Steel Family

One of my favorite movies of all time is Steel Magnolias. There are a few really good reasons why. First, I think there's something about a movie revolving around a group of women that will always appeal to other women. No matter how different you may be from the characters in the plot, there's just something about women and the responsibilities and shared experiences that we have that will always appeal to us because we can relate. Second, it's a wonderfully acted movie. There's raw emotion in those performances, which is part of what makes a movie great. Third, and most important for me, is the depiction of family and belonging in the movie.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've always envied other people who have large families and are close with even their far extended cousins and family members. Even small families who have tight-knit relationships have been the subject of my jealousy. I've always wanted to have a large, loving family. I've wanted to be surrounded by relatives on holidays, keeping in touch via phone, internet, or mail when we're not around each other. The sense of community and belonging that other people have with their families is not only foreign to me, but it is also very much lusted for and sought after.

There's something about that dream that I have come to realize: it is nearly impossible to achieve. No matter how much I want it, no matter the extent of my willingness to work for it, I cannot have what other people do not want. My immediate family is stressed by the financial and environmental circumstances that we face. It's much easier to draw back, to isolate, and in that isolation to lose sight of who we are and what is important to us. Our relationships are so strange now that it's hard to imagine how we can come back from all the hurt or stress.

Many of my desires for a larger family were met by marrying JJ. My in-laws are a large and loving group. Family holidays are often wonderful events full of love, laughter, and life. Seeing them together has taught me a great deal about what it means to be a family. More than that, seeing the way that they handle conflict has taught me about how families can grow and change, how groups of people can disagree but continue to love each other in spite of that. Yet, lately, even my husband's strong family has had troubles that have brought us all to our knees. There have been incredible, unbelievable disagreements, horrible circumstances that have changed everything, and an almost amazing inability for certain members of the family to see past their own feelings. Even I have been black-balled by a portion of the family for saying something that I had been asked to say in benefit of another member of the family. (Don't think for a moment that it saddens me to see things this way. What was said was said with good reason and was said politely. There is no reason for me to be seeing negatives, but I'm not sad that I am. I simply hope that reason or logic will someday prevail.)

Eventually, as is with the ebb and flow of true family, I know that my in-laws will all come back together. Soon enough, things will change for the better, and they will be able to see past the hurt and circumstance. I have faith in the strength of my family, their family, and I am sure that things will right themselves. In the mean time, I have chosen to learn and grow.

The thing that I have come to realize over the years (and especially lately, with family circumstances in my extended family and with my in-laws) is that you cannot force people to be your family. Family is as much a bloodline as it is a choice. One can be related without being a family, but what I want the most is a family. Moreover, what seems like a small fight or small slight can be more than that. It can burn a bridge. A person's lacking response to an attempt at reaching out can have a lasting impact or hurt. Those things don't always go away, and people don't always forgive. When I choose to do something, I need to mean it. I can't just do something without thinking of the consequences because those consequences may be bigger than I've ever imagined.

I've written before about my paternal grandmother. She was amazing. I think our family would be a great deal closer if she hadn't died when she did. When I think about her and the way she held our family together and about JJ's grandmother and the way the family revolves around her, I realize that I have a lot to live up to in the way of matriarchs. Someday, I hope that I can hold a family together in the way that my grandmother and JJ's grandmother did and do. If I ever have children (which, as of right now, is a pretty big if), I hope that they won't feel the same yearning for more family connections that I do. I hope I will be able to teach them how grateful they ought to be for their family. I hope that my children will appreciate their family, will be close to their family, and will love their family no matter what.

I don't know how to get the family that I've always wanted or to keep together the ones that I have. I'm willing to do the work. I'm willing to put aside differences, to apologize for past wrongs, to do as much as possible to keep in touch. I just need more family in my life. I need that support and love and connection. I've also realized that I need my family to need me as much as I need them. I need to know that I'm a part of something and that I'm wanted. I really hope that I find that soon.

Congestion and Condemnation

I may have mentioned in the past that, when I am sick, I turn into a totally baby. Of course, right now, I am sick. What started out as chest congestion that I was sure was due to my asthma has become body-wracking, hacking coughing, mucous, body aches, and a terrible attitude. I sound like a dying character in a movie or television show with my labored breathing and crackling wheeze. Needles to say, it is not pretty.

The worst part about being sick is that it reduces me to an angry, whining child. When I'm sick, I don't want to do anything, and my self-indulgence tends to get the better of me. I'm so miserable that I've been on the verge of tears all day. Hardly being able to breathe has made me dread getting up or walking around because I know that it's just going to be unpleasant. It's going to hurt, and then I'm going to struggle for the next ten or fifteen minutes to catch my breath without coughing so hard that it makes me pee a little bit.

It is times like these that make me miss my husband. Any time that I have ever been sick, he has done his best to take care of me. When we were first dating, he made me soup and tea and we watched movies on his couch. (This later lead to my story about watching The Notebook, which I have tentatively titled, "How Jessica Makes A Fool of Herself by Crying Like A Child for Forty-five Minutes."It's a good story. I'll tell you about it sometime.) He has always made sure that I have everything I need when I get sick, and he has always babied me, just like I love to be babied.

