Home?

If the adage, "home is where the heart is," is true, I'm a long way from home. And probably a bit scattered. Some of my heart is up with my mom and dad, some is in Bburg with my brother, some is in Boston with my friends from college, some is in Kville with my friends there, and a big huge piece of my heart is back with M. I've officially moved 175 miles away, as of this morning. Yeah that doesn't sound so horrible, but here I sit, my life changing dramatically, and no one who loves me within check-in distance. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited. I don't know how to answer that question. I know the answer they're looking for is a simple and exuberant "yes!" but I can't bring myself to do that without tearing up. Here's what I feel:

I'm anxious. I'm starting a real job tomorrow that isn't going to pay me enough to live. I'm far from my family and friends. I know no one in this town. I'm not sure I live in the safest place ever. I have no idea how I'm going to take care of my health here. Not to mention that I do anxiety pretty darn well.

I'm sad. I left my handsome, fun, funny, sweet, charming M more than two hours away. In a different timezone. I know people do this all the time. I've done distance before myself. It doesn't mean I can't be sad about it.

I'm lonely. I've never been a very good play-by-yourself person. I like to be around other people. I don't know how I'm going to meet people. I have some connections through friends back in Kville, we'll see how that goes.

And I am excited, a little. About the potential of what this job could bring. Because they're so excited to have me working with them. I'm in a big city again, with lots to do and see.

I just wish some things were different. Namely I wish my innately anxious self would just chill out so I could enjoy this new step. (Anyone have some Xanax I could borrow?) I also wish that more people could just listen when I say these things. I'd give voice to them more often if I knew I wasn't going to be met with the same five statements of encouragement every time. I know every single person means well, I don't mean to be ungrateful for the support. It's just frustrating. Then again, maybe giving voice to my myriad of feelings isn't the solution. Maybe I need to swallow those anxious feelings and fake it til I make it. I think there is a lot of validity in that process as well. It worked in College, it worked in Kville, maybe it'll work here too.

I honestly never thought I'd drive away from Kville crying. After a year and a half there, I figured I'd be ripping off the rear view mirror and flipping the town the bird as I burned rubber off into the distance. Then, something changed over the last year. Kville became my home. I have an incredible community there. It was so hard to leave it behind. I type all this melodrama knowing full well that I'll be going back there a week from Friday. If I listen to that other old adage, "home is where you hang your hat" then Kville isn't my home. But so much of my heart is there. So much more of my heart than I ever imagined.

This post seems disjointed and poorly written as I read over it. It makes sense because that's how I feel. Disjointed. Out of place. Uncomfortable. Tomorrow I start work, and maybe things will be a little better. And maybe I'll just spend the next two weeks counting down to going back to Kville. It's okay, I knew I would feel that way at first. New places are hard. I need to work on repeating, "I'll make this better," instead of, "it's only a year and then I can move." Then again, the second was my motto when I first moved to TN and that turned out alright too.

Spoiled Girl - Part II (Atlanta to Fairhope)

Part II of the trip morphed from my birthday to being in town to help M's mom celebrate her birthday. She's so kind to me, and loves to see her son, obviously. I was excited to spend part of the weekend visiting with her, too!

Sunday 9am: We wake up, drag ourselves out of bed and pack up. The valets bring the car around (doesn't that make us sound rich?) and we're on our way. We've decided to take a meandering trail down to M's mom in Fairhope, Al. so we need to start early!

Sunday morning: Our route takes us through Eufaula and Dothan, Al., straight down to I-10, which we follow over until we are just north of Destin, Fl.

Sunday 1:30(ish)pm: I have never been to Destin, and after sharing this fact, M decides that's where we're having lunch. We're looking for a waterfront hole-in-the-wall and find the Boatdock Oyster House - perfect! Half dozen raw & a fish sandwich for M, Oyster po-boy for me (yum!) and we're back on the road.

Sunday afternoon: Our next goal is the world famous Florabama Lounge and Package Store. We drive through Pensacola, Fl., which takes us by this gem of a billboard:

We make it just in time to have a can of corona (I know they're selling these in stores now, but this was the first place I'd seen them) and dip our toes in the ocean.

Sunday 7pm: After 11 hours in the car, we're finally headed for our final destination for the day; beautiful Fairhope, Alabama. When we get there M makes us all an incredible steak dinner. I fall asleep on the couch watching family guy. It's been a long day, and we've got plans for tomorrow!

Monday 8am: We wake up and have a big cup of coffee on the porch and make a plan to go explore downtown. M's not feeling too well, and he's so sore he can't walk fast enough to keep up with me (nor can I make myself walk slow enough to keep down with him). We make due, and see the Fairhope library, as well as several shops in the artistic, eclectic downtown area.

Monday 1pm: M's mom has driven into Mobile, so we meet her there (a whopping 20 minutes away) for lunch at a local wing restaurant. No one gets wings, but it's delicious nonetheless.

