Monday, March 31, 2008

Another week, another brace

I'm out of my robot boot!

I've upgraded to this fancy new model:

Small, cute, rich in Velcro and impossible to put on without the aid of directions, this little guy is lovely and talented AND WILL ALLOW ME TO PLAY SOCCER.

Starting on Friday.


The DonJoy RocketSoc: how Aly got her groove back.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

MySpace and Marriage

The more I think about it, the more nauseous I feel.

I honestly thought that I was over him. Or at least really close.

Oh, how wrong I was.

You know that constant feeling of nervousness and dread? When you know something bad is going to happen? That's how I feel. All the time. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't get it out of my head.

If Colin or any of his cronies did this to fuck with me, they succeeded.

This is the ultimate mindfuck.

Reasons why this is probably fake

  • The teenagers who made his MySpace page know his password and probably changed his relationship status as a joke
  • The picture on his page was changed back to the horrific one that the teenagers posted when they first created his MySpace page
  • There was also some horrible song posted - The Final Countdown
  • I haven't see a single congratulatory/surprised/marriage-themed comment posted to his MySpace page
  • I don't actually think he knows how to work MySpace

Reason why this could not be fake

  • There's a new chick with a private profile as his #1 friend
  • I haven't seen his car at his house in, like, a month. He probably shacked up with this girl and they're trying to have a baby and if we ran into each other at the grocery store tomorrow he wouldn't recognize me because that is how little I meant to him.
  • He's a fucking idiot

I'm really not okay with this.

I can't bring myself to cry.

I think I'd feel better if I did.

Friday, March 28, 2008

I hate to get too excited about these things

Early this week, I returned a phone call I got about an opening at a company that I had previously applied at.

I was returning a call that I had gotten an entire week earlier (for whatever reason, I hadn't checked my voicemail). I figured that I was pretty much screwed, but decided to give it a try anyway. I left a message with the recruiter. Didn't hear from her until late on Thursday afternoon.

We finally connected this afternoon, when I slithered out of work for "lunch."

Sounds like an interesting job. I would be working directly for the family that owns the company that I applied at, which happens to be one of the most influential families in the area. I'd have to sign a confidentiality agreement upon accepting employment. Very Devil Wears Prada, dontcha think?

The actual position sounds extremely manageable. Can't help but worry about the personalities/egos I could encounter. Blame that on Hollywood, I guess.

I don't know if making a job change would be the best thing for me to do at this point, with only a year left in graduate school, but it is something to think about it. For the right amount of money, with enough flexibility that I could take my evening classes, it could be worth it.

It is definitely worth my daydreams.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Um. What?

Here's what isn't funny: the relationship status on Colin's MySpace going from single to MARRIED.

Fairly certain that it is a joke. Want to vomit anyway.

26-year-old girl from Michigan (with a stupid private profile and a picture of someone other than herself) was moved into his #1 friend. That part makes me nervous.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

In search of: a bit of advice

I've mentioned that Anna is driving me crazy. What I haven't mentioned is that I'm worried about her.

The back story is long and confusing. I will do my best to simplify.
  • Anna graduated from nursing school last April. After spending her summer backpacking in Europe, she started working in September.
  • Anna's mom is my Aunt Marie, who is diabetic and is currently in the hospital; her sister is my cousin Emma, who has long been plagued by severe behavioral problems
  • Anna has had the same boyfriend for about a year. He moved to New York late last summer. She's been to NYC to see him at least twice since I moved in (January) and he has been here once.
  • Anna works afternoons. She works 3-11, five days a week.
Anna is, to be very blunt, a mess.
  • She is forever making statements of hopelessness, saying things like "every day is worse."
  • I can't remember the last time that I was in the apartment with her when she hadn't cried, at least once.
  • She is obsessing with how awful and horrible and unbearable her job is. Sometimes it seems that she spends the entire morning leading up to her workday focusing on the one bad thing that happened at work the night before and telling herself that the night will be 100 times worse.
I feel like Anna is displacing every stress in her life and tacking it onto her job. She thinks that she sad about her job (which I do understand is very hard, especially for a nurse in her first year) but it isn't just that. It can't be just that. It is the boyfriend in New York, the sick mom, the crazy sister...she doesn't have an easy life.