Alas, due to our current circumstances, we are separated. My family has little, if any, sympathy for me, in spite of the wheezing death knell that I have right now. Of course, having very little sympathy for me means asking me to go up and down the stairs, performing meaningless tasks. It's also manifested in watching me cleaning up dinner dishes from a meal that I wasn't even invited to partake in--in fact, I had to fend for myself when it came to dinner tonight. Being that we have nothing in the house, dinner for me consisted of Club crackers, salami, and cheese. That's going to help me get better quickly, right?

I guess my thesis here today is that I miss my husband, and I feel lousy. I wish that he could be taking care of me right now, rather than sitting by myself in this king sized bed, tearing up because I'm miserable and frustrated. I know I'm not a fan of self-pity in other people, but I'm taking a day to have a little for myself.

Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

I keep meaning to blog more often, but I feel like I don't have nearly enough to say on the regular to make any of those blogs actually worth reading. I meant to write a recap of my year, but the time slipped by me. It seems too little, too late on that front now. Alas! Woe! I fail at creativity! Instead, I shall spout generic updates.

First, my New Year was rung in fairly quietly. My friend, Ellen, came to get me and we spent a lovely evening chilling out. We went to a Chinese buffet, and then, we went back to her house to watch a movie. We watched Valentine's Day, which was good, if a little formulaic. We watched the ball drop on television, finished our movie, and then talked for a while. My night was fun and sober, so I have been keeping to my goals so far. Hopefully, this is indicative of the kind of year that this will be.

On the first, my dad and I made the drive over to Indiana--after several notable snafus--and spent the weekend in Indiana. I wanted to do so many things while I was there, but spending time with JJ was most important. We had dinner with his mother, went to a Chinese buffet with his father, went to lunch with our mutual friend Angie, and spend plenty of time just cuddling and watching movies.

It's interesting how much a person can enjoy cuddling when they haven't had the opportunity to cuddle for a while. You almost forget how nice it is to fit in someone else's arms. Notably, I have also missed having an opportunity to spend a weekend lounging in bed with JJ. It's been quite some time since I've had occasion to lounge in bed with someone other than just myself, but lounging in bed is especially appealing when another person is there to talk to, laugh with, and enjoy. It's even better when you can watch fantastic 80s movies like Night of the Comet, which was one of my favorite movies when I was growing up.

I also had a chance while in Indiana to go to dinner with my aunt, Maria. It was nice to get an evening with a supportive female who shares a portion of my genetic code. Sometimes, I forget what it's like to have female family members support me--which is more of a tale for a tell-all memoir than it is for a blog. My point is that it was nice to have some female bonding time. I realize that I have plenty of friends to bond with, but it's different when the female is a relative. There's a different energy there, a different kind of bond.

Mostly, I'm just glad that my life is more or less on track and that I had a good weekend. It was nice to get away from things for a while, spend a few days just relaxing. It was also nice to hear someone tell me that I have a healthy attitude and mindset. Sometimes, I tend to get a little too wrapped up in my negative qualities, and it's nice to hear that other people think that I have positive qualities. Above all, it was great to spend some time with JJ that was free of fights and drama. This was a very needed weekend for us, and I'm glad that we got to have it. Hopefully, things will stay on a positive trend for us.

2011, please be a better year than 2010!

Autumn's Chilled Arms

Much has happened since last I updated my poor, neglected blog. Leaves are turning, falling. Wind is picking up. The air has a chill now that comes with late October. I have forgone sleep for many hours. It's comfortable and familiar to my Midwestern heart. Autumn has always been my favorite season, but the cold of the air leaves a cold within me that I can't seem to kick until snows begin to fall. Oh, Autumn, you sassy wench! I love/hate you!

To begin with, AW's visit came and went. It was blissfully free of drama or event. I've never had so many people surrounding me at once. It was nice. I felt popular, well-liked. He was exceedingly quiet, which was not quite something that I expected. Yet, he gelled well with my friends. Charles, one of the basketball players that lives in my building, actually grew quite attached in the short time that they made each other's acquaintance. Endearing, no?

I've also managed a trip back to Indiana since last I wrote. JJ's cousin Matt was got married, and I was able to go to the wedding. It was a small, intimate ceremony. It was really lovely. We got to spend a little time with his family. Then, we went back to his father's house, where he's staying, and had some quality time to ourselves. There was no fighting or arguing. We simply enjoyed each other's company. It was comforting to sleep next to him again. I miss that physical intimacy. I was only able to be in town for a day, but it was still nice to be able to go.

I also went to a Halloween party and made a drunken spectacle of myself. I'm not proud, but I chalk it up to one of those normal college things. It's not like I'm getting smashed off my rocker each night and sleeping with strangers. I just got drunk once and said some idiotic things, sang too loudly, danced like a fool, and woke up hangover-free the next morning. All's well that ends well, I say.

There's not really too much else to say. I managed to get an A in my biochemistry class, which I wasn't sure was going to happen. Now we just have to see how I do in nutritional chemistry and pathophysiology.

