Disaster Zone.

I don't understand how good things can feel so far away right now. It's the last day of work week (officially, but don't worry, I'll still be here on Friday...) and all the joy and good will I felt on Saturday night has officially evaporated. This is a more stressful beginning to the year than last year and no one is giving me clear or defined answers to anything. Our room is relatively well put together, but I am tired. LM and I worked extremely hard on it and it does honestly look really good. I just want the rest of my things to come and let me file everything away so that I can work on it all and be done.

But, the major problem is CA. He's been away on business all week, understandable. But, his grandmother is now extremely ill (kidneys failing) and so he's flying back from South Dakota right now and will be flying out to Mississippi tomorrow morning. The last several weeks have felt like one disaster after another and despite my best efforts to be supportive and understanding, I am sorely failing.

I just can't deal with being at work right now.

Awkward Turtle

There's much to say, but right now, I am thinking about fitting and not fitting in and when that happens. I had much the awkward weekend. Even with people with whom I usually fit in (I know, sentence fragment.)

On Friday, I saw a very old friend and although it was wonderful to see her and re-connect with some people I hadn't seen in a while, overall, I was confused about what my role in the evening was. I felt like I slipped back into my role as a college student--the non-drinker, the quiet wallflower. After being in grad school and having people like EC and TM bring me out of my shell (or remind me that I didn't need a shell), and having debates more consistently with the likes of S and dating CA which always means a good time and means me being my actual self. I felt like I was regressing in some way, just because I was with some people who make me uncomfortable.

On Sunday, I went to a wedding. At points in time, it is awkward because CA and I are the only unmarried ones. It's not awkward in the sense of "oh god when am I going to get a ring" but it is awkward when people introduce me as his wife. This is probably a self-imposed awkwardness, or just a continued recognition of our age difference (which is only prevalent in this issue that all of his friends are married). Either way, I felt very much like the odd person out.

I think the thing is that I have recognized that I am pretty alright with being a hobbit. I spend the majority of my time with CA, and a smattering of other people. I really am alright with that. I can't tell if my awkwardness around other people is because I don't get "out" much or if I really have gotten good at identifying how I want to spend my time...

What Kind of a Theme?

This is the wedding cake that I love. Because I think getting married in the fall would be a lovely idea, I think this cake would be amazing. Of course, there will be no damn birds on the cake. Stupid birds. (No bulldogs either.)

This morning, however, I stumbled upon THIS wedding cake. I believe that THIS is the cake that CA would love to have. I think it takes the theme to a whole other, slightly more violent and less sharing-in-permanent-love-for-the-rest-of-your-life theme.

Vampires? CAMP-pires.

This will be my last post today, I promise.

But, lately, I have been involved in reading a Young Adult series called Twilight by Stephenie Meyer (all up with the Es apparently). They're delicious, and ridiculous and remind me of what it was like to be seventeen and in love. Sometimes, if they tell each other that they love each other more than anyone has ever loved anyone one more time, I think I'm going to kill myself. But then, I remember my high school boyfriend and how no one was ever going to love anyone as much as I loved him. Then, I understand.

However, I think teenage girls are oblivious to this fact.

So, anyway, basically, they're overbown fan fiction. They're about ships and they're about conflict. They're thrilling, and completely non-realistic. I love them in the way that I love my "Scottish porn"; they have nothing to do with "serious" literature. They're just hilarious.

However, teenage girls take themselves too seriously.

The fourth book came out and it was ridiculous. There was werewolf imprinting on a half-vampire, half-human Edward-Bella baby, there were vampires from all over the world, there were mind readers, there was a 19-year old wedding (pre-baby), there was bizarre sickness and strange absences and did I mention werewolves? There was a vampire mafia and this vampire-hybrid. There's a throw-down at the end. And let's face it, it was delicious. However, apparently, teenage girls were outraged. They didn't like how drama-filled it was.

Apparently, they liked it better when Bella was heartbroken over a vampire and was simultaneously pining after a werewolf. Because that makes goddamn sense.

So, instead of accepting for what it is, crackfic that is delightful to read in its hilarity, and deliciousness, girls are outraged because they didn't stay true to character or something like that. I, personally, loved the fourth book more than all the other books. It was non-stop action, teenage drama and hilariousness. How could you not love a mutant baby that breaks Bella's ribs because it's so freaking strong? People have begun returning the book because they're so outraged.

People take themselves too seriously. It was silly over-blown fic in the first place (and I do intend to abbreviate fic there) and now people apparently want more than a vampire who can control the elements. Quit taking yourself so damn intensely people and enjoy the humor behind a paper cut that can wilt vampires. Sure, it was full of teh drama and teh angst and teh weird names. Sure, it was completely silly. And that's what I took it to always be.

