The Future Mr. Scotch & myself have been trying to find a good wedding song for our first dance as husband and wife. Well, that's a simplification. He said he has no opinion, but vetoed my choice, which was Little Red Corvette by Prince. Now, I haven't been to many weddings, but the ones I have attended have featured a LAME first dance song. I want something that's funky, soulful, and romantic. Any and all suggestions will be considered. We have 35 days left and I'm getting really antsy to pick one. Keep in mind, the first dance will take place at an outdoor luau here:
Alternately, if you agree with me that Little Red Corvette is an AWESOME first song, please post that sentiment here and perhaps my man friend can be convinced.
More documentary footage on bee attacks:
Ever since the semester ended, I've been adjusting to a lot of new changes. I really don't know how I want to sum up the past few months, but I think the best way to tackle the task is by creating a list and then expanding a little on each point. (This is what happens when I have to make lists for both work and school; it starts pouring into my personal life, too! Haha.)
Shawn and Kathleen graduated. I'm not a fan of going to big graduation ceremonies, but as it turns out, I had to go to two within the same month. Shawn had to deal with my bad mood that day (I feel like I kind of ruined part of the experience for him... Bah!), but it ended up going really well. He's completely finished with college and education for the rest of his life. I'm so proud of him, and I couldn't be more jealous. ^///^
Since Shawn graduated, he's been working full time for Kohl's Corporate. Whenever any of my family members, or one of our friends, asks how he likes his job, he always tells them that he doesn't really like what he does there. Even though he says that, I know he really likes it. He's been picking up a ton of responsibilities: going to meetings, being "on call" for days at a time, attending events held by his team, etc. Whether Shawn wants to admit it or not, he likes being needed for something. He really should feel that way, too, especially after all the work he's put into the past few years in school.
Kathleen graduated high school and has been getting ready for college. She's going to the same university that Beth and I are at, which I'm totally psyched about. <3 As happy as I am for her, I have to be honest about the whole situation-- it's been a tough few weeks for her and the rest of our family. We've all been going through some major adjustments and there have been a lot of hurt feelings. I'm not sure where I stand on all of the issues anymore, but I do know that I'm trying to focus on making Kathleen as comfortable as possible with her new living situation with Beth. It's interesting how so many changes in just Kathleen's life have impacted the entire family. Something like this has never really happened in this way before.
My internship is going well.
I'm moving in with Shawn in a few weeks. Even though Shawn and I have lived in our current apartment together, with Beth, we finally found a place for just the two of us. We looked around for a few weeks, did some research, and then found the perfect place for us to live for the next year. I started getting a little stressed out when we were looking, because I hated the fact that I felt "homeless" but everything worked out in the end. The biggest challenge for us now is buying all of our furniture and still having enough money for rent. Like Shawn keeps telling me, we "have to take it slow." I guess I'm just excited about the idea of having an entirely new place to live with all new furniture. It's like I'm putting together a new family or something! ^__^ Slow steps are good.
I had to tell Dad that Shawn and I were moving in together. I had to do it. I mean, after all the years that Dad and I haven't been able to communicate, I had to tell him that Shawn and I were taking this step in our lives. Honestly, I wasn't worried about talking to Dad, but everyone else started to freak out about it. Mom even told me, at one point, that she didn't want to be in the house when I was talking to him. *sigh* Every other person I talked to gasped and made me promise to tell him/her how it went.
The thing is, everyone knows how difficult my relationship with Dad has been throughout my life. His Filipino culture is extremely different from my own, and hearing that two people are moving in together before marriage can tear people apart. There are little secrets to situations like this though: you have to know people. You have to know how they function, how they feel about certain issues, how they react to specific situations, how their thought processes break down information. I did my research and I made a plan.
Last weekend, I went home to talk with Dad. I walked up to him and asked him if we could talk alone. Within the next two hours, we stood there in my parents' bedroom talking about everything. I told him about Shawn and me, and from there we started talking about family and beliefs. Huge breakthroughs were made, and I told him that I wanted to fix everything that had gone so wrong in the past. I know that Dad and I don't have what Mom and I share, but I'm only 23 years old. I can be an adult here and try to fix something like a relationship.