One thing that I have found less than attractive about myself lately is how emotional I've been. I've been sullen, giddy, childish, indecisive, sad, jealous, and a host of other silly little things. I get offended so easily when it comes to certain individuals. Worst is what I am about to admit next...

I developed a ridiculous high school crush on one of the guys that hangs out with my group. I almost feel too humiliated to even admit it. As a friend so callously pointed out to me yesterday, he'll never see me the way that I see him. More than that, I'm a tangled mess of problems and people wanting wanting wanting from me. I don't have room for another. And those things are even before I mention the fact that I'm married and he's in a relationship (lest you be worried, I am not the type of woman who cheats or invites others into cheating, thank you). Sort of makes my stupid little crush seem like a moot and foolish point, doesn't it? I have a plan, though. First, delete phone number from phone, which I have already done once and plan to do a second time. Second, stop hanging out with this individual--not that he's not a great guy, but I really don't need the drama of extra stupid feelings. Third, never speak of this again. Please feel free to commence step three expediently.

I feel like I'm no longer sure what I want from my life. Nursing was a bust. I hated it. English or social work are good options, but I don't want to do all the bogus classes that I'm seeing my roommate taking right now for social work. I've always wanted to be a writer, but I really don't know if I can hack it. I don't think I'm that good. What to do? I'm still in the midst of wondering if this is me or autumn's cruel influence or both. I think sleep is much needed at this point.

Dorm Life So Far

So, my first weekend in the dorms has gone fairly well, I think. I'm not a huge fan of living with another person, but that has more to do with the mental state that I'm in right now than it does the other person. Melissa is my roommate, and she and I get along very well actually. We were supposed to have a third, but she was moved at the last minute. This is fine with me because it means that I don't actually have to share a room with someone--which would not make me very happy at all.

Moving in was actually relatively painless, considering all the crap that I had. The college had a staff of people who were supposed to help out with the moving. Joel and I ended up needing to make two trips because I had a lot of stuff. The first trip, neither he nor I had to touch one single thing. It was all carried in by the move-in crew. The second trip, he and I ended up making two trips. Melissa also helped to carry some of my stuff in, which was quite nice of her. I ended up having all of my things situated before it was even 3 PM. I did have to rearrange the bedroom since the flow of the furniture just made things much more complicated than they needed to be.

The first night, we had a fire alarm go off at 11 PM, closer to midnight even, because someone took a shower and the steam set it off. Yesterday (day two), the fire alarm went off again because of a shower on the second floor. Needless to say, if this is going to happen every time someone takes a shower, it's going to get really old really fast. The upside is that we now know that Sylvania police and fire departments respond to fire alarms very quickly. Hopefully, we'll never have to find out how they are at putting fires out.

I spent most of yesterday hanging out with the girls from my floor. They all seem really cool, and I think we'll all get along swimmingly. One of the girls, M. Jay, is from Los Angeles. Why she decided to come to Toledo, none of us can guess! Lexi and Catherine are local girls like Melissa and I. We all went to the graffiti party together last night, but Catherine, Melissa and I all left early. M. Jay stayed and hung out with the basketball players, and Lexi ended up leaving early to go meet up with her boyfriend.

I'm pretty sure I'm also the only married student in the dorms, which doesn't really surprise me much. Everyone was really surprised that I was married--which is really only mildly insulting, considering the circumstances. M. Jay is in a long distance relationship as well, though, so at least another person on my floor understands what I'm going through.

I'm so grateful for Skype. I'm pretty sure that  I'd hate being so separated from JJ if we didn't at least have the video chatting. Last night, we watched most of a movie before I got too tired to keep watching. Today, we'll probably finish. I also had another teary interlude with him on the phone. It occurred to me yesterday that, though I'm not a very emotional woman at all, being separated from JJ has made me exceptionally teary. At first, I couldn't cry. Now, I cry almost every time that we talk. It's strange, and I don't really like it. I don't like being emotional. Not even a little bit.

The college hosted a graffiti party for us last night. Basically, you're given a free t-shirt and a sharpie, then you're expected to sign each other. I knew I would hate it when we walked in to blaring rap music and flashing lights that would have set an epileptic to writhing in about three seconds flat. I'm trying to keep an open mind about my fellow students, but it's hard to take them seriously when they participate in events like this. My night was further tainted upon discovering that, apparently, Lourdes doesn't expect to have fat students, and thus does not stock t-shirts above a size 2XL. That's fine--if you want to see every single roll of fat on me. Needless to say, I was relieved when I left.

Perhaps dorm life is not for me. I mean, I'm older than most of the other students in the dorms. I'm cynical and mean most of the time. I'm hardly a "fun" person to be around. I don't really know what it is that I'm going to be able to contribute to this situation, other than the biting humor of a bitter woman. And, let's face it, college co-eds don't really appreciate that sort of humor all that much. It's mostly suited for middle-aged women, married women, and gay men--which is why all of those demographics love me. The rest, not so much.

I guess we'll see how the semester plays out.

