C started med school on Monday: it was his orientation week. The first day was mostly logistical (student I.D., insurance talks, OSHEA and HIPAA speeches, etc.). The second day was more inspirational for him as they were treated to talks on ethics and what it means to be an Emory-educated physician. The week progressed thus, with lectures and speeches and meetings. He came home and recounted his experiences to me and his excitement and confidence grew.
I guess I am more excited for him to begin this chapter than nervous. I guess I'm not the one doing the school work, so it doesn't affect me as much. In a way I am a little jealous that he is jumping into a new social scene and experiencing this part of his life without me. I can't talk to him about what we learned in class, or comment on our new found friends, or even commiserate with him on his workload. He said that he likes having me home to talk to when he comes home and having an escape from medical school--but maybe he will feel differently as it gets harder.
I have no friends in Atlanta, and my best friends are at least a 1,000 miles away. And now, my "bestest" friend is not only busy, but making new friends without me in medical school; intelligent, attractive, interesting friends with whom I have little or nothing in common with.
I know its not his fault, but the loneliness is already starting to sink in.
Please God, let all this sacrifice be worth it....
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Everything but the glass slipper
I'm not going to lie: my life up to now has been pretty rough. From my abusive father eventually abandoning me, to being raised under the poverty line, to the various and sundry heartaches and disappointments I've suffered, I resigned myself to a difficult existence. But, like all fairy tales, one day it all changed. At the risk of being cliche' (which I often find that my life is) one day my Prince Charming rode up in his Harley, swept me off my high-heeled feet, and the rest is history.
So now, in the midst of our Happily Ever After, I am faced with some doubts. I’m still waiting for something terrible to happen or to wake up from this dream of an easy life that I’ve been having. What if the clock strikes twelve and it all goes back to crap? What if I find myself metaphorically stoking the fire in a soot-stained apron realizing that it was all my imagination?
Maybe A), God decides that once in a while we need a break from trials. Or B)maybe God prefers C and I am just blessed by association(like being popular by association, only with more perks). (In case you are wondering, the correct answer is B)
But, surely, I was born to struggle?
We have been blessed as newlyweds. My old roomate and good friend lamented of her marital financial situation while at my bridal shower, stating that her apartment was smaller than my living room and some nights they were lucky to get a good meal. Ironically, I had more money once I got married than before. C bailed me out of my college credit card follies, and we built up a savings account. My dismal income as a legal assistant at a law firm was augmented by a monthly contribution by his generous parents. Somehow the bills always got paid and we usually had a little left over for fun. For the first time in my life I have a new car.
Now, a year and a half later, we own our cars outright and have only one AMEX that we pay off monthly. We just bought a house and had enough money left over from our downpayment to remodel our house and add an addition.
This is in stark contrast to my childhood where I had to pay for my school field trips and was the only kid that got the brown bagged "Free Lunch" that the bus driver brought from the school cafeteria while the other kids brought Lunchables or -gasp!- bought food. The only new pair of jeans I remember getting were a $20 pair from JCPenny that I wore 4 out of 5 days of the week my freshman year in high school. (I didn't even know that most jeans cost more than 50$ until I got to college). Pretty much all my clothes were hand-me-downs. In seventh grade a malicious girl found out that my neighbors had given us a bag of clothing from their grandkids and spread it around school that I wore somebody's grandma's clothes. (Actually, it was the grandparents of a classmate of mine who were our neighbors, so inevitably some of the pieces must of been hers or her cousins'). We turned on the oven and left the door open in the winter for heat or had little space heaters in our rooms to keep us warm. One Christmas, my mom made our presents out of pieces of fabric she had and dollar store items. I remember sneaking peeks out of our front window to try to catch the women from the church delivering the donated presents from the members "anonymously" to our door on Christmas Eve. I remember wishing I were a chameleon and could blend into the rack of candy in the checkout aisle when my mom pulled out the brightly colored food stamps to pay for our groceries. I remember saving excess water to use to flush the toilet to save on the water bill. I remember worrying about the electricity bill when I was 8 and teaching my little sister to turn off all the lights when she left a room.
