

There are things that I feel like I could eat three meals a day for days on end and never get tired of them. Spaghetti is one of them. I must eat this more often than I realize because I mentioned that I went to an Italian restaurant this past weekend and The Boyfriend knew that I ordered spaghetti without me even telling him. I don't always get that when I go there. A lot of the time, yes, but not every time. I was quite surprised that he knew this, especially considering we've never eaten there together. I guess he knows me even better than I thought!

Sushi is another one. I'm pretty much up for whatever someone wants to order when getting sushi. Spicy tuna isn't my favorite, but I'll eat it. If it has spicy mayo, cream cheese, eel sauce, or any combination of the three, I'm there. Sadly, I don't think I've eaten sushi since The Boyfriend left and I'm craving it. It's possible that I won't have it until he finally gets back either. If that's the case, he may see me grow a snout and hooves right there at the table. (Have I ever mentioned how much sushi we ate on our first date? Neither of us could believe how much food was in front of us, but we tried our best to finish every bite.)

I like a variety when I'm eating, too. Not just with sushi, but with anything and everything. If I have condiments, I need at least two. I have to really hold back when going to Chick-fil-a because they look at me cross-eyed when I ask for barbeque, Polynesian, ranch and Chick-fil-a sauce to go along with my 3 strip combo. Yes, I need all four sauces, I'm not just being a hoarder. Everyone (okay, maybe not everyone) makes fun of me because I line all the sauces up and go in order when dipping. I go from left to right, one sauce per bite and go through this cycle until I'm finished. I'm not OCD or anything.

I know it's some sort of sin, but I happen to love ketchup on my steak. I'm trying to wean myself off of doing this, since I'm fast approaching my thirties and all, but I just really like it. The older I've gotten, the more I've realized that this habit is probably becoming less and less acceptable. When I saw my mom doing it, I thought that if she's allowed to eat ketchup on her steak, so am I. However, if I'm eating steak with someone who has vocalized their displeasure with my doing this, I won't do it in front of them. The chances of me finishing the steak are far lower in this instance, though. So if you're one of those people and you're buying the steak, please be aware. ;-)

My favorite fast casual place to eat has to be Chipotle. In my office, we all have a special place in our hearts for it. It's one of those words that, once said, cannot be forgotten. Because of this problem, we dubbed it The C-Word. It's much easier to eat what you brought from home or something cheaper or healthier if the word hasn't been spoken. Saying it out loud and not eating it is almost a sin. Thank goodness I had it for lunch or else Jillian would be fired tonight and it'd be me, my couch and a burrito bol tonight. Instead, I'll be letting Jillian torture me and wishing I'd just eaten that stupid SmartOnes for lunch.

I'll try to be better tomorrow. Maybe...

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

It's Been Too Long

I don't even remember the date of my last post, that's how long ago it was. And what makes it even worse is that The Boyfriend has posted twice since then! I feel as though he cheated a little because he posted something like two times in three days. But still! No girlfriend should let the posts be up for close to (if not more than) a week before she reads them either. For that, I'm apologetic, but also am blaming that stupid Big Girl Job.

Speaking of the Big Girl Job... A couple of weeks ago, I had to take a last minute trip to San Francisco that really tested how well I am capable of functioning on little to no sleep. I'm sure it sounds all glamorous that I got to go all the way to California, but traveling for work is harder than working in the office. I did get to see a little bit of the city, but mostly in the dark. If you happen to be planning a trip there, I can certainly direct you to San Fran's finest FedEx Kinkos stores. Their employees aren't all that helpful at first, but if you call them in excess of 20 times in a three hour period, visit more than two of their locations and spend the wee hours of the morning with their employees, they start to realize that you mean business and that they aren't going to be able to get away with shoddy workmanship. Just be sure to bring your own personal security. Of all the services that they provide, a bodyguard isn't one of them.

About a third of the way in to the flight from Phoenix to Orlando, one of the flight attendants came over the loud speaker and said "Ladies and gentleman. If there is a doctor or nurse on board, please press your call button." If you know me at all, you know that at the sound of this I was on red alert. It turns out that a lady sitting a few rows in front of me was, for lack of a better term, blitzed. Evidently, she couldn't talk and when she tried, she would just end up spitting. Being the expert lip-reader that I am, I was able to make out a flight attendant saying that the lady had taken too much medication and had too much to drink. She wasn't bad enough off for us to need to make an emergency landing (which probably would've made this post 10 times more exciting), but she did have paramedics waiting for her once we got to the gate. With the assistance of a couple of them, she walked off the plane and made it safely to a wheelchair just inside the airport and that was the last I saw of her.

I'm still trying to get back into the groove of normal life. While my suitcase is unpacked and put away, my apartment still looks as though an F5 tornado went through it. I finally managed to clean my desk up yesterday because I simply could not function with the mess any longer. It's Tuesday and I haven't written my letter to my brother yet this week. And my attempts at working outs are a joke.

I'm taking any suggestions that anyone might have for how to turn things around quickly. I'm also accepting applications for live-in maids.