Explanations and Weekend Excursions

I mentioned on Sunday that I would explain why one of my letter project posts was so late. Saturday, I took a trip over to Indiana to spend the day with my husband. There has been a plethora of family drama surrounding that little trip. Personally, I just wish that I could have spent a little more time with him without the pressure of having to meet a time limit imposed by a family member. It would have been nice to have time to relax, chill, and just sort of hang out for a while--maybe even take a nap (you know how I love to nap!).

It was nice to have some time together for the first time in well over a month. We went out to lunch together, watched Blade Runner, and just kinda chatted. I dozed off a little bit a few times. It would have been nicer if I hadn't been so tired, but we had to leave early so that I could maximize my time. I brought him a teddy bear wearing a t-shirt that read "Someone from Lourdes L<3VES Me!" which I purchased for him when I bought my text books and sprayed with my perfume. In an effort to feel a little more connected, I've sprayed a little penguin that he bought me at Owens with his cologne. I realize that that sounds cheesy and a little bit pathetic, but I think it makes it a little bit easier to adjust to the loneliness.

The bear, being held by JJ. We're calling him Francis because Lourdes is a Franciscan college.

Surprisingly, my mother has been supportive about the whole situation. My little brother has been cool about it. My dad, in a startling twist, has been kind of a douche about it. Mostly, I'm just really ready to be alone. I'm ready for dorm life just so that I don't have to answer questions about it or defend my feelings--not that all of them are asking that of me. It's just that it gets super wearing, even if it's only coming from one person. It just makes me feel so tired, like I could sleep for weeks.

Today, I've been full of tears. It's been awful. I'm sure that it has a great deal to do with being menstrual right now, but I really can't stand myself when I get like this. I cry at everything. I had to struggle not to cry when I wrote my letter blog earlier. I had to struggle not to cry while listening to Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here." Hell, I'll be honest about it, I'm struggling not to cry right now, and I don't really even have anything to cry about! I wish it could all be blamed on female hormones, but I think stress has a little something to do with it as well.

Friday, I move into the dorms. I'm nervous, excited, and a plethora of other emotions about it. My roommate seems like a pretty nice girl. She's pretty quiet, but I'm confident that we'll get along. I met up with her and her fiance last week. They both seem like they'll be fairly easy for me to get along with--and I say both because I get the impression that he'll be spending a lot of time around, which is totally fine with me. There's potential that we might have a third roommate with us, but so far, we haven't had any more notifications about that. I also have to keep studying, finish packing, and do some dorm room shopping all before Friday morning, when I move in. My dad also wants me to work on stupid data entry crap too. Frankly, I'm starting to freak out about how little time I have left to get my shit together.

I'm pretty sure, though, given my teary state--because, let's face it, I'm acting like the poster child for female hysteria--that I need to get some rest. At the very least, I ought to lie down and explore the idea of taking some quiet time for myself. We used to have Quiet Time as children. We couldn't leave our rooms and we had to be quiet, but we didn't have to take naps. We just had to be quiet. I did a lot of reading and thinking back then. I remember wondering what it would be like when I was a grown up, when I got married, wondering what it was like to be in love. Maybe Quiet Time is a good idea for adult. There should be mandatory afternoon Quiet Time in offices, I think. We might be a much more well adjusted society if we could observe that.

In fact, I think I'll go observe a little bit of my own quiet time right now...

Day Twenty-three: Person You Kissed Last

JJ,

You are the person I kissed last. I don't really have anything new to say here.

Except maybe to say please get a job soon. I know you're trying, but I'm tired of always being broke as a joke. Plz?? Kthnxbai!

Love,

Jessica

Day Twenty-two: Someone You Want To Give A Second Chance

Dear JJ,

I thought about writing this blog post to someone else for a bunch of reasons. For one, I'm trying really hard to kind of make this an experimentation in new things each day, since my old posts seem full of whining stagnation. For two, I'll admit that I'm a teeny smidge worried about what other people will think of me--not enough to stop me, but enough to put some thought into it before I continued. In the end, there was no one else that I could think of that would be more fitting for this topic than you.

I know that we've had our rough patches, but I have never doubted that you're a good person inside. I've always had faith in the fact that you're a good man and that you're capable of being an even better one. Lately, things have been going well for us, and I'm honestly surprised at how sensitive to and receptive of my feelings you have been. I really hope that this is a trend that continues for us. I'm glad that you're committing to trying to meet my needs.

I was really surprised at how much I missed you when I got over my anger. In retrospect, I'm also pretty surprised at how good you were at making me feel completely guilty for all the stuff that went down between us. I think you know me well enough to know that I don't feel guilty about all that much in my life--I'm really not all that invested in the feelings of others, especially not to the point of feeling good or bad about their feelings. That can only mean one thing: that I care very deeply about you. If you ever needed tangible evidence of that, examine how terrible I felt.

I've really enjoyed the support that you've provided me with in the midst of my recent bout of nervousness about my future. It would really be too easy for us to fall apart with our current situation, but it's really important to me that we don't. I don't want to think that the last five years were worth nothing. I want them to matter. I want us to matter, and I want to be able to have confidence in the fact that I matter to you. I need that.

Saturday, we'll be meeting up. I'm looking forward to spending some time with you, and I'm hoping that it all goes well. It's important to me that it does.