So now, in my cushy life, I cant help but feel its precariously balanced on the edge of a precipice. What if our luck runs out? What if I drag C down into my muddy pit of despair like Shrek in the swamp? Im just a big ball of optimisim!
So now, in the midst of our Happily Ever After, I am faced with some doubts. I’m still waiting for something terrible to happen or to wake up from this dream of an easy life that I’ve been having. What if the clock strikes twelve and it all goes back to crap? What if I find myself metaphorically stoking the fire in a soot-stained apron realizing that it was all my imagination?
Maybe A), God decides that once in a while we need a break from trials. Or B)maybe God prefers C and I am just blessed by association(like being popular by association, only with more perks). (In case you are wondering, the correct answer is B)
But, surely, I was born to struggle?
We have been blessed as newlyweds. My old roomate and good friend lamented of her marital financial situation while at my bridal shower, stating that her apartment was smaller than my living room and some nights they were lucky to get a good meal. Ironically, I had more money once I got married than before. C bailed me out of my college credit card follies, and we built up a savings account. My dismal income as a legal assistant at a law firm was augmented by a monthly contribution by his generous parents. Somehow the bills always got paid and we usually had a little left over for fun. For the first time in my life I have a new car.
Now, a year and a half later, we own our cars outright and have only one AMEX that we pay off monthly. We just bought a house and had enough money left over from our downpayment to remodel our house and add an addition.
This is in stark contrast to my childhood where I had to pay for my school field trips and was the only kid that got the brown bagged "Free Lunch" that the bus driver brought from the school cafeteria while the other kids brought Lunchables or -gasp!- bought food. The only new pair of jeans I remember getting were a $20 pair from JCPenny that I wore 4 out of 5 days of the week my freshman year in high school. (I didn't even know that most jeans cost more than 50$ until I got to college). Pretty much all my clothes were hand-me-downs. In seventh grade a malicious girl found out that my neighbors had given us a bag of clothing from their grandkids and spread it around school that I wore somebody's grandma's clothes. (Actually, it was the grandparents of a classmate of mine who were our neighbors, so inevitably some of the pieces must of been hers or her cousins'). We turned on the oven and left the door open in the winter for heat or had little space heaters in our rooms to keep us warm. One Christmas, my mom made our presents out of pieces of fabric she had and dollar store items. I remember sneaking peeks out of our front window to try to catch the women from the church delivering the donated presents from the members "anonymously" to our door on Christmas Eve. I remember wishing I were a chameleon and could blend into the rack of candy in the checkout aisle when my mom pulled out the brightly colored food stamps to pay for our groceries. I remember saving excess water to use to flush the toilet to save on the water bill. I remember worrying about the electricity bill when I was 8 and teaching my little sister to turn off all the lights when she left a room.
So now, in my cushy life, I cant help but feel its precariously balanced on the edge of a precipice. What if our luck runs out? What if I drag C down into my muddy pit of despair like Shrek in the swamp? Im just a big ball of optimisim!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Its been hard to write uncensored thoughts on this blog. I never know who will read it and what they will think. Maybe I shouldn't care what they think--but I do.
It doesn't help that my husband is still Facebook friends with practically every girl he ever took to lunch or looked at twice--so in a few clicks they can find out my dirty secrets (or ours). Similarly, any of my exes could type my name into Google one day when they are bored and stumble upon this little gem. Does the whole world need to know about my issues? (Or is that the purpose of blogging--a quasi-anonymity with the benefit of fulfilling that subconscious need for attention???) Anyway...I guess I should try it and see if the world comes crashing down or if no one will read it/care/comment/notice (which I think is the more plausible outcome, and more comforting).