But she is making it so much harder.

She is so negative. She is so angry and crabby and miserable to be around.

She spends so much on the phone with her boyfriend, bitching to him, that I cannot believe that he hasn't dumped her because of it. When he told her to stop dwelling on her Complaint of the Day a few weeks ago? She hung up on him and turned off her phone. As though it is his job to let her dump and dump and dump her litany of problems on him.

What she needs is therapy. She needs someone to spew her negativity to. She needs someone to help her figure out what she needs to do - whether it is get a new job, start on anti-depressants, or move to New York - to be happy. Because she isn't happy. And it isn't doing herself, or anyone else, any good.

How do I tell her that?

How do I convince her?

Anna is a fun, vibrant girl. She is a good nurse. She is always laughing. She is social, silly and creative. She has a wild side. She has a soft side.

She is a shell of the person I've known for 22 years.

I know that I can't force anything...but I need a plan of action.

When do I talk to her? (Do I wait until she's crying? Until she inevitably is complaining to me? For a time she is in a good mood?)

What do I say? (Do I tell her how miserable she is to be around? Is it appropriate for me to acknowledge that she has it hard? Or do I paint it as her blowing everything out of proportion? Maybe I should sell it as something that she should do for her boyfriend.)

How do I do this? Tell me, people. From A to Z. Help me help Anna.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008


I check my school email when I get into work most mornings. Today was not an exception.

There was an email from the professor of my Wednesday night class, indicating that he had posted our scores from last week’s exam. Nervously, I venture over to Blackboard. I consider not checking. I remind myself that I had a 90% on the last exam, which would help to balance out a low B or a C.

As I click over to the grades, I am suffering from that awful stomach-churning nervousness that is forever plaguing me. I have one eye open, just a slit, as I find the courage to see my score.

Both eyes pop open when I see my score.


I look and look and look again. I blink.

I am dumbfounded.

And, apparently, smarter than I realized.

Monday, March 24, 2008


The elephant that has been in this room - and the reason that maybe this blog isn't as blogolicious as it typically is - is my Aunt Marie.

She has been in the hospital for the past two weeks. It is worrisome and it is draining.

I haven't seen her, to be honest. But I have been plenty involved. I have entertained Emma. I've done my best to distract Anna. I do what I can with what I can. As I have said a hundred times over, I wish that I had the mind that would allow me to help someone who is ill. But I don't. The best that I can do is write a moderately humorous greeting card in hopes that it will cheer the ill to wellness.

I worry a lot. It is what I do.

She was in the hospital for a week with an infection. Longtime readers of my blog will remember that she was hospitalized for a month with an infection in 2005.

After being released from the hospital a week later, she became ill again. Anna and I rushed over to my aunt and uncle's house last Sunday morning. Aunt Marie couldn't breathe - Anna, the nurse, wanted to take a listen to her lungs before they went to the emergency room.

Late last week, cultures came back for Aunt Marie. She has Influenza B. So now she is isolated in a room by herself; visitors have to wear masks.

It is scary, you know? The reality is scary. The reality is that Aunt Marie won't live another ten years. It is scary to think of how she will die. It is scary to think of when she will die. It is scary to think of how her family will react to her death.

It is reasonable to be scared, I think. But it isn't very fun.

Sunday, March 23, 2008


Things that are annoying me:

1. My cousin/roommate Anna's horrible, no good, very bad mood. Starting the day we moved in. Continuing through tonight. I will acknowledge the fact that her job is demanding and her life is difficult, but I cannot accept her willingness to wallow in self-pity all day, every day. Fake it 'til you make it, girl.

2. My current sedentary lifestyle. Meg wants to run in a 5K next Sunday, I'll still be in my boot. My hockey team has a game next Saturday, I'll still be in the boot. I ate twice my body weight in candy today and I need to work it off. I'm still in the damn boot. And I will be for another week. Or more.

3. People who offer to do nice things and don't follow through. More specifically, my coworker who invited me and a guest (my sister) to the hockey game yesterday to sit in the suite that her husband had on behalf of his company. "Call me when you get to the game," she said, "and I'll come down and get you." (I had already scored free tickets for seats elsewhere in the building.) Meg and I go, all excited about the free food and drinks and no lines for the bathroom. I call her once. No answer. I call her a second time, a half-hour later. No answer. Meg and I had a perfectly fine time in our seats, but I couldn't help but feel like a tool.

