Two hundred sixty-one

Mochahontas with

my New City friend. Christmas

wrapping on the cheap.

As a side note of my final haiku of 2014, I drove to my New City today to sign paperwork for an apartment. I got a huge surge of excitement as I was driving there. Several things have happened over the last few days that have totally confirmed that I made the right decision. After I was done with the apartment stuff, I was able to go get coffee with a childhood friend who lives there. I am so unbelievably excited about living in the same city as her for the first time in eight years. 

I stopped by Target on my way home because, duh, Target. I will be honest and say that I have a wrapping paper/gift wrapping supplies problem. It has gotten better, but I love a good deal. My favorite is buying Christmas wrapping paper that doesn't necessarily look like Christmas wrapping paper when it goes on clearance. 

See? Not Christmas-y. Thank you pink and lime green.

That was the only roll I found that I liked that I felt confident could pass as non-Christmas paper. Plus, I'm about to move and I really need more wrapping paper like I need a hole in my head. 

Two hundred sixty

I am feeling a
little bit haiku'd out. One
hundred five more left.

Two hundred fifty-nine

Well, I did the deed.

I accepted the job. Now

I just have to move.

Two hundred fifty-eight

Babysat my sweet
nephew. I think I'm going
to be moving? Yeah.

Two hundred fifty-seven

I ran for the first
time in months. It felt better
than I remembered.

Two hundred fifty-six

Hamburger and a
tasty milkshake. So much food
I'm gonna explode.

Two hundred fifty-five

Another Christmas
come and gone. The best gift is
time with family.

Two hundred fifty-four

Christmas eve friendship
traditions. Christmas sans fruit
cake. Whipped cream for days.

Two hundred fifty-three

Never fail pound cake
still has not failed me. Rainy
nights make driving rough.

Two hundred fifty-two

What has two thumbs and

has a big girl job offer?

This girl, that is who!

Two hundred fifty-one

Season four. Laundry.
Muffin. Drink. Bad dinner choice.
Cute monster stocking.

Two hundred fifty

Slower than slow which
is absolutely fine with
me. Full Christmas tree.

Two hundred forty-nine

Lovely, slow, work day.
My ear was tickle attacked
by a Christmas tree.

Two hundred forty-eight

Awkward rejecting.

Another interview out

of the way. Phone call.

Two hundred forty-seven

First interview for
a "real" job. Kind of scary;
a lot exciting.

Two hundred forty-six

I have now passed five

tests in my field. This is just

a bit excessive. 

Two hundred forty-five

When you wake up and
think, "Uhg, I have to work," it's
time for a new job.

Two hundred forty-four

So Christmas is next
week? What in the world? Also,
engagement season.

Two hundred forty-three

I'm done! It does not
seem possible. I'm excited
but also verklempt.

Two hundred forty-two

Tomorrow I will
graduate. But today, I
will enjoy my life.

Two hundred forty-one

Cereal and lots
of thirty pound boxes. Pants
made of unicorns.

Two hundred forty

Yes, this is how you

pronounce my name, but I'll live

if you get it wrong.

Two hundred thirty-eight

It finally broke.

My fever, that is. One oh

two is just too high.

Two hundred thirty-seven

Four in the morning
Nine-one-one calls are never
a good thing to make.

Two hundred thirty-six

Inappropriate
food jokes. Inappropriate
games. I love my friends.

Two hundred thirty-five

Seven hundred and
eighty-seven hours. I
can't believe it's done!

Crazy

It's probably cheating to write a blog about today's haiku, but this is my blog, and I make the rules. Or something like that.

Earlier, I was watching a kind of strange episode of Switched at Birth. Although, let's be honest, those writers are clearly out of material, because the episodes have all been strange as of late. There was a quote that I kind of loved in the midst of the oddness.

"Every family has a little crazy, and if I have to have crazy, I prefer your crazy over anyone else's."

I frequently joke that I am crazy. Crazy as in quirky and different more so than crazy as in I need to go spend some time in a mental health facility, although some days, that seems like a good idea. All families are crazy. All families have their weirdness, their flaws, their oddities. Mine does. Whoa. Something seems to have made the crazy explode over the last twelve months, but that is another story entirely. And despite all their flaws, and the things that drive me batty about them, I wouldn't trade that crazy for a different one.

It also got me thinking about the family I hope to create one day. The kind of crazy I would be inviting into my life, but also the kind of crazy I would be bringing to the table. It got me thinking about what a beautiful thing it is to embrace someone else's crazy. To acknowledge someone else's crazy, accept it, and realize that, somehow, the combination of your crazy and his makes you two better, crazier, people that somehow manage to morph into one crazy family.

I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say. That's part of my crazy. I guess the point I am trying to make is that crazy doesn't mean bad. Crazy means different, unique, interesting. Sometimes crazy is hard or uncomfortable. But sometimes, if you look at it the right way and under the right circumstances, crazy can only be seen as completely, utterly, mind-numbingly beautiful.

Two hundred thirty-four

Yes. "I prefer your
crazy over anyone
else's." Beautiful.

Two hundred thirty-three

He done got blewd up.
Final professor meeting.
Holy crap. I'm scared.

Two hundred thirty-two

Bathroom cups full of
chocolate and marshmallows.
Yeah, that's really weird.

My head and my heart

Damnit. My one single friend is about to not be single. Actually, that isn't true. I mean she is about to not be single. I do have another single friend, she just lives a few thousand miles away, so that hardly counts. I know life isn't a race. I know it is unfair of me to compare myself to other people. I know lots of things. I know that a guy will come along when the time is right. I know that he will be worth the wait. I know that I am perfectly capable, strong enough, and independent enough to be on my own. I know it. In my head, I know all of it. In my heart? Not so much. In my heart, I just ache. I long for something I have never had; something that, more often than not, feels like I never will have. I ache for the children I want to create, I ache for someone to share my life with. I ache for someone to love. Then I start playing the "if only" game. If only I was funnier, smarter, more adventurous, friendlier, more outgoing, or any other positive adjective. Then maybe I would have someone to share my life with. Someone to love. Someone to come home to. I know in both my head and my heart that I am idealizing a relationship. I know it isn't perfect. I know that relationships, like all good things in life, are hard. I know sometimes they hurt. But I also know that relationships, like all good things in life, are worth doing in spite of the difficulties that sometimes seem to hover. An easy life is a boring life.

I try to be okay with being single. I do. I don't want to regret anything about this part, or any part, of my life. I know I will look back on this part of my life fondly, and I don't want to wish it away by spending my time being forlorn about being single. Perhaps it doesn't seem like it. Many days it doesn't feel like it. Maybe I'm not okay with it because I'm not supposed to be okay with it. I don't know. I don't claim to know how these things work. Somebody once told me that I wouldn't have the desire in my heart if it wasn't going to be fulfilled, but I don't know if that is accurate. Maybe that is what bothers me the most. The thought of never finding somebody. That is terrifying to me. Part of it, of course, is that I want to have kids. And I know I can do that on my own in a number of ways, but that isn't the point. Part of the joy of raising kids is doing it with somebody who is raising them with you who is equally invested in the well being of those children.

It often feels like my head and my heart are in a constant battle. My head is okay with it most of the time. My head tries not to think about it. My head keeps myself occupied as often as possible, and my head knows that I can live my life without anybody and survive. My heart, though, oh my heart. My heart is another story. My heart doesn't want to survive. My heart wants to live, to thrive. And sometimes, despite the fullness in my head, my heart feels strangely, heartbreakingly, achingly empty.

Two hundred thirty-one

Sometimes life is just
completely overwhelming
in a million ways.