So lately I've been reading a lot about pregnancy. Every time I go into an office I almost pray that I will have to wait 10-15 minutes to see someone so I can sneek a peak at FitPregnancy or Baby magazine. I actually steal these from waiting rooms and read them on my lunch break. (In my defense, I usually only take the ones that are at least a month or two old). I've already figured out what exercise routine I will use so I avoid the "I'm-pregnant-so-I-can-be-a-whale-if-I-want-to" pounds, picked out a kick-ass stroller with more safety features than a luxury car, and decided I will breastfeed if it kills me. Maybe borderline obsessive, you say? Nah. After all, this will be the biggest event in my life thus far. We have talked about when we are going off the pill and start turning all our practice plays into a Superbowl win. How does anyone truly prepare? It hit me that our planned time to pop a bun in the oven (I love pregnancy puns, dont you?) is coming up fast and I have no idea what to expect. But is it too soon to run out and buy books? Should I wait until I'm preggo and then find from What to Expect When You're Expecting that I'm not supposed to drink Red Bull?
Speaking of Red Bull, what if I get pregnant before the planned time and I don't know it? What if I eat the wrong thing or paint my house and harm the fetus? What if C reads this and thinks I'm nuts and refuses to procreate with me? (LOL, yeah...right...)
I guess healthy babies have been born to women who didn't even know they were pregnant and carried on as usual--surely my kid can have two arms, two legs, and a relatively normal-shaped head too?
It doesn't help that my husband is still Facebook friends with practically every girl he ever took to lunch or looked at twice--so in a few clicks they can find out my dirty secrets (or ours). Similarly, any of my exes could type my name into Google one day when they are bored and stumble upon this little gem. Does the whole world need to know about my issues? (Or is that the purpose of blogging--a quasi-anonymity with the benefit of fulfilling that subconscious need for attention???) Anyway...I guess I should try it and see if the world comes crashing down or if no one will read it/care/comment/notice (which I think is the more plausible outcome, and more comforting).
So lately I've been reading a lot about pregnancy. Every time I go into an office I almost pray that I will have to wait 10-15 minutes to see someone so I can sneek a peak at FitPregnancy or Baby magazine. I actually steal these from waiting rooms and read them on my lunch break. (In my defense, I usually only take the ones that are at least a month or two old). I've already figured out what exercise routine I will use so I avoid the "I'm-pregnant-so-I-can-be-a-whale-if-I-want-to" pounds, picked out a kick-ass stroller with more safety features than a luxury car, and decided I will breastfeed if it kills me. Maybe borderline obsessive, you say? Nah. After all, this will be the biggest event in my life thus far. We have talked about when we are going off the pill and start turning all our practice plays into a Superbowl win. How does anyone truly prepare? It hit me that our planned time to pop a bun in the oven (I love pregnancy puns, dont you?) is coming up fast and I have no idea what to expect. But is it too soon to run out and buy books? Should I wait until I'm preggo and then find from What to Expect When You're Expecting that I'm not supposed to drink Red Bull?
Speaking of Red Bull, what if I get pregnant before the planned time and I don't know it? What if I eat the wrong thing or paint my house and harm the fetus? What if C reads this and thinks I'm nuts and refuses to procreate with me? (LOL, yeah...right...)
I guess healthy babies have been born to women who didn't even know they were pregnant and carried on as usual--surely my kid can have two arms, two legs, and a relatively normal-shaped head too?
Friday, July 3, 2009
Eight-legged Freaks
I keep having nightmares about spiders. I am not particularly afraid of spiders, but in my dreams I just can't seem to escape them. They are everywhere; hanging above my head, webs tangling my legs as I try to walk, under the covers, crawling down my back. What disturbs me the most is that these are almost nightly recurrences. When its not the arachnophobia-inducing nightmares, I dream about equally horrible circumstances: fighting off burly, bulletproof intruders; someone close to me dying; my husband leaving me. C said listening to strong bass in music makes you have nightmares, but I dont know if I am buying it. I think the spiders might have something to do with the few that are still lingering around the exterior of the house after surviving The Great Pressure Wash. But why would I dream about them in my bed and falling on me?
Any ideas?
Now maybe if I fall asleep with a can of Raid in my hand...
Any ideas?
Now maybe if I fall asleep with a can of Raid in my hand...
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