4. Lucy's lack of a cell phone.
She left in at Chet's parent's house when they were overseas last month. It has been mailed to her, supposedly, but she's been without a phone for 4+ weeks. I find it very debilitating to our friendship.

5. Pointless hope. I got a phone call last week, asking about my interest in a job with a local company that I've been trying to get in with since I left college. I applied for a job there last year (which I actually don't specifically remember doing so) and they kept my resume on file. I immediately brushed off the possibility, since I am in graduate school and just took a new position in my company and whatever. I mentioned it to my mom and she pointed out that I don't make nearly enough money at my current job to be as loyal as I am, not to mention the fact that this could be my dream job. I'll return the recruiter's phone call tomorrow. The major problem with this, of course, is that I have spent half the weekend thinking about how I am going to put in my two weeks with my boss and how I am going to balance the new job (which I know nothing about) with graduate school. It is stupid to get my hopes up, obviously. It isn't like I have a good history with interviewing for jobs.

6. I have to go to work tomorrow. Weekends go by so damn quickly.

Saturday, March 22, 2008


It’s a strange day.

The first time Colin kissed me was the Saturday before Easter. It was three years ago.

I remember exactly what I was wearing. I know just what pair of jeans I had on. I still have the shirt.

Three years is a long time.
So much can change.
It went by so quickly

Thursday, March 20, 2008

A gift from the heavens

I've been on the couch, my computer balancing on my knees, since I got home from work. My intention was to work on the presentation that is due on Saturday. But I haven't been feeling it.

I haven't been feeling it at all.

1. My topic (Web 2.0) interests me a little bit too much. I get obsessed with the idea of finding the ideal example or the best source and then I spend a half-hour digging further and further to find it. It is really killing my productivity.
2. The telephone. My favorite soccer teammate. Cousin Emma. Neither were particularly short conversations. Meg called, too.
3. My ankle. I want to sit cross-legged on the couch, but my injury won't allow it. I am not comfortable and I am constantly changing positions.
4. I don't have a printer and I need hard copies of my sources so that I can highlight them, compare them, have them laid out in front of me.
5. Colin's MySpace, which has a highly addictive quality and manages to draw me in, at least for a minute, every single day
6. I would rather be doing anything else.
7. I don't want to do this.

Like I said, I'm not feeling it.

And I sat on the couch and tried to figure out an alternative. My roommate/cousin left 3 rented DVDs on the coffee table. But that distraction was too simple. The Red Wings have a game tonight. But I could definitely multi-task and work on my project. And what I'm really looking to do is to avoid it altogether. I have nowhere to go. And nothing to do.

Except watch the World Figure Skating Championships!

The clouds parted. There was a rainbow, unicorns, baby angels and confetti. I remembered that Worlds was on ESPN. From 7:30-11 pm.

Translation: the whole damn night.

I'll do homework tomorrow.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008


So Midwestern is a free to be you and me place on the web. There is no judgment. Only love.

And so you can admit that you watched Dancing with the Stars last night. Actually, you must admit it. Because I need someone to talk to about the amazingness that is Kristi Yamaguchi.

I've never watched an episode of Dancing before yesterday. I was converted to a fan immediately upon learning that she would be on the show. Kristi Yamaguchi? My hero. The gold medal in figure skating, obviously. Her saccharine and frickin' adorable personality. AND HER HUSBAND PLAYS PROFESSIONAL HOCKEY.

Hi. You have everything I want in life. I should hate you, but you're too damn perfect to hate.

And then she went and got herself on Dancing with the Stars and - seriously - how could I not watch a fellow figure skater compete?

Represent, Kristi!

And she kicked all ass. And I was like a proud momma.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

I have no control over my life

I don’t mean to hammer ya’ll on the subject of my bum ankle. It is there, in all of its swollen and pathetic glory, and very easy to write (translation: bitch) about. I am not feeling particularly creative these days. It's an easy out. Forgive me.

There is a lot going on, but not much happening. I am busy, but I am bored.

