Why does some of the music they play at my work remind me of a seventies made-for-tv love story?
Why does some of it have roosters crowing in it? Are roosters really that relaxing? Don’t they make you wanna wake up instead of relax?
Why does my nose seem to have an infinite supply of boogers? Ten minutes after THOROUGHLY cleaning it out, it’s full of them again. All I have to say is boogers are jerks.

Oh yeah, and why am I so awesome?

An advertisement on the Prague metro.

An advertisement on the Prague metro.

Published in: on August 24, 2008 at 6:52 pm  Comments (1)  

What I did for my summer vacation

First of all, it’s not like I’m in school or anything. Usually work just slows down so it feels kind of vacationy. So I’m just going to write an update of my life since this summer has had more excitement than the past 10 years of my life combined.  

I should begin with Memorial Day weekend. My friend Lindi and I decided to go dancing at this place called The Hotel downtown. I was hesitant to go because I’d heard it was kind of a wild place, but some other friends of ours were going and I needed to get out and dance my cares away, so I went. It’s kind of a funny story just how we started talking. There were no cheesy lines, no glancing at each other from across the crowded room. I just walked up to him, on Lindi’s behalf, to ask if he was Colombian. Then he turned and said something to his friend in French, so I figured he wasn’t who Lindi thought he was. Then I answered him back in French. We started talking, and maybe kissed a couple of times, and two weeks later, I finally started pronouncing his name right. By the way it’s Chouaib, pronounced Shwibe for you Anglophones. 

After we’d been seeing each other for about four weeks (we agreed the first week to be exclusive), I got on a plane to Prague. The thought of someone actually wanting to be my boyfriend and the fact that I was having a hard time finding something wrong with him (something that would take him out of the marriage material category) was really starting to freak me out. I wish I could say that’s why I left. Although it wasn’t, I was looking forward to the break. Not that I wanted to get away from him, I was completely in L-O-V-E by that point, but I just didn’t expect much more after. I’d given up on the idea of the whole long-term commitment thing. All the guys I had liked weren’t keen on the idea and all those who were interested in one woman only had already found one or were not interested in me as a candidate to fill that position. I had decided that I only attracted non-commitals and maybe it was just my lot in life to be an awesome aunt to my little Sam, Maddi and Lily. The aunt who never got married. Despite his assurances in sugary-sweet text messages and even though he told me I was his “grand amour” (great love), I didn’t believe this one would last any longer than my longest relationship. I only saw it eventually fizzling when he became disinterested or decided that I wasn’t the one for him. 

So I went to Europe. It’s so strange. I love Europe so much that I could live in most any European country happily for the rest of my life. It was a dream to finally be in Prague, a dream I’d waited for 10 years to be fulfilled. I was with my dad, who I hadn’t seen for four months and we were traveling through beautiful mountains and countryside, visiting cities with amazing food and museums. But what was strange was how homesick I would get. I had dreams about home almost every night. After the first week, we were on our second day in Ljublana, Slovenia, and I couldn’t believe our trip wasn’t even half-over. 

Don’t get me wrong, I had a fabulous time and took advantage of every second. I ran my dad ragged trying to soak up every bit of culture in each city. I didn’t want to miss a thing. But I did. I missed home. 

When I got back, Chouaib was still there, waiting for me. He picked me up at the airport and a week later, he started talking about marriage – if he moved out of state next year he wanted me to go with him. Also his lease was going to be up in September and if we got married, we could move in together. I responded that we’d see where we were next year and then we could talk about it. I think he thought that meant that I didn’t want to be with him. So for the next couple of days he sulked around. I tried to reassure him. It’s always been in my head that you date for a year before you get married. My assurances didn’t seem to sink in. Then he left me a note one day saying that I was his last love and that was all he wanted. And it worked. I called him and told him ok, but that I needed a ring. I got one the very next day.  

I guess that’s a lot to take in. I’m going to have to write about Europe (with pics), and what else I’ve done (probably boring in comparison to this post) in another blentry (blog entry).  

So much has changed. And so much more is about to.

Published in: on August 17, 2008 at 4:47 pm  Comments (4)