Why, yes! I’d love some cheese with this whine. January 31, 2008Posted by Sparkel in friends, meee.
Anna is leaving again. She got an amazing job offer from a huge company where she’s going to make more than twice what we’re making here.
She’s also only planning to stay for a year because she wants to go to grad school. She’s applying to NYU today, and when I asked her if the amount of money NYU costs is a problem for her parents she shrugged and said “no, I don’t think so.”
I am happy for her. Unbelievably proud and happy and ready to do cartwheels. And yet, part of me is incredibly sad to see her go and… I’ll admit it… a little jealous. Well, envious rather. I’ve been told that the difference between jealousy and envy is that if you’re jealous you don’t want the other person to have whatever it is you’re jealous of. If you’re envious, you are happy that they have it, you just wish you had it too. I am happy for her. She finished school, she’s worked hard; she deserves it.
I still have a ways to go before I’m finished with school. I’m dreading finding a “real job” because I frankly don’t really 100% know what I’d like to do that doesn’t involve moving to New York or LA. And even when I do get a job, we English majors aren’t known for our salaries. Actually, nevermind, we kind of are. And MADE FUN OF FOR THEM.
So, I’m stuck answering phones and doing data entry for another year and a half (at least.) It’s depressing. And I kind of hate it. So when she told me (and I was the first one she told) I was less than happy. I smiled and congratulated her, and gave her a big hug. But I could tell that she could tell I wasn’t thrilled.
Feeling petty and girly and ashamed on the drive home from work last night, I decided to make it up to her. I got her a card that sings “Celebration” (and was sooooo tempted to get the card that sang “Whoop There It Is.” I think I drove all of Hallmark insane because I kept opening it and cracking up), a humongous balloon that says “Congratulations” with some plain balloons, champagne, reeses pbc’s and made her cupcakes and a small heart cake when I got home. I also wrote a letter explaining my reaction, and told her that I wish her the best, hope we still see each other tons, and am super happy for her and proud of her. I called to ask if I could bring it all to her, and she decided to stop by my house instead, where she laughed and smiled and cried a little and said that she understood my reaction.
And then she said “I can’t wait until you graduate and you’re writing and editing and making ooogobs of money. We’ll travel and shop and have the BEST lives.”
I don’t deserve a friend like her. But I will take her anyway. And miss her and still meet up for drinks and lunch.
And maybe not decline when she offers to pay.
After all, she is a great(er) success now.
Cliques January 30, 2008Posted by Sparkel in friends.
I was gushing about my besties the other day with M, and said that one randomly great thing about many of my friends is that we can swap clothes because most of my friends wear the same size I do. I said “you know what’s weird? Of the “group” of girls (there are five of us) we all wear the same size jeans, shirts, dresses and shoes. Huh…”
M’s reply? “That’s because you’re all basically the same.”
I immediately got defensive (“um, I have my own opinions and personality, thank you very much”) and he said “you all not only wear the same size, but the same type of clothes. You all read the same books, watch the same movies, like the same things, and spend a large amount of time praising the crap out of each other. Three of you are English majors. You’re even the same race. I’m not saying you’re interchangeable. You are special, just like I’m sure each of them are special. You’re just a clique.”
I shuddered at that word. Aren’t cliques stereotypically bad? Don’t cliques mainly exist in high school? And really, is it bad, or even surprising, to have a group of friends with whom you share common interests and opinions and clothes every now and then? Isn’t it sort of expected that you will have a lot in common with your friends? They are, after all, you’re friends- the people you choose to spend time with.
After thinking about it, I realized he’s right. Cliques exist everywhere, from elementary school to the little old ladies who play cards together. We seem to naturally search for people who remind us of ourselves to some extent. How many bonds are forged over “OMGGG I know EXACTLY what you mean!!”? Even in blog-land there are BFF’s and groups who comment on each other every day and proclaim love and understanding.
At the end of the day, knowing you have someone to lean on, someone who understands and has maybe even been there can be the most comforting thing in the world. And when you can’t afford to shop, what girl doesn’t enjoy raiding her friends closet? Or hearing “oooh, I have a shirt that would look so good on you, here try it on!”