Love,

Jess

F.I.N.E. and the In-Between Post

So, somewhere in the midst of my letters project, I think it's time to make an actual post. Maybe it's motivated by my current emotional climate, but I do often find that it helps me to write it out sometimes. I guess I'm hoping for a little of the respite that I can occasionally find in writing.

Lately, I've been full of doubts. Normally, I'm pretty confident. I'm sure it's been clear from the tenor of some of the entries in my letters project that I'm having some difficulties with not feeling like myself lately. I feel like there are components that I'm losing, maybe that I've already lost. Pieces of myself that slip away from time to time. My ease with people, my confidence in myself, my ability to be honest, my faith in my relationships are all plunging.

I think about what happens if I screw up. I think about what will happen to my academic year if I don't get along with my potential roommates. I think about what will happen if I hate nursing, or--worse--if I'm no good at it. How will I choose a new career path? What will I do? Hell, I don't even like taking care of a simple little puppy, so it would only follow that I might absolutely abhor taking care of people. Just because I can stand seeing blood and guts, that doesn't mean that I'll be good at my potential future job. I'm more worried about what it will mean if I'm good at it but I hate it.

I worry about the state of my marriage, though things do seem to be getting better between JJ and myself. The guilt trips and the anger have stopped. We've been much more understanding of each other lately, and I'm more and more convinced that we'll get through this together. There are just times when I miss him terribly. Like today, having a bad mental day, I just want to be held--and not just anyone will do. I want to be held by the man that tells me that he loves me more than anything, that makes "the turtle face" just because he knows it makes me smile, whose hands envelop mine and make mine seem almost delicate (which they are definitely not). I want to be in that guy's arms. Right now.

I'd like to think that all this stress has to do with the total lack of any kind of restful sleep on my part as of late. Somehow, though, I fear that it's deeper than that. It's all coiling just below the surface to collect into one immense break during my semester. At least, that's my other fear here, that I'll be able to hold it in just until it will screw me over big time, at which point the dam will break and I'll crumble.

Lately, I just crave a simple solution. I wonder if I'd have one if I'd been just a little bit prettier, just a little bit skinnier, just a little bit smarter. Even just a little bit. None of those adjectives really seem to apply to me right now, but it would be fascinating to see what my life would be like if they did. Pretty, skinny, smart. How weird would that be? Would my life be easier? Would I know myself?

One of the things that I've been most incredulous about with the whole college dorm thing is my weight. How harshly will I be judged for it? How much harder will my life be because of it? How can I quick-fix it away? I've never been stupid enough in all of my life to consider starving myself or purging or anything like that--not to mention not having the guts to do any of those either--so there's no worry about that. I would really love it if the whole fairy godmother myth were real though.I know what my three wishes would be if I had a genie in a magic lamp.

It would just be nice if I could be calm. You know, they say that when you tell people that you're fine, what you really mean is Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional. I really wish that I wasn't doing FINE right now. Soon enough, I'll find my place again. I simply hate that I've lost it.

Day Two: Crush/Boyfriend

JJ,

I'm cheating the system here and opting to write to you. I figure the husband card trumps the boyfriend or crush card on just about any given day of the week. Any break-up that requires legal paperwork to be real must mean a serious relationship--just sayin'!

Needless to say, we're a little complicated right now. I'd love to say that I'm sure that things will work out and be perfect, but I just don't know anymore, which is daunting, saddening, and awful. I feel like we've changed a lot since we first started dating. In some ways, we've grown. In others, we've fallen apart.

One thing is clear: we have no idea how to fight like normal people. We throw open doors and put the knobs through walls (Yeah, that's right, I brought up my fight faux pas), storm off, hit walls, refuse to speak or other such nonsense. Normal people don't fight that way. Well-adjusted people don't function that way. Lately, I'd done everything I could to avoid fighting with you because I hate feeling as drained as I do afterward. It's like repeatedly throwing myself against a brick wall; in the end, I haven't accomplished all that much, but I'm super tired and sore. I don't want to fight like that anymore. I can't spend the rest of my life fighting like that.

I guess what I really want is for you to show me that there's something worth fighting for here because I fear we've lost it. I want you to prove to me that you're capable of being the man that you want to be. Show me that I'm worth fighting for, worth striving for. I need to feel like I matter enough to you for you to try and accomplish those three goals--even if you have to do it in another state, even if you have to do it alone. Prove to me that I'm worth it. That's all I want. That's what every woman wants, to know that she's worth having, worth fighting for.

Sometimes, I just feel like I've changed so much. I feel like I'm growing, but in a way that only I can do. I'm genuinely afraid that maybe we don't want the same things from life. You want babies and a family. I'm scared to death at the prospect of children. The idea of being totally responsible for another human being truly, honestly terrifies me. I want to travel. I want to do frivolous stupid things for the sake of them. I want to surround myself with a huge community of friends and have group vacations and brunches. I am not upset that I am not maternal, but I think you would be.

Do you remember when I asked you what first struck you about me? You told me that it was how sure I was of everything, how no one could tell me anything. I remember the girl that wanted to hold your hand that night in the cemetery. I remember how sure she was of herself. I feel like I've lost that girl. I don't remember who she is anymore. I need to find that girl again. I need to be sure of myself again. I can't be sure of anything else until I can be sure of me.