I don't want to think about the exam that I have tomorrow. Or the fact that Aunt Marie has been in and out of the hospital. I would rather not worry about my cousins Anna (my roommate) and Emma (her sister). Or that my mom seems hellbent on being self-destructive.

I kind of just want to take this year and fast forward through it.

A year from now I will be just one month shy of graduation. Maybe I'll have a job lined up, or be dating someone new. Maybe I won't have suffered through such a rotten winter. Maybe I won't be modeling this fashionable boot.

The grass always seems greener, I know. But a girl can hope.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Fashionable footwear

And no more soccer for at least two weeks.


Friday, March 14, 2008

Hey jealousy

Thinking this makes me feel guilty.
Admitting this ups it to a whole new level. It makes me feel like a terrible person.

When I decided to move to the town I currently live in, it was for two reasons. The first reason I moved there was to be nestled halfway between home and work (I was miserable, you’ll recall, living an hour away from my “life” to accommodate a job that I hated). The second reason was because Lucy and her husband, Chet, were at the end of their apartment lease and were also planning on moving to the area.

Lucy told me how she felt very isolated and alone the last time she and Chet lived away from our hometown. We talked about how great it would be to be living in the same general area. It was the little push that I needed to find an apartment to rent and move to where I live now.

Chet and Lucy extended their lease by six months. They didn’t want to move in the winter. Understandable.

And now I am quite certain that they won’t move out this way at all. I guess that is okay.

What I am less okay with, jealous about, childish towards, is the time that Lucy spends each week with our other friend, Colleen. Colleen and Lucy see each other every single day. They joined a gym together. They’re losing all of this weight together.

And I am left out.

I am left out because I don’t live close by.

I am left out because I’m a member of a different gym. (A nicer and better gym, for the record.)

I am left out because I, quite frankly, never needed to lose any weight. I can’t even obsess about diet and exercise with them. I already have the exercise part down pat. I can (and do) eat whatever I want.

I’m jealous. It’s ugly. Colleen has what I was promised.

And now I’m the isolated one.

Still the isolated one, rather.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Grumble, grumble, grumble

This much I know for certain: this Spring Break week is going to be over and I will have accomplished nothing but avoiding the accomplishment of every task I had planned to, while also hurting myself over and over and over again.

How very humbling it is, being a temporary invalid.

I am more down than I should be. I called my mom after my doctor’s appointment, frustrated and near tears. I did not hide it well. She told me to come home for dinner, where she proceeded to coddle me for a few hours. I kind of needed it. The inability to do what I love – soccer, skating, yoga, hockey – for an indeterminable amount of time absolutely kills me.

And my ankle is so big and ugly and swollen. It is just starting to turn black and blue.

My doctor’s appointment was basically an immense waste of my time. I waited and waited to see her. When I finally did, she looked at the ankle, had me bend it a few times and told me to suck it up and go away. Maybe it didn’t go exactly like that. I guess she wrote me a prescription (for ibprofen, big damn deal) and have the nurse wrap it in an ACE bandage. Then she told me to suck it up and go away. No x-ray. Which was exactly the reason I made the appointment. I’m not the type of patient who is going to stomp her feet and insist on anything (there is probably a reason she went to medical school and I did not), but an x-ray sure would’ve been a nice touch. You know, to ease my mind.

I’ve been instructed to make an appointment with podiatry if I do not see improvement by Friday. I don’t think it is necessary. I don’t think it is broken (but would still like to know for sure). I also don’t think that I’ll be playing soccer on Friday or skating on Sunday.

This sucks.

I guess I’ll put all of my extra energy towards healing.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008


Three months ago today, Colin and I got back from our quickie trip to New York. It was his 26th birthday.

Three months can go by so quickly.

So much can change.

My ankle is probably not broken, by the way.

I'm not sure that the same can be said for my heart.

Monday, March 10, 2008

This is rude

I had three severe injuries while playing high school soccer:
1. Back problems that plagued me throughout my high school career
2. Post-concussion syndrome that kept me out of school for a significant bulk of the first half of my junior year.
3. A sprained ankle, which I injured playing in a game in Windsor, Ontario (its funny what you remember) the weekend before Homecoming during my sophomore year.