So maybe cliques aren’t such a bad thing. I happen to think that all of my friends have unique experiences and problems and opinions. I find solace in our similarities, and learn from our differences.
Clique or no-clique, I really wouldn’t have my friends any other way.
You know you love me… January 29, 2008Posted by Sparkel in meee, realizations.
add a comment
Despite my celebration, I lost another pound today. Without exercising (yet.) Kinda freaky. I think it might have something to do with drinking a liter and a half of water all in one sitting (partially to get it over with, but mostly cause Anna said I couldn’t do it.) I have literally almost peed my pants 6 times since. (Which I’m sure you were just DYING to know.)
I’m heading to the gym in a little while, and even though I really should be reading I decided to post again. Oh blog, I cannot resist you.
Lately I’m really into Gossip Girl. To the point of utter ridiculousness I have phases with shows where I become obsessed and watch nothing but episodes of _____ over and over for weeks. I bought more than a few episodes on itunes and have been watching them while I get ready for work, when I get home from work, while I’m supposed to be reading, before falling asleep, etc. It probably wasn’t the greatest idea to put them on my laptop because now they can follow me anywhere.
Anyway, because Gossip Girl is based on a blog which is based on the “scandalous lives of Manhattan’s elite,” and I also have a blog, I have been wondering what it would be like to have a life that is so interesting that not only do you want to make a page where you spill your innermost thoughts and feelings and all the glorious and boring details of your life, but someone else actually wants to write about you. And others want to read it. I know there are popular blogs out there, and the whole obsession with celebrity and all that. And yes, I do realize that Gossip Girl is just a show. But to be honest, it’s made me realize how little I have to write about on here. My life is BORING.
If I had a Gossip Girl obsessed with me, her entry would probably go something like this:
Hey guys, Gossip Girl here! Rumor has it that K got a new book today. She knows she has to work, hit the gym and study later. And lets not forget that M needs his dinner, and who else will make it for him but K? When will she find the time to work in those chapters? And make it to bed before midnight because she has an early day tomorrow?
You know who will be
xo xo, Gossip Girl
My sister told me that I live like I’m 80. I do have fun, and I do take pride that my life is pretty low-key. I wouldn’t wish for drama and frenemies and M to be back-and-forth. I am content for the most part.
I know the grass is always greener and all that…But I have to admit, I do wish there was a little more excitement in my life than losing 5 pounds.
Celebration January 29, 2008Posted by Sparkel in The Diet.
How do I decide to celebrate my weight loss?
…I don’t think I truly comprehend the whole “diet” thing.
Four pounds! January 29, 2008Posted by Sparkel in The Diet.
I lost 4 pounds!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wahoo! Now only 19 more to go!!
…fuuuck that’s a big number…I miss french fries! And cookies. And ice cream. And pasta. Oh no, I forgot about the pasta…
Okay…back to proud. 4 pounds!! Yeehaw!
Perfection January 28, 2008Posted by Sparkel in meee, survey.
taken from Michelle :DPerfection
The perfect outfit: spring/summer: sundress with sandals; fall/winter: dress with a sweater and comfy boots
The perfect meal: I’m easy: spaghetti with a little cheese and garlic bread
The perfect hangover cure: water and a banana before going to sleep
The perfect road trip: Anywhere in Arizona
The perfect facial feature: clear, smooth skin
The perfect drink: strawberry lemonady with a splash of rum
The perfect song: “Sweet Avenue” by Damien Rice
The perfect sign of affection: A kiss on the forehead.
The perfect afternoon: near water with a friend, a good book, and nowhere to be
The perfect vacation: Europe for a year
The perfect invention: television
The perfect type of wedding: small and intimate in the spring
The perfect album: Deja Entendu by Brand New
The perfect accent: Australian
The perfect date: Full of spontanaeity and passion
The perfect weather: Sunny and warm
The perfect party: random, casual, full of people who are interested and interesting and rum
The perfect sport: Gymnastics
The perfect thing to say: “I love you.”
