"Tomorrow, tomorrow...

...I don't think I like you much, tomorrow!" But I will be very glad when you're over.

It's test day. I know my brain will be fried by the end. I'm trying to solidify what I know now and just give up on the rest. It probably won't make much of a difference anyway...but it might. And if I don't do it I will just keep getting more and more nervous. I just hope I can get to sleep at a decent hour tonight since I need to get up early to get there on time. I'm sure it will be one of those nights where I dream that I forgot everything and am late for the test or can't find it or show up naked or some such nonsense.

It's beautiful outside, though slightly chilly, so I think I'll head to the park for a while and read there. Or go for a walk if I can relax enough.

M. won't be home tonight until after 8 pm. Turns out the other night he didn't get home until 4 am since he was stuck at a friend's house and ended up walking home. He was apologetic and mad at his friend. I said all he had to do was call to tell me where he was or have me come get him, but he hates "checking in." I don't know how many times we've had that conversation.

An apartment opened up next door that I called about, thinking it might be the right distance to move. Am still thinking about that a bit.

Also, met a funny dog on one of my taking-a-break walks yesterday. It was a medium-sized white poodle and came running out at me barking. I jumped off of the sidewalk toward the street but it stopped at the edge of its woodchips and lawn, stared at me for a moment, barked again, and then started spinning around furiously kicking woodchips everywhere. I smiled gingerly and continued down the sidewalk where it ran ahead of me (still on its lawn) and did the same thing at the other corner where I noticed that the sidewalk was scattered with lots of woodchips. Seems to be a common occurance. Silly dog. I miss our animals at my parents' house. Can't wait until my life and location are stable enough to get a pet again.

Home, Empty Home

Had ceramics class tonight. The hand is still bothering me a bit; mostly with wedging and the fact that I can't tell how wet and therefore slippery my hand against the clay is so it gets caught sometimes. It's getting much better, however. Hopefully by next week it will be healed. There is also a throwing thing this Saturday that I might attend depending on how I feel after the monster nine hour test on Friday. It really is inhumane.

After class I went to hang out with my friend for a while. We watched some shows and talked a bit. I didn't get home until late. No M. to be found. Despite the fact that his last words to be before I left were, "I'll be here when you get back!" Cripes. Oh well, gives me a chance to write and maybe even study a bit before I fall asleep. He's probably out with his friends/coworkers.

We had a bit of a talk the other night. I keep wondering if I should move out and he's worried about it. I'm just putting everything off until after the test but I'm dreading having to really think about it. We talked about how you know if you're right for each other and when you're sure and if we're sure.

He said that he "could see" himself spending his life with me. And that he sees himself with someone "like me." But not me? I'm wondering as he's saying this. So I talk with my mom later and she has a good point about him not feeling secure with the way I feel for him. She says that when (if?) I finally make up my mind, whoever that is will finally feel secure enough to admit that whole-heartedly he feels that way, too. Isn't that a Catch-22? Deciding is just so difficult--a leap of faith.

The last couple days have been really nice. Just more relaxed and comfortable and considerate even. I don't know why that isn't always the way we are. A lot to do with my perspective and attitude, I know. And probably too much to expect all of the time.

Kaleidoscope

This is my new quilt and shams; and my current favorite study spot; and where I'm sitting right now!

This is really just an experiment. I am trying to figure out the best way to publish pictures to this site.

Okay, I'll admit it, I'm also taking a study break (although that has been going well so far today...the studying, not the break) and looking for something to do that will be a distraction but won't get me too far off track.

Worlds Colliding Gently

Yeah! Did well on the last practice test that I've been using to help me study. If only I can keep my head on straight for the nine hours of the real test on Friday I think I'll be fine. Or I hope I'll be fine. I want to be fine. Oh, heck, I'll be fine! (Trying positive thinking here.)

Maybe going out the last two nights actually was good for my mental state, if a distraction. Had a nice dinner with M. last night then went out with him and his friends (a very rare occurrence). Fortunately I found some of my other friends there to talk with while he was ostensibly trying to round up girls for his friends. Course I busted him later dancing in the middle of about four other girls with their hands all over him. Men! Thing is, I'm not really that upset. Haven't figured out exactly why, probably the fact that I know he really does think I'm the best going option, so nothing of significance would happen with girls he just met at a bar. Nothing of emotional significance that is.