Friday, I bumped my noggin and ended up with a slight concussion.
Today, I hesitated before going to play soccer. I'm still unsure if my head has cleared. But the soccer I play on Mondays is very casual, very recreational and - hey! - at 6:00 pm. And free. How could I not go?

It felt good to be out there. It is nice to be able to run around on a full-sized field, not the smaller ones we play 5 v. 5 indoor on.

I did a header. Stupidly. But felt okay. It was a good sign.

And then I tacked a guy with the ball. Rolled my ankle. Heard a snap. Or maybe it was more of a pop. I'm not quite sure.

What I am sure of is that it is quite swollen. And that my pain is scarily sharp. And that I had to employ a sketchy full-leg driving technique to get home. I called my mom to see if she had any suggestions. She seems to think I should get an x-ray. Anna is on her way home. I might go. I might not. I won't commit.

I don't want to deal with a sprained ankle.

At least this didn't happen last week.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

First is the worst, second is the best

I was robbed.

I finished in second place. I should have won. I'll explain it all later. Just know that I left the competition:
a. very happy with my skate
b. with a silver medal.

All in all, it was a successful and enjoyable day at the rink.

I don't quite know what is going on with my head. I'm nervous about it. I had one bad concussion in high school - I had post-concussion syndrome for months - and I cannot afford to have another one now. I am irritable and headachy and I want to sleep a lot.

The most irritating part about is is that I cannot quite determine if my symptoms are real or if they are all just a figment of my imagination. That sounds strange, I'm sure, but I experienced the same uncertainty the last time I dealt with this.

To be honest, I don't care if this is in my head or of this is real. I just hope it passes soon.

Friday, March 07, 2008


It was the second half of my team's double header. I was playing defense. A guy on their team was flying down the field with the ball. One of my teammates was close at his heels. The opponent made a bad touch to the ball, pushing it just a touch in front of him. As any defender would, I stepped into the ball and knocked it away from his feet.

The instant I touched the ball, I was hit. The opponent made no effort to slow down. Neither did my teammate. The right side of my head broke my fall. It took me a while to get up.

My first thought upon hitting the ground: ouch.
My second thought upon hitting the ground: I'm supposed to skate in a fucking competition tomorrow, damnit.

I am okay. Mostly. I sat, dazed, through the remainder of that game and half of the next. My teammates begged to let them drive me home, but I refused. I am not dizzy. I don't feel like I am going to puke. I just don't quite feel like myself. Everything is just a bit hazy.

A mild concussion, I'm sure.

I get back to Mom and Dad's house, where I am staying tonight because it is closer to my competition. I contemplate not telling Mom about my little booboo, but I do. "I know," she smirks. "Heather called me."

Heather, my best friend from middle and high school. Who happens to be on my soccer team.

It was sweet that she was looking out for me.

But the next time I see her, I'll probably have to kick her ass.

Today, we’ll go with a little bit of everything

This weekend is busy, but busy on my own terms. Busy how I like busy. I am skating in a competition, watching some of my friends skate in the very same competition (but at different levels), going out with Lucy and Colleen, skating again on Sunday morning. I imagine that I’ll spend Sunday with my family – perhaps including Meg, if she is home from her hockey tournament – and I have a hockey game on Sunday night. I won’t have any homework looming over me this weekend and I love that.

Speaking of my skating competition, I had my first competition anxiety dream last night. I dreamt that I was at one of the local rinks (not the rink that I am competing at, oddly enough) and had my skates stolen from my car. The thief replaced my skates with a pair of rental skates, which was especially rude! As disturbing as it is to consider how traumatic it would be to have a pair of skates that cost me $700+ stolen from my car, at least it wasn’t a dream about falling on my ass in front of a crowd of people.

I’m not going to call Colin. Thanks for all of the advice. My head knew all along that it wasn’t a good idea, but my heart really did not want to agree. Because I really do miss his friendship. And I do think that we can be friends. Just maybe not now. I’ll give it another month or two and then I will reevaluate how I feel about reconnecting with him. I imagine that the longer we go without contact, the easier it will be to maintain a safe distance.

I painted my nails red last night. It looks pretty hot. I love having my nails painted, but taking the time has fallen by the wayside now that I’m taking two graduate classes this semester. Somewhere in the middle of last night’s Celebrity Rehab binge, I managed to make time.