There were great things about the book, like when she switches voices to write from Jacob's perspective and he's wonderfully sarcastic and we get a really excellent picture of him (if nothing else, she's amazing at character development). She has an excerpt of writing on her website written from Edward's perspective. She is very good at writing male characters. She has a really wide vocabulary range as well, providing good examples of interesting verbs and expressive adjectives.

Then, there's the silly love story, the over-protective vampire and the ridiculousness of getting married out of high school. I don't think it sets up a "good" example of getting married that early (get married and you'll grow a mutant baby!) but in the end, Bella's an extremely strong character (granted, we wait four books for it) and she is the one who ends up needing no saving. After being saved, over and over, she is the one doing the saving. I think people are neglecting to see certain things. Sure, mutant baby, vampire throwdown and insane super-powers are completely unrealistic.

The characters are engaging though and even more engaging in the fourth book. We sympathize with them. I think that is the important part--the part that people are missing. But, I seem to be the only one defending the deliciousness (and really, there's no other word for it) that is Breaking Dawn. I'm alright with that though. No, they're not necessarily for my sixth graders. No, there's "better" books out there, but sometimes, we all need a little romp.

A Conflict That's Not a Conflict

So, CA's grandmother(s) are not doing well. I can't determine which one he is closer to, but his feelings seem to be tied together more with his mother's mother, since he has such an affinity for his mother and she is extremely close to her mother. Either way, he spent last weekend down south to see his mother's mother (to henceforth be abbreviated as MM), and came back feeling really upset. He's been dealing with it all extremely well, but he is going down south again this weekend to see his father's mother (to henceforth be abbreviated as FM). After coming back from seeing MM, he wants me to fly down with him the last weekend in August to meet her. I figure that once that happens with FM, he will want me to fly down there too.

So, where's the conflict?

The problem is that I still haven't met his parents. At least whilst visiting his MM, I am pretty sure his parents will be there. It seems like such an awkward occurrence to meet someone in a hospital room. "Hi, I know your mother is lying on her deathbed, but I'm your son's girlfriend. Check it out." I'm worried about being too quiet, or too boisterous, or too something. I understand fully that after having dated CA for this long, it's really strange to not go to a funeral for a loved one. So, I presume it's better to meet his parents at a hospital than a funeral and the longer I don't meet them the weirder it's going to be.

It would be nice to have the proverbial "in-laws" again. I miss "other" families; I always enjoyed the other of he-who-is-no-longer-named. So, it would be nice to know his family. I did really enjoy meeting his sister, who is now married. I take it for granted that he has become a part of my family so easily and so quickly. I take it for granted that my parents love picking up "wayward" couples; they like being the "family."

So, the conflict is whether I should go. It's not really a conflict even so I guess I shouldn't even call it that. I know what I'm going to do--I'm going to go. There is a part of me that fears that he is worried that his family and I will not get along. His mother is basically me, though, so I can't understand that fear (so perhaps I am projecting.) I guess my conflict comes in whether or not I should be fearful of this encounter. Should I be worried about meeting them? Is this a tacky way to meet them? Or am I showing how much I love and support their son? I hope it's the latter.

Philosophy with a Capital P

I went to work yesterday. Granted, this is going to happen more and more often, but I went to work yesterday. The conflict with something like my job is so many people are incredibly intelligent people there that sometimes, I feel like discussions don't progress. We end up butting intellectual heads about whether we are teaching our students about Knowledge and one Truth or if it is more important that they are Humane. Or whether or not all three of these things are inter-connected. We debate what being humane means. We discuss the most accurate words for rubric-writing (when in actuality, I will have to make 25 copies of the same rubric for a 12 person class because everyone loses it at least once and only reads it when we go over it in class).

Sometimes, I just want to organize the books in my room and put some stuff up on the walls. Silly, I know, because these discussions on teaching Philosophy make me a better educator. But, sometimes, I really just want to play with the pens...

Bulldogs.

Moments of success come at the strangest times sometimes (awkward wording, but what do you want?) When I went to Ikea, I was not anticipating that the silly bulldog that I purchased would warrant anything above a goofy smile. However, it's become something more. I like watching him smile, or use William Howard Taft in everyday conversation. I know, goofy, but it's something small that I can't help but enjoy watching.

CA: You have to pretend like this is yours when people come over.
AXR: So you don't like him?
CA: No, that's the problem. He's great. But, you know, I'm fucking five.
AXR: I bought him.
CA: Right. I expect you to take full responsibility for my regression.

Hilarious. And better than having a stupid-ass real drooling bulldog.

Evolution.

So, I've been thinking about the time that I spend driving late at night. Last night, I went out for coffee with ANR, as I usually do on late Thursday evenings in the summer when I have nothing better to do but be in the suburbs with my parents. We meet at our favorite diner, a place we've been going for close to 10 years now (which seems absurd to say), and drink coffee until we're both jittery and have gone to the bathroom 45 times. Eventually, it's late and we have (for at least the next 33 hours) solved the problems of the universe.