At dinner we got around to talking about how we would be as parents, too. He says he wants to be the fun parent and that I would have to be the enforcer. In the first place I'm not great at enforcing and in the second place, who wants to be the mean one? I said we would have to have a unified front and he just changed the subject. A little worried about how he'll be as a dad, I am. He doesn't know how he'll be either. I don't think he's actually given it much thought. Don't guys see that as part of their future? At least the ones who want it? And the rest have thought about it enough to know they don't want it? Seems like sort of a big part of life to just sort of fall into backward...or frontward. He quoted someone saying that the best part about having kids is making them. In my opinion that is only the beginning.

Then on the drive back from dinner he started talking about making an investment in me or something...like getting me a ring. Yikes. While I have known that was coming, it still freaks me out. He feels that will have to happen to convince me to get into a program where he's going. I feel I will have to be sure I love him for me to do that.

It's funny in today's world with people able to move all over the place and become so distant from all the culture they have known. Across the world with different ethnicities it is, of course, more pronounced in some ways. But even coming from different parts of the country, or the mingling of your parents, or your town, it gets things muddled in an interesting way (not a confusing way like this paragraph I just wrote).

What I mean is that you grow up thinking that everyone's world is like yours. As you get older and get out more you realize that everyone's world is very different from yours in a lot of ways. It takes even longer to start to see that the subtle differences in values and priorities and goals are really want make people connect or not. You grow up in a family which prioritizes dreaming and ideals and mix that with a family that places more emphasis on stability and companionship and it can be a hard sell. Neither is wrong, of course. They just approach things differently.

I think I'm going to take a study break and head to the gym. My hand is healing but I'm not sure it will be ready for a swim. Maybe I'll just study on the elliptical. So it's not really a break then...bugger.

When it Rains

The kids next door were all out at recess when it started to rain--rather hard. I am still studying at home and heard the rain start to patter on the roof as the screams and giggles from next door became louder. Looking out the window I saw them all running in the building in less than their normal well-behaved queue.

On Fridays they appear to be able to wear whatever clothes they want so the uniform look was a bit more muddled. They looked more like the kids I went to school with--except those clothes were from the 80s and awful, even then.

Nearly all of the kids had returned to the building as the two last girls who looked about 11 years old came running up from behind. Their heads were bent to avoid the worst of the rain spatters. The girl in front carried a ball. As they passed a metal rail, the trailing girl stopped on the far side and looked at the other. No words were spoken. The first girl laid the ball down and joined her friend on the other side of the bar holding on with their hands and curling around it at the waist. One look was exchanged then they flipped around the wet bar simultaneously. The first girl picked up the ball and they ran giggling into the building to get out of the rain.

I giggled, too.

One Second

Every morning when I got up after he left for work at the crack of dawn I found one second left on the microwave timer--occasionally two. I wondered about it on and off but never asked him what it was all about. Maybe he was just in a hurry to get his morning oatmeal out, I thought vaguely. We'd been living together for three weeks or more by the time it finally dawned on me. He must wait next to the microwave to open it before it went into its repetitive loud beeping so it wouldn’t wake me up.

Each morning since then, if he leaves while I’m still in bed, I see one second left on the microwave display. I cherish that one second and leave it there as long as I can, sometimes until the next morning when he will do it again. It symbolizes his thoughtfulness--something that doesn't come as often anymore now that we have been together for three years. Not as often as it used to. It makes me sad even now as I write this.

And as I get up to get a tissue it reminds me that he does that for me, too--when I start to cry. I don't know if that is genuine thoughtfulness or the doctor training coming out. You cry, we offer a tissue. It becomes a reflex, but still a symbol of caring and recognition.

He's gone now. Out for the night with his friends; he likes to do that and does it a lot. I ask to go, but he never wants me along. Says he needs his time with his friends. He likes to keep his worlds separate. I can understand that, but it still hurts.

My brother wrote a story about his new girlfriend that he wanted me to edit today. It was very sweet. He thinks the world of her already after just a few months. And from all reports at home she has fallen for him, too. I can't wait to see them together in person when I visit at Christmas.

My dad asked me tonight if I feel the way that my brother wrote about Mike I don't think I do. Things are fine. I just always pictured more than fine. Mike tells me men approach relationships differently; they want someone they can get along with and spend the rest of their life with, nothing less--or more. I don't know if that's entirely accurate. I don't think all guys think that way. In fact, I've dated guys who at least convinced me that they didn't think that way. And I know my brothers don't. They wouldn't try to trick me. So maybe some think enough is enough. He does. I'd rather be more than the best going option. Makes me feel like a car or one of the motorcycles he loves so much.