A few times during our talk, Dad broke down. A while back, Mom told me that no one but her had ever seen him cry, and even then, it had happened only twice during their marriage. When he started crying, he told me he felt he was a bad father. And then he kept repeating the same story about how he had left to go on a vacation at a time when things in our family were finally good-- and then how guilty he felt about leaving for those few weeks. Even though I had little recollection about this happening (since I was so little), I felt everything he felt. I know how one guilty memory can tear me to shreds so I did the only thing I could do at the time. I listened.
Not everything between Dad and me is resolved now, but at least we have some of the issues out in the open. I told him that we need to talk more, instead of letting Mom be the messenger between us, and he agreed.
It's been an interesting few weeks. As always, I've been dealing with a lot of the stress by buying myself presents. *guilty look* I know I should be saving money for my new apartment, but having new dolls and accessories makes me feel so much better. They take my mind off of the stress. I'm trying not to repeat what happened last summer! So far, I've only had to take my stress medication for one week and I was able to stop after that. It's a good sign. ^__^
In a way, I feel like I've kind of graduated, too. Usually summer is a slow time for me, but so far, it's proven to be just as hectic as the school year!
It's hard to believe that we've had Molly for just over a year. She has been one of those animals that once we had her it was as though we had always had her. We commented as much to each other just weeks after getting her. I'm still not sure as to how any family could have given her up. The picture my mind conjures when imagining such people is of a cadre of sideshow attractions who revel in debauched acts. It's not a favorable picture.
Molly in many ways is the perfect dog. She's well-behaved, knows several commands, smart as a whip and easily controllable on the rare occasions when she steps out of line. The only thing about her behavior that I would like to change is her separation anxiety and the extreme excitement she experiences when we have visitors. We have casually tried to coax her to chill out when people come over but it's been clear for a long time that if we want to change this it's going to require quite a bit of work and some helpful volunteers. But even so, even with this essentially minuscule problem with her behavior, her only sin is that she loves too much. It's hard to punish someone for being so excited by your arrival home from a long day away.
Unfortunately, I don't have a lot of time to go on and on in a sappy endless litany about how my dog is more awesome than your dog. Just know that she is. So whenever you feel like ass, when nothing is going your way know that there's a dog out there, and she feels the deepest affection for you.
Kroy has gone offline
I know that the more committed followers will be quick to point out that this doesn't violate separation of church and state, because it mandates that the organizations don't use funds to convert people, but I'm calling bullshit on that. You can't enforce that without a HUGE effort. Besides, if there truly are huge numbers of people out there that just want to help people without saving them or converting them, then they should be perfectly willing to start a non-profit NON-FAITH ASSOCIATED organization with my tax money.
Fuck this shit. I'm voting for my dog.
Don't ruin our sweet lawn
I want to thank the man that sat on me in order to get into the seat on the bus next to me. I don't normally mind the person to person contact, but I'm still stinking of Old Spice and Gold Bond Powder as I type this. I don't think I can get the stink off. And my leg hurts. Were you that afraid, sir, of touching the man in the seat to your right? Did he have a sign that says 'I have leprosy' that I just failed to notice?
I want to thank my good sense for telling me not to bother with an umbrella today. As I stare at the ominously grey sky, I can't help but think this cannot end well. I'll likely splash about in fetid DC street run-off and hope that I don't get a rash. Curses. -- Okay, so the sky is clear now, but I can't really feel safe, can I? Not with this current spate of apocalyptic weather. Curses, again!
I want to thank the hooker that brought flats in to mainstream footwear fashion so much that I was forced to buy them because they're so damn comfy at the sacrifice of my stumpy legs. I thought after the great stair sliding incident of February Aught Eight, my woes with this particular pair were over, but no. Apparently, in flats, I walk in a way that is clearly some sort of quirk or deformation. I kick the inside of my opposite ankle. I think I've moving as though I think I'm an effing figure skater gliding on ice. There is no other explanation. I have a bruise on my stupid...ankle eye thingy! Unacceptable.
And finally...
I want to thank PAN for this picture:
It made me smile. I also like her handwriting enough to initially feel gnawing envy...then I realized it's likely a William & Mary kid, and I can't be feeling that for no kid in Williamsburg.
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