The perfect day of the week: Saturday
Thank you… January 22, 2008Posted by Sparkel in family, friends.
for listening. I know my life is not the most exciting thing to hear about, but you never fail to lend an ear or a shoulder, and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it, even if I don’t tell you that often enough.
for being my new roommate! I know you’re going through a rough time right now, but I just want to let you know how happy I am to have you as part of my home again.
for understanding. I know we don’t get to see each other as much as we’d probably like, and that at times it can seem like we’re drifting apart. But you have to know that you’re my best friend in the world, now and always. I love you.
for attempting to change. I’m not 100% willing to let go and trust you again, but I do notice the effort you’re making, and I appreciate it.
for proving my theory that some people never change. It kinda sucks that I got hurt again, but I’m thanking you because you’re making me stronger than you’ll ever know.
for trying to give me a romantic night, the random slow dance break from cleaning, sitting at Starbucks with me even though you loathe Starbucks, for covering me for the rent when I had issues, and for the million other sweet things you do for me every single day that I never thank you for. You are my heart, my conscience and my biggest smile, and I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. Thank you for loving me at my most unlovable. I promise to try harder to do the same.
…you know who you are.
The story of us January 21, 2008Posted by Sparkel in M.
There’s nothing really new going on that’s worth posting about, except that M’s and my four year anniversary is right around the corner (squee!) I’ve been reminiscing about the beginning of our relationship a lot lately, so today I will write about how we met and how I knew I loved him.
WARNING, large amounts of cheese ahead…
Before M and I got together, I dated a few guys and had unrequited experiences with a few more. The relationships were emotionally unsatisfying or the guys were just jerks or my feelings were never reciprocated, which left me concluding (as many overly-dramatic 18-year-olds do) that maybe I just wasn’t going to find HIM. At least not for a while, and not with the “I want a boooyyyyfrieeeennndddd” mentality I had for a few years. So, I decided to wash my hands of finding a love and thought “if I meet a cute guy who I can hook up with, great, otherwise I am focusing on my girls.”
Naturally, this is when I met M.
Actually, we first met while I was with one of the not-so-great guys. He was a friend of a friend, and we met at a club one night. We danced, sparks flew, my imagination ran wild, and then we didn’t see each other for a good four months. When we met again, I knew I wanted him to be my “hook up.” We were both quiet (him much more than me) which led me to assume that he didn’t even like me as a person, mostly because my friend went on and on about how flirty he was with everyone. I tried to ask him questions, he responded with one word or a nod. We went to a party he invited us to, and I got drunk and confessed to my friend that I wanted to kiss him. She shrieked and insisted on getting us together. I insisted that I only wanted a casual fuck buddy relationship, and she said she was sure that wouldn’t be a problem.
She told him I was interested and (shockingly) he was excited and said he was interested too. That he thought I was “really hot” and “so sweet” and wanted to hang out ASAP. We hung out a couple more times with friends before he quietly asked me out. I walked him to his car that night, and he gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek. We went to the movies the next day. Held hands, grinned nervously the entire night. I kissed him when he dropped me off, and he was SHOCKED, which led me to think that maybe he thought it was just a friend thing. He called the next day to insist that he was interested, and we went out again and he more than made up for the first kiss.
We never had a talk where we defined what we were. We saw each other more than a few times a week from that point on. We called each other and talked for hours when we couldn’t see each other. He was so nice and different from the other guys I’d liked. He was shy and sweet and such a gentleman. Opening doors, letting me walk ahead of him while putting his hand on the small of my back, insisting on paying for everything, sending me flowers, buying me candy.
It was much more than I thought I was looking for. We were together like that for about a month when my friend asked what we were. I said I didn’t know, but that I really cared about him. “But do you looove him?” she jokingly asked. I smiled and imagined his face, and replayed some sweet things he’d done, and thought of how no one has ever looked at me the way he did, that no one laughed at even the stupid things I said like he did, that no one ever made me feel giddy and excited just by thinking about them, and realized “oh my god…I think I do.”