Maybe this is all 2 AM melodrama after a very long day, but please don't be mad about this post. Please think about it. Also, please be aware that I do love you. This separation, this difficult time that we're having doesn't invalidate the good times that we've had. It means that what we need is more of those times and less of what we've been having lately.

Love,

Jess

P.S.--Sorry this is so heavy. I intended to write something lighter, less personal, but this seems more honest. I blame the lateness of the hour and The Swell Season.

On Nights Like This...

My sleep schedule has been obliterated. I've pretty much abandoned any idea of sleeping like a normal person. I've also basically abandoned the idea of sleeping for more than just a few hours at a time. I recall when my days and nights were like this before. It's been at times in my life when I have been historically depressed.

For example, my teenage years were fraught with sleeplessness. I spent so many nights in front of my computer, blogging and chatting, listening to music and trying to fight my troubles away by attempting to write stories and poetry. I read. I half-assed my homework. I brooded over boys and my feelings, complicated as they were at the time. I did things at night because my mind just wouldn't shut off.

Later, in our apartment years, I did the same thing when I was taking time off of work. I joined a chat community. I watched anime. I wrote letters to inmates that I used to write to (Yeah, I'm weird. I know. But I always found those letters to be very rewarding). I baked. I cleaned. I went for walks. I did a million things because I got tired of trying to bullshit my way into sleep that wasn't coming.

My whole life's pattern has been that, in times of stress or depression, I don't sleep. Not nearly enough. I stay up. I fight the night. I fight my dreams and my worries. I fight my thoughts. I push myself to do something creative. I push myself to do something useful because of the burgeoning uselessness that threatens to envelop me. I have always been a sleep-fighter. Even as an ill little infant, my parents have told me that I never wanted to sleep for more than 20-40 minutes at a time. I spent most of my infancy crying and wakeful. Why should I be any different in my twenties?

So here we are again, dear old friend Insomnia.

I sit up at night. I chat with JJ or AW. I watch girl movies. I work. I search the Internet for random facts. I scour YouTube for music videos and amusing little skits. I keep fighting sleep. I keep fighting my dreams, my thoughts.

This will probably be the most reassuring constant in my life. This has been one of the only patterns that has ever held true in my life. It's strange, but it's the only thing that makes me feel normal. It's this time in the late night or early morning that really makes me feel like a part of myself. It's just me. There's never anyone else. Maybe it seems strange, but it makes me feel a little more in-tune with myself, with these feelings. It helps me understand them. Maybe, in that way, this insomnia, this vigil is a good thing. I like to think so.

Fantastic Messes

It's been a while since I've updated. I've been busy and haven't felt all that great about it. Mostly, it's necessary to say that JJ and I have been fighting a lot lately. Last week (towards the latter half of the week), we had a discussion that devolved into chaos. I won't go into the details because--not only is the wound a smidgen too fresh for me--JJ asked me not to.

Suffice it to say, he is in Indiana right now. I'm still in Ohio. I don't really know what to think right now. I feel bad because, in many ways, what happened between us was something that I allowed to happen. It's a product of every expectation that I had that I didn't vocalize. It's a product of my own actions, every time I let an issue go because it was just easier to shut up about it than it was to fight about it. In many ways, it's because I took the easy way.

Yet, I feel like there's more that I need. First, I need to get a little bit of personal independence. I'm going to regret it if I never live in the dorms at college. I don't know why, but I feel that it's true. That may be a lame explanation, but it's the best I can do. I also need him to make good on the promises that he's made. I need him to drive. I need him to get a job. I need so much for him to stop acting like I'm just a pain in the ass who's bent on ruining his fun and act like he actually loves me.

Don't get me wrong, I know he loves me. But it's been so strained between us lately. It's like we've forgotten what we're in this for. We've forgotten what we love about each other. I want us to be comfortable again. I think we need to work on our issues apart for a while. He needs to work on his anger and anxiety, and I need to work on the fact that I have a tendency to make everyone's lives revolve around me. These are problems. Maybe if I had a little more of a sense of myself, of who I can be without other people, I'd be more comfortable with being on the back-burner.

I just feel like there's so much that we need to figure out. There's so much that has to be explained or accounted for. We'll always be each other's excuse. I'll never figure myself out because I'll always say that someone else already knows me. He'll never figure himself out because he'll always have me to fall back on as a reason. We need to figure it out. Separate seems like a better idea right now.

All I know is that I'm confused. Sleeping in this bed alone is difficult. I've been sleeping sideways. I miss his smell, which is something that I've gotten incredibly used to. I hate having to fall asleep alone, waking up alone. I hate the silence because everything is so much quieter. I hate feeling like I'm ruining his life. That's mostly what hurts: the idea that I'm fucking this all up for more than just myself.

A silent question confronted me in the dark last night, and I couldn't find an answer for it. I'm not sure what terrified me more, the question or the absent answer. What was it? The following: What if I end up alone?

There was a time when I wasn't afraid of that. Now I'm not so sure.