I was driving home last night along the darkened road, all the lights remaining green since no one would be on any side streets at 130 in the morning, thinking about how peaceful the experience was and wondering how one can be nostalgic for something before it is over. Soon, ANR will move further North, making a drive from her home to the diner almost an hour. As it stands now, we only do our long evenings when I'm in from the city. She already lives with her boyfriend and sooner, rather than later, I'll be engaged and married. Once those things happen, it makes late night coffee harder and harder to come by (I believe.)

I drove home, remembering how much had already changed from the first summers that we would spend there. The diner had always been a popular place, since it's open 24 hours. The entire high school theater troupe would come there after shows, order pancakes and consume carbohydrates, coffee and cigarettes until we were all so jittery we couldn't move. We'd devour our food, talk for a while, and eventually people would begin to split off, to drive their dates home and quietly kiss in the car with the lights off for 20 minutes before the girl wandered inside. (Side note, I have discovered that making out in a car is foreign to city kids. It's mystifying how much of my sexuality was determined by foggy windows.) Nevertheless, ANR and my friendship deepened in that diner. We started to learn about each other, we started listening and we got over a fear that either one of us would ever run out of things to say.

I know that those conversations still happen. Just a few weeks ago, I sat in SR's apartment, vaguely wishing I would just pony up and sleep on the couch, talking to her until midnight. I kept saying I was leaving, but we'd continue. We talked for a long time about the nature of men and women's relationships, about sacrificing and about giving, which much of the time can be two different things. I have these conversation with KB often lately.

I know I am not in danger of losing my relationship with ANR. That's not at all what I mean; I just mean I wonder how much longer I will struggle into those parallel parking spaces which are too small. I wonder how much longer those lights will mean something as strong as they do now. I wonder how peaceful I will continue to feel on that brief drive home, knowing that there's some parent wanting me to be there.

When I finally stopped talking to my mom last night, I went upstairs and pulled a raggedy afghan over myself (remember the generic afghan from the Rosanne show? I never used to watch that show, but I remember the blanket. It looks like that. I got it from my grandma. Knowing her, it came from the home shopping network) and wondered how much longer I'd be doing that. How much longer would I be staying the night here, alone? Not much longer.

It's mainly because I've been having trouble being alone. I know that living alone was a pretty decent option for me, but, I have been spending so much time with him that I've not gotten used to being alone. I think once I have work and need my alone time (screaming children and long days), it'll all make much more sense. But for now, I don't like being alone.

I know, though, that the days for things like this are numbered. I'm reading a series of kiddie vampire books right now (quit laughing; I'll be there at midnight tonight to pick up the fourth one) and the main female character (a bit winy, a bit klutzy, but completely the definition of my seventeen year old self) wants to become one of the immortal. Her vampire boyfriend is skeptical of the situation and keeps telling her about all the things she might miss. He tells her that once she has become one of the immortal, she cannot go back. (And this is much to the tune of kissing and "I'll love you forever..." which I scoffed at and then remembered how my seventeen year old high school sweetheart signed his letters, "Always and Forever" or "A&F" [which looks strangely like the logo for Abercrombie and Fitch, although neither of us thought of that] and decided it wasn't quite so corny) In the same way, although I am not a vampire (not for perhaps the want of wanting to be...), I am thinking of the things that will change when my relationship escalates.

Bella, the main character, feels nostalgic for certain things, even if they're uncomfortable: like blushing or her heart quickening. I will get nostalgic for certain things too: like spending the weekend at my parents, even if it's not the most enjoyable thing all of the time. Things will change; I will not be making those midnight drives, I will be spending considerable more time asking someone to not use the couch as a clothing hamper. But, just as I am pretty sure that Bella's going to end up a vampire, because for her, blushing isn't nearly as great as an eternity with Edward (okay, I'm making these books sound henious. Which they probably are. But, shhh, I don't care.), I'm sure that the next phase of my life is going to be just as great.

Things will just have to evolve with me. I just can't believe it's changing.

I met with LSB, my old history teacher, and also with a long time friend from grade school this week, PF. It was wonderful to spend time with these people and realize that things do evolve. LSB knew me at my worst, when I was hiding under her desk sobbing unstably for most of the day over the rejection I nearly never got over (and perhaps still haven't, foolishly.) And now, she is excited to hear about my job, my relationship, my life. She had faith that things would evolve. And they do. I sat across from PF, whose heading off to a PhD program, thinking about the Halloween when I was a sexy spider queen and she was Rapunzel. We were so young, and now, we're doing so many other things. But, we've evolved together. I was nostalgic then for riding my bike with her. Now, it was delicious lunches at Tweet. We grow.

I just wonder what will replace the diner? And the coffee? Maybe, just maybe, it'll look the same, only better.