In a moment of rare and amazing productivity, I submitted my Plan of Work to my graduate program yesterday. My advisor approved it, so I am pretty much good to go. I’ll take two classes in the spring/summer term and two classes in the fall. I’ll be in my final semester a year from now, Winter 2009, where I’ll be doing my practicum (for work experience) and finishing up my final two classes. And I’ll be done, about a semester early, because I was fortunate enough to have credits transferred in.

My damn neck is pretty much killing me. It is very irritating.

I have made an assortment of grand plans for next week, which includes the following thrill rides: getting my very long hair trimmed, giving my apartment a very thorough cleaning, going to the gym and reading Lolita.

When I’m done with school, I think I would like to start coaching a soccer team. Yes, I know that I don’t need to be any busier than I already am, but I feel like that would be a crazy-rewarding task to take on and a really great way to give back to the sport that played a huge role in molding me into who I am.

I am forever planning the future. One night this week, as I got into bed, I thought about all of the different types of classes that I could take, tuition free, at the college where my mom teaches once I’m finished with my master’s degree. Digital photography. Website design. Massage therapy. Business. The possibilities are, like my interests, largely endless.

Thursday, March 06, 2008


At 6:00 tonight, I sat down with my laptop and my dinner in front of the television. On a commercial break from the local news, I clicked through channels. I came across Vh1, which happened to be showing Celebrity Rehab. Which happened to be a marathon. Which happens to still be on. And I, of course, happen to be sitting in front of the television with my laptop. Still.

The second Mary Carey returned to ballet and she was so happy with the simplicity that is dance - I was hooked. If I had abandoned my life and moved away from home and became a porn star and an addict and, as part of my treatment, was brought back to an ice rink? The reaction would have been the same.

I've been watching Celebrity Rehab for the last five hours.

I need Celebrity Rehab rehab.

My name is Alyson and I'm an addict.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Snow day

I cannot decide if I am pissed or if I am excited, but the University cancelled all classes today. All of the studying I did Monday and yesterday was for naught. We’re on spring break next week; I assume that we won’t be taking our exam until the 19th. Plenty of time to forget all of the necessary information, as well as all of the stupid little nuances and exceptions that our professor likes to test us on.

I think I would rather take the exam than shovel the 6+ inches of wet, heavy snow that is sitting on my very long driveway.

This does give me an extra night to work on the assignment I have due on Saturday. I cannot complain about that; I really didn’t want to have to squeeze that into my Thursday night and the precious little time I have between leaving work and going to my soccer game on Friday night. And I have other important things to do, which include but are not limited to: painting my nails, deciding how I’m going to wear my hair for my skating competition on Saturday, putting away the laundry that I did last night, idly surfing the internet, watching a bit of television and eating Indian food.

Since I am skipping class on Saturday to skate in my competition, my spring break has suddenly turned from one week into two. What a shame.

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Study partner

Biggest accomplishment of the day: not getting raped and/or killed by the classmate I studied with this evening.

There's this guy in my horrible, boring class who was in my class last semester. He's nice enough, quite strange, not the type of person that I would normally hang around with and definitely not the kind of guy that I would date. But we get along okay and he is friendly and, with the classes that I take, that alone is sort of a miracle.

In the last few weeks, he has been awkwardly flirting with me. Asking what I did for Valentine's Day. Wondering aloud if the reason that I studied in Denver for a semester was because of a boyfriend. Not rude, but nosy. He is definitely the class nerd + 15 years.

He asked if I wanted to study for tomorrow's exam. I readily agreed. I am terrified that I will fail this class, despite getting a 90% on the first exam, but I struggle to convince myself to study on my own because it is all so painfully boring. He invites me over to his house, texts me his address, says that he'd rather do it at his house because he'll be "all comfy at home" long before I even leave work (he's a teacher).

So I go. And, after he suggests that we have dinner, I pick up pizza on the way. I'm a little freaked out, because I don't know him all that well and nobody I know/love/trust knows where I am going and this is obviously the perfect beginning for a script of a made-for-TV movie.