Losing My Cool

At the risk of surrendering some of my hard-won cool points, I am forced to admit that I am a fan of the Twilight saga. Not a HUGE fan. Don't get me wrong. I don't have tattoos or t-shirts or jewelry or anything, but I did toy with the idea of buying a Team Jacob water bottle. However, due to my Twilight love--mostly, my love of Taylor Lautner, if we're being really honest--my husband decided that we needed to go see Eclipse tonight.

I was kind of surprised because I'm pretty sure that JJ actually hates Twilight. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he did, to be honest. I spent an awful lot of time gushing about it when I first read it. I have to imagine that it's easy for men to hate that which they hear too much about from starry-eyed women.

Let me just say that tonight's excursion was an exercise in frustration and self-loathing. I'm pretty sure that JJ and I were the oldest ones at the theater besides the parental units who were morally obligated to accompany their underage children. I'm also pretty sure that we were the only ones that weren't content to giggle like babies during the whole movie. Most of the things that they giggled about weren't even that funny. Mostly, what I really enjoyed about the movie was the shirtless Taylor Lautner. (Let me just say this: I understand that I'm older than him. That's okay with me. He's ADORABLE.)

The longer we sat around the teeny-boppers, the more I thought, "What am I doing here?! Why are we here on the second night of this movie at an evening showing?" Next time, JJ and I will behave like the old people that we are and see this on like a Thursday at 3 PM or something. No more regular show times. It made me feel just a little bit too pathetic.

On the amusing side, I got to witness a young man full-on crying because of the movie. I thought it was the girl next to me at first, but I could see her face. No tears were shining. It was the Hispanic guy next to her. As we left, JJ spotted a beer bottle on the floor where they had been sitting. We might be inclined to chalk his emotions up to the alcohol he may or may not have consumed, but I'm pretty sure that he was just overcome by the sweet, sweet emotion of Robert Pattinson proposing. Or maybe it was Taylor Lautner's abs. I'd cry about those too. They're basically perfection.

On the upside of the night, JJ and I were able to have a discussion about the things that I feel like I'm missing out on. For example, having a dorm room experience at college. I really want that. I know it's something that doesn't please him, and it complicates things. I just don't want to look back on these years and have regrets. I know I'd regret it if I never ever tried to live in a dorm. It just seems so vital to the college experience. I want that!

We also discussed the fact that I've reached a point in my life now where I was a teenager a decade ago. I remember things from a decade ago quite clearly. Hell, I can say that we took vacations to places OVER a decade ago. This, for some ugly reason, makes me feel old. Compound that with my Eclipse experience and you can see that I've had a fairly disheartening age day.

Despite my age-related disillusionment, I've had a pretty good day. I got out of the house, which was quite nice. Very needed!

Wake Up Laughing

Last night, something happened to me that's never happened before. I was dozing off, and I started to dream. I don't remember what I was dreaming about now, but it was funny because I woke myself up with laughter. I don't know if any of you have ever done that, Readers, but it's awesome. It feels fundamentally, irreproachably great.

My husband asked me what I was laughing about. I'm sure that I told him about my dream, but I can't remember what I said. It was just a quick dream. If I recall, it involved music and video games. But that's about all I know. He said I was strange, which I'm inclined to agree with. But then we had a dialogue that I do remember quite clearly which makes me laugh on the inside.

JJ: I shouldn't really be surprised. You talk in your sleep every now and again.
Me: I do? Really?
JJ: Yeah.
Me: What kind of stuff do I say?
JJ: Mostly, you just say "no."
Me: Haha! Really?!
JJ: Yeah.
Me: Do I say it with an attitude or something?
JJ: Is there ever a time that you don't say no with an attitude, Jessica?
Me: Fair enough, sir.

Even in my sleep, I will get snarky with people and tell them off. Good times!

Past Shock!

So, I'm looking back at my old LiveJournal--yes, again! Don't you judge me!--and I'm really surprised at its contents! I was really, ridiculously honest about some things, some intensely personal things.

Like what, you ask? This, for example:

But do I love him? Or am I just getting hung up on the familiarity that I find when I'm around him?

... I could spend pages describing him. It's easy for me because I was so focused on him.

When he walks, he slouches and automatically scowls. When he smiles, it always looks forced unless he's laughing. He's at his most adorable when he bites his lip and he doesn't even notice that he's done it. He used to wear T2 cologne and every time some one at a mall walked by smelling like it, I'd want to burst into tears. His nails are messy and bitten and it drove me crazy because I always like things to be neat. He has more video games than any one else I know. He's wildly smart, best at math and anything analytical, not as good at emotion. He's a Virgo, born on what I think is August 27th, if memory serves...

 But then there are things that are completely missing or incredibly vague and strange! For example, I had a friend who I wrote about here, AW, who was mostly absent from my LJ. This is suspicious to me because we talked so often, and at the time of the early days of my LJ, we had drama. (He was talking to one of my friends, and it made me feel significantly less paid-attention-to, which was incredibly important to my attention-whoring self at the time.) I started my journal at the end of August, 2003. He's mentioned September and October, no more by November. Here's one of my strange passages Apparently, we were fighting about me being rude because I said I was bored during one of our conversations:

Then, the Canadian and I got in a fight last night. That was unpleasant and I refuse to apologise. I have explained why I won't and I'm not going to lie about being bored! I have to be honest when I'm bored. So, if it's offensive, I'm sure you'll get over it or you'll die because you're overly sensitive. Either way, I will not be bored!