My friend: “WHAT?? Dude, I was kidding! It’s been like a month. And you said you just wanted a hookup!”
But I knew, right then.
M’s version is sweeter. And kind of makes me feel guilty. He told me not too long ago, “I don’t believe in love at first sight, but what I felt when I first saw you is as close as I think anyone gets to it.” He liked me from the very first night. The mutual friend who introduced us had a thing for him, which he knew, so he strategized a way to ask her about me without making his feelings obvious. He had lunch with her the day after we met, and she told him I said he had pretty eyes. (“That was the one piece of hope I had to go on.”) He met up with her over the next two months a few times a week (they shared a class) and always made sure to work me into the conversation. He asked “subtle” (my friend “whatever! Completely transparent 😀 ) questions about me, my interests, what I was up to. She told him I was dating someone and contemplating sleeping with him, and questioning whether I loved him. (Unfortunately, this is true.) He was disappointed, and decided to wait and see if we broke up. He’d ask about my relationship, and when it didn’t seem like we would break up, he decided to “put it behind him” and move on.
Thankfully, I broke up with the guy about two weeks later.
When M heard we were done, he asked my friend if she’d come to a club and bring me along. He wasn’t as shy that night. He smiled at me a lot, opened my door, asked me to dance a lot. I remember there was this really cute guy standing near us, and he was looking at me. I smiled at him and he started to walk over when I felt M take my hand and he asked me to dance. (M: I saw that guy and thought “hell no guy. I had to wait long enough!”)
He claims he was so surprised when I kissed him because he was still in disbelief that I agreed to go out with him and assumed I thought it was a friend thing. My friend says she knew he had some serious feelings when she told him I was interested, but only wanted something casual and he seemed disappointed. (“I swear K, I told him you just want to hook up and he sounded SO SAD and said “oh…do you think she might want to be something serious at some point though?” I mean WHAT THE HELL??”)
I heard his version of how we met after we’d already said our “I love you”s, and while I believed him when he said it, I don’t think I REALLY believed it until I heard his story.
So that is how we became us.
Baby steps. January 17, 2008Posted by Sparkel in meee.
I took my first pregnancy test last night.
Honestly, I avoided it like the plague. I was three weeks late, and thought “well, that’s not THAT unusual. And you did go to El Salvador and live with a handful of women for two weeks. And you are dieting and exercising.”
The test made it so real. And scary.
And then it came back negative and I got my period this morning.
I’m relieved and happy that I’m not pregnant. But truthfully? After feeling like this for as long as I can remember, the thought of having a baby in the past couple weeks was somewhat exciting. M and I talked about baby names in El Salvador (which, um, good going stupids, way to jinx yourselves) and playing with Sofia and then seeing my goddaughter recently made me all “aw” and “cute!” and then even “maybe I could do this…”
Mauricio’s mom asked me what I would name our kids. She said “I want more grandchildren! When are you getting married?” Her sisters nodded and smiled in agreement.
On Christmas Eve M and I went to my parents to exchange gifts, and I wanted to make a toast to my grandmother, as that was our first Christmas without her, while my siblings and everyone was still there. I gathered everyone and instead of “I want to make a toast” I said “I want to make an announcement,” causing my mom to look a little shocked and say “you’re not…” Recognizing what I had implied, I immediately said “oh god, no!”
My parents? Laughed.
My sister? “You guys would have a cute baby!”
And suddenly I realized that I’m nearing the age where it would be okay. It wouldn’t be a scandal. People might even be happy about it instead of immediately “what are you going to do??”
We’re not ready. Not now. Not for a while. But part of me wasn’t completely full of angst and dread when it seemed like it could be happening.
And that seems like my first baby steps in the mommy direction.
Things I Will Never Like January 16, 2008Posted by Sparkel in annoyances.
Going to bed hungry.
The color orange.
Being told what to do.
Rough patches on the bottom of my feet.
Really late night TV (after 2 am).
Crumbs on a kitchen floor.
The gym being crowded.
People who talk loudly in the morning.
What about you?