Monday 3pm: On the way into Mobile, M saw the U.S.S. Alabama and arrows to the National Battleship Park, and suddenly we had afternoon plans. I know a lot of girls who would hate this plan for the afternoon, but climbing all over a big spooky WWII battleship sounds awesome to me! So after a quick drive down government street in Mobile, oohing and ahhing over the gorgeous southern homes, this is where we end up:

Pretty sure there are ghosts in the infirmary. Creepy:

Monday 6:30pm: We call M's mom on our way back and have her meet us at the Fairhope Pier to watch the sun go down over Mobile bay. M's looking like he feels worse and worse as the day goes on, but he seems to enjoy the peace of watching the sunset.

Monday 8pm: After a simple and elegant dinner at home (steak and rosemary potatoes), M completely tanks. Running a fever, totally out of it--he's not okay. A couple of Tylenol, an antibiotic, and a cup of tea later & M was passed out in bed.

Tuesday 8am: It's an early morning after a long night. M's fever spiked again in the night, but between the two of us (and Tylenol, thank God for Tylenol) we got it to break. He's feeling much better this morning, which is good because we have an 8 hour drive ahead of us.

Tuesday Morning: We shop a little with M's mom (I got a great trench coat for $25- original $130!) have a shrimp lunch and hit the road by our goal time of 1pm. An amazing feat, trust me.

Tuesday 9:30pm: We're rolling back into town, totally worn out, but happy with our adventure. We've spent 5 days with little or no time away from each other and not killed one another. This is a good sign for our relationship, methinks.

All in all, it was great (minus the whole M-knocking-on-death's-door thing). I'm really enjoying telling people all about our wonderful trip, emphasis on my M's superhuman effort to give me an incredible birthday present.

Spoiled Girl - Part I (Atlanta)

Here's a recap of my crazy, 1,300-mile, spoiled-girl, weekend. We got back Tuesday. But like everything else in my life, I've been procrastinating. Better late than never? (Maybe that should be the title of my blog. Sidebar: It is very very very conflicting to be both a type-A, high anxiety person, and a professional-level procrastinator.)

Friday morning, 8am: Get up to run errands: Bank & Walmart. Thank God for Superstores or my errands would have taken four times as long.

Friday morning(ish), 11am: M picks me up & we run his errands.

Friday 12:30pm: We hit the road headed for the Westin, downtown Atlanta! My babe treats me right.

Friday 5(ish)pm: We arrive at hotel, check into our room on the 44th floor and take in the breathtaking view. From the window we can see our next stop, the Georgia Aquarium!

Friday Evening: I am beyond excited about this trip to the aquarium. Shark week is possibly my favorite week of the year. I was promised Whale Sharks and I can't WAIT to see them. They have four in a huge 'ocean' tank. Here's an incredible picture I took while we were there:

And another of us being silly:

After the aquarium we wander around centennial park for a little bit & check out what was going on at the Coke Museum - a Darius Rucker Concert! M learned the song "Alright" and has been singing it for me in a few of his shows lately. When it starts playing outside of the museum he said, "Ok, now we have to stay and listen!"

By this point we are starving. Dinner was Mexican, a favorite of ours, and right next to the hotel! Then we went back and change quickly. We walk a million miles to find some live music and were accosted by a few homeless people along the way (I got conned--well technically, I got M conned--out of 3 bucks. I've been out of the city way too long!). We hang out at a cool place in midtown called Publik and then head back to the room. We have another long day ahead of us!

(Check out how I got to end my night. Am I a lucky girl or what?)

Saturday 8:30am: Hit snooze.

Saturday 9:30am: Get up & shower. We have things to do!

Saturday Morning: I'm wondering where my coffee is, M needs some supplies (shorts, a mouth guard, socks) before his big rugby game! We take a quick driving tour of his Alma Mater, Emory & head over to his fraternity house. (Personally I was a good ole GDI in college.) The place is clean and the boys are nice, M's friend shows up & we're off to the intramural fields!

Saturday 2:30pm: The game starts just in time for a major downpour. I've seen a couple of games before, but I've never seen M play. It's hard to watch him get hit, mostly because I know: 1. He doesn't have health insurance, 2. He's going to hurt for a week afterwards, and 3. I have to pee so bad that once it starts raining ridiculously hard I'm debating how (in)conspicuous it would be if i just peed my pants and then let the rain do the cover-up work.

(that's M on the ground...)

Saturday 4:30pm: I tell M we have to go somewhere I can pee RIGHT NOW, or I'm going to die. I am not exaggerating. On the way out of the parking lot I see bathrooms. Not port-a-potties that I was desperately searching the sidelines for, but actual, concrete bathrooms. My exact words were, "Son of a bitch! Pull over, I can't wait."

Saturday Evening: The pain's starting to set in for M, the hunger's starting to set in for me. We hang out at the after party for a little while, and then, deciding we are too old for all this hoopla, get some gyros (which I hoover) & go back to the room to lay down. Our weekend is not over. We have another early morning ahead of us. (See Part II)