His house was the nerd's bachelor pad paradise. Pinball machine just inside the front door. Papers and trinkets and dishes and junk cluttering every surface in the kitchen and dining room. The place had never been dusted. There were framed cartoon cells and stupid signs and a cardboard Darth Vader and - seriously, I cannot even describe it. Dorky dude heaven. Totally gross.

But we got some studying done. And he never tried to rape me. He didn't even attempt to touch me. He also didn't offer to pay me for the pizza. But that's okay. I don't want him to get the wrong idea.

I just want to get a good grade on my exam.

Monday, March 03, 2008

Reaching out (or not)

Is it completely ridiculous of me to think that Colin and I could be friends?

I miss him. I don't miss him as my boyfriend. I don't miss the ease with which he could ignore me, stir up every shred of my insecurity, dismiss me. But I miss our friendship. I miss that he was always up for a trip to the bar. I miss the look he would get on his face when one of my friends said something absurd. I miss playing soccer with him on Friday nights. I miss seeing him, talking to him and getting his emails and text messages during the day.

I miss him. I don't miss him as my boyfriend. And I'm not just saying that.

I'm not sure that it is possible and I am not sure that it is healthy, for us to be friends. Even if it is what I want.

Maybe he misses me like crazy, too.
Maybe he doesn't want anything to do with me.

Do I call him? Extend the olive branch? Put myself out there?

I know exactly how I would go about it. A voicemail, apologizing for how childish I acted when we last played soccer together. So even if he didn't call me back, my conscience would be clear of that ugly night. And calling me back would be up to him. And the possibility of salvaging a friendship would be his responsibility.

Is it foolish, cracking the door back open? Will I fall back into a toxic relationship? Is a genuine friendship even possible?

I'm confused. And I miss him. Not as my boyfriend.

Sunday, March 02, 2008


Emma called and invited me to go outlet shopping with her and Aunt Marie. I probably don't spend enough time over at their house (which is a 2 minute drive from my new house) and I always feel guilty about it. And I like to shop. So I went with. Even though I should have been doing homework.

GAP was our first stop. That place is always hit-and-miss. This visit was a hit. I bought dress pants for work, a black cardigan with 3/4 length sleeves and this cute black short-sleeved casual shirt that I could never properly describe.

We went to the Adidas outlet. I've been thinking that it is getting time to replace these turf shoes,and they were a deal that I couldn't turn away. Thankfully, the new pair are just as flashy as the old pair. The old pair will be retired to my soccer bag, where I'll use them when I play outdoor on really hard fields.

We went to Banana Republic. While I did not find any outstanding deals on clothes, I picked up a pair of ballet flats. Black patent leather, just like my turf shoes! Very cute. Cannot wait to wear.

Emma wanted to go to Old Navy. It felt like everything there was in bright, bold prints suitable for spring break. Not so suitable for me.

I went into the Anne Klein outlet while Emma and Aunt Marie were at J. Crew. I wanted to look for a few pairs of pants for work - Anne Klein pants seem to fit me better than most. And if I buy in a petite I can often get away without hemming them, which is a damn miracle. So, anyway, I did not want to bore Emma in an "old person's store" so I just ran over there.

And then the clouds parted and the angels sang and they were clearly having a huge end of the season sale and woah. Good shopping. I didn't get any pants, but I bought four new tops for work (which I desperately needed) and then I somehow ended up buying this black sheath dress that was regularly $119 for some ridiculously low price in the $20s. $22, I think. I totally don't need another black dress, but this purchase was justified by telling myself that it will never go out of style and, as long as I don't put on a ton of weight, I'll be able to wear it forever. [side note: the dress is a size 2. I do not wear a size 2. That sold it for my ego.] And, as Aunt Marie put it, "you never know when you'll have a wedding or a funeral to go to."

Finally, we went to Nike. I wanted to see if they had soccer socks (I loveLoveLOVE Nike soccer socks), which they did. Yay! And, because I had no self control during the entire shopping trip, I also got this pair of shoes:

But in pink instead of aqua, which pretty much makes them 90% cuter.

The moral of this story is that I bought a little too much. Not so good on the resolution, I'm afraid. But I got bitchin' good deals, bought things that I need (mostly work clothes! How responsible and boring!) and really didn't spend all that much money for the amount that I purchased.

I am not allowed to go to the mall again until April. Maybe even May.
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