And now we're living together and I have this big test on the near horizon that I'm supposed to be focused on completely. Things will look better in the morning; they always do. But it won't fix everything. There will be a lot of hard work on that front once this exam is over. My head is starting to pound just thinking about it.

It will take much more than just one second.

Flower pot I made last year. 

I fought the sidewalk...

...and the sidewalk won. I hate it when that happens. Out for a run yesterday on the usual route, had my iPod all set and suddenly my toe catches one of those uneven parts on the sidewalk squares and I try to catch myself with my feet (to avoid the collision--it worked last time) but no luck. Hand, knee, and knuckles all scraped up.

My second thought (after OUCH!) was that I couldn't throw at pottery class tonight. Then it was pretty much back to ouch for a while as I was being a giant baby...and it really did hurt. M. took me back to our place to get it doctored up. I guess it gives me good perspective on how much pain people are in and so then I can remember that and be as sensitive as possible when I treat them. Always some sort of silver lining.

And I did end up being able to throw in pottery; I just used one of my extra latex gloves from first year gross anatomy lab and it worked okay. Couldn't tell how wet your hand or the clay is but that was just another new challenge for throwing. Plus I had some glazing and whatnot to do also which was okay one-handed. My head is too scattered much of the time to focus on throwing really well anyway these days, but that's another issue.

Next Door

For those of us who do not yet have children but in any previous evolutionary setting would have by now the relationship with kids is both teasing and relieving. What is mean is that part of me really would like to have little ones of my own but the other part also knows that I have much to do before that point. And it's nice to enjoy the freedom in the interum.

I just moved across town and now live right next to a Catholic school complete with uniforms and happy kid recess noises throughout most of the day. I didn't notice it as much until I started staying home all of the time to study for one of my accredidation exams. Now I know their schedule and hear the buses come and go and even recognize a few of them. (No, I have not been looking out the windows all of the time. I actually do study...more often than not at least.) My favorite time is when all of the "walkers" get excused for the day (after the bus riders and car riders). They are the neighborhood kids and just pour out of the big cement building. Some of their parents walk to pick them up. Some of them are the crossing guards with the stop signs. It's so organized and chaotic at once. The are so full of life; it's almost intoxicating.

My time like that seems very long ago now. It's hard to rememeber all of the events and emotions and friendships that you feel at that age. Watching them now, pieces of that come back. I can only imagine that when I actually do become a parent instead of just a vicarious observer, more of those feelings will come back and I hope I can remember what it's like to be learning everything for the first time or to feel so out of place in junior high or to make your way through life.

Feeling Strangely...

Feeling strangely...fine? Met a new place to explore yesterday. It's a pleasant surprise as I'm displaced from all places I found familiar as a kid, college student, and after. I've been here three years and have yet to find a favorite escape. Thankfully (maybe) I'll be leaving soon for "The Great Beyond." I call it that just because I don't know where it is yet. I'm applying for positions across the country to see where I can find a good match.

Anyway, the new place to explore is just up the hill from here; a big park with lots of wooded trails. As I was there studying yesterday two wedding parties came by to take their pictures before the main event up at the building in the center of the park. Must be good if people choose to get married there, right?

So many of my friends and classmates are married around here; it's a different climate that way than California. Their whole wedding planning everything sounds like a giant headache to me right now. But maybe that's just because it's not right for me yet. Which is unfortunate perhaps because I think my boyfriend believes it is. Yes, indeed, more to think about...and an entirely different "great beyond."

It's a full moon tonight. It is giant and really bright through the window. It makes me think of when I was in Italy as a Junior in High School feeling very excited but also very far from home. There was a group of 20 of us. Even my current crush (who I later found out was gay which explained a lot) was there. For some reason my girlfriends had decided to braid all of my then quite long hair into little tiny braids. It looked ridiculous. Long blonde hair in lots of braids was not a good idea. Anyway, that is when the teacher/leader decided to come around and ask each of us what our favorite memory of the three-week long trip had been. I didn't know what anyone else was saying (which is high school is of course of paramount importance) so I said something about learning that even places all the way around the world share the same moon and that when I would look at now I could think of there and from there I could think of Italy. It sounded silly when I listened to it on the tape later. Especially when it was surrounded by other people saying "Gelato!" or "the David." In high school you just want to be normal. I wish that memory didn't pop into my head sometimes when I look at the moon. It still makes me cringe a little. But even still, if you have not yet taken a look at the moon tonight, you should; it really is beautiful.