And this one:

So, I think I have finally become desensitized to the point that I can say what I want to say. And that's fine. That's gonna be something I do later. When I get a hold of a certain Canadian I need to speak to.

There were a few other mentions, but they were all vague and strange like that one. I was so vague about some things and so ridiculously honest about others. Every crush I had was poured out  for the world to see! Almost none of my entries were friends only posts at first. Over time, they became that way, but for the longest time, they were open to just about anyone that I gave the URL to. How interesting!

 My journal was also full of teenage hilarity:

Jennifer and I had a rather nice conversation last night though. My noodles are ablaze! And, when I was telling a friend of mine about that in homeroom, she said, "Grandma noodle soup?? What!" So, I think that has to be our next phrase! ^_^

 It's just so strange to look back on my past! There was even a passage about my disappointment that JJ, my at-the-time boyfriend turned husband, didn't kiss me when our relationship was fledgling. We had some really cute conversations about our new relationship. Super cute, yucky love stuff. Who would have thought that we'd get married?!

Mostly, I just marvel at some of the things that I wrote. Some of those passages were so insightful, things that I wouldn't have thought of even now. Then, Some of them were just teenage fluff. It's also weird to think that, in one form or another, I've been blogging for almost seven years. That's longer than I've known my husband, y'all! Crazy shit? I think so.

Also, I forgot about this song. And it's awesome.

Lazy Days of Summer

Alright, so color me lazy. Despite my being unemployed and unencumbered by burgeoning academic achievement (mostly), I have been neglectful of my blogging responsibilities! Alright, I'm a terrible netizen. If there were a scarlet letter for this, I would wear it in shame.

My husband and I have been up to doing what most couples (we assume) do: playing games, watching movies and DVDs, and having sex. We caught up completely on True Blood. For JJ, it was an introduction to the material so that we can watch season three together when HBO begins to air them on the 13th of June. For me, it was all a recap, but it was a pleasant re-visit to Bon Temps indeed. Today, we played Mortal Combat VS DC Universe, in which, I am pleased to report, I happened to be able to school my husband. (As I told him, he should be proud. Most gamers don't have girlfriends who can kick their asses, let alone wives) Even as we speak, my husband is perusing the web for finishing moves and cheats so that, next time, he can come out the victor. And the sex, well, that sort of speaks for itself, right?

I am, sadly, still shirking my duties when it comes to writing my philosophy paper. In my defense, I know what I want to say. I have some sources about what I want to say. I just need to sit down and put it together, logic it out. I'm looking forward to putting that together this weekend, actually. My desk is mostly cleared for me to do it. I'll make a pot of coffee and sit at the lovely laptop. If only I hadn't quit smoking, my image as a neurotic writer could be cemented for you.

On the positive side of things, I bought some scar gel to try to diminish the horrible scar on my hand from the accident. Happily, I can report that the color does seem to be changing. The downside, however, is that it itches like mad about a half an hour after I put the stuff on. Also, I'm supposed to apply it 3-4 times a day for up to six months. Yikes! I think it's the itching and the frequency that are causing me to subconsciously forget to put the stuff on like I'm supposed to. Needless to say, it's something to add to the list of things that I need to work on--as if that needed to get any longer.

In other news, after all the ridiculous reconnection crap with AW, he's not sure we should be friends now. It's funny how people can sort of flake out on you sometimes. Honestly, I'm still thinking about the whole thing, but it might be best if we just don't speak. I'm still pretty bitter and angry. And, frankly, I don't think it's too much to ask to have friends who are willing to stick by me during the tough stuff, even if that means that I make them mad or they make me mad. It's not unfair of me to not want to befriend someone who dropped me quicker than Oprah drops her diets. Plus, I keep wondering what would really come of it anyways. It's certainly an impasse. Part of me thinks people warrant second chances, and another part of me is kind of over it.

On the brighter side, things with JJ are going swimmingly. I feel like we've been more connected lately. Our relationship is stronger than ever, which pleases me. It seemed like we'd hit a bit of a rough patch there during our last semester. We spent a lot of time fighting and irritated with each other because of the stress. Now that we've had time to relax, it's gotten much better. I can see now why people take vacations. We just needed some time to be a couple--and the sex hasn't hurt much either. I feel like we're much more in sync. It's been really wonderful just being together. I don't know if we've gotten to be a better couple or we're just more secure in our marriage or what, but I'm grateful for whatever it is.

For now, I'm headed to bed. I have a bar-b-que for a friend who's leaving town tomorrow. I spent tonight baking cookies to bring with me. I'm pleased to report that the house smells delightful, the cookies look great, and the kitchen is quite clean. I even had time between batches to start watching Drag Me To Hell, lose my patience with it, and choose another movie. At least one of my evenings lately has been productive!