Don't know what to make of everything right now- just a mix of emotions. I am entirely looking forward to graduating, pursuing my career, and most of all- being married.

Labor day weekend was quite wonderful, as I spent three long days with my fiance. We stained and built a desk that I can use for design work that is gorgeous. Matching shelves now hold design books and treasured novels. I am grateful that he helped me make a small place of my own.
We also spent a day babysitting the cutest little dog. Next weekend rugby starts and I look forward to watching Jim coach again. It is so nice to see him doing something he loves. I will be busy with thesis work this weekend, but I am hoping to make the next game.
It has been around three months since we have moved in together and I am loving every minute of it.

July

   As the summer nights begin to cool, I realize the beginning of the semester is only a short week away. Where did all of my time go? While I have been busy trying to figure out why I haven't traveled at all this summer, I realize I have more important things to reminisce about.
   And I can definitely say that this summer has been my best yet. Although I have been hassled with long days at work, I came back to a beautiful home every night with my fiance (ahhh my fiance!!!) waiting patiently for me. I am beyond thrilled about our engagement and these two months have been wonderful.
  All I can say is that I look forward to what this school year brings for me, and what this year brings for Jim and me.

  Falling Water was more beautiful than any photograph I have ever seen. The wear of decades shone on the buildings exterior. Although there was no actual "falling water" because of the recent heat wave we have been going through, the full experience was still achieved.
   And now I am back to working most days, rarely having time to spend with my fiance. I fear that my confidence is diminishing as time goes by, as if I am becoming less and less of the girl he desires. We are great together, but I am not up to par with that hard-working, successful girl I usually am. I cannot quite piece together all of thoughts I have on my current state of mind, but I feel worn. But I love him enough to keep going, to keep trying to fulfill all the parts of his life that I should be. Because although I may not be confident in myself, I am confident in the two of us together.

Frank

  I am leaving for a few short days to visit the Wright building that I so adamantly adore. But the one I adore most I am leaving behind, and although it is only for a short time I am still upset. Visiting this beautiful place is something I have always wanted to do, since I was younger and would stay up late dreaming up designs. I am beyond excited, but I wish my fiance was coming with me. He works so unbelievably hard and needs a vacation just as bad as I do. This weekend we will be back together, and will be able to spend two entire days catching up, looking through pictures, dreaming up wedding plans, napping, and enjoying time off.
  Jim, I love you and will miss you very much while I am gone. Have fun and enjoy yourself! I promise to take plenty of pictures for you!

Fast Lane

   The summer is approaching its mid-way point, and I feel as though I am practically missing out. Working two jobs has left me with little time for the two of us, and I feel terrible. I long for those summer days when neither of us have plans, those days that we can wake up whenever we please, and do whatever we please. Bike rides, picinics, long car rides, family. I know these days will come, but I am restless for fresh air and silly hand-holding and kisses with my fiance as we stroll.
   But the perk of these long work days is the undeniable longing I maintain to get home to my boy and share a few hours together before retreating to sleep. And those hours are quite blissful :)

Always For You

My heart is working on overdrive trying to keep up with all the love it contains.

Unobstructed Views

    I am engaged! Life is blissfully sweet as my lover and I take time to celebrate each other. The reality of it has not set in quite yet, as I am still acting similar to a giddy school girl.
    His eyes shone as pure as a clear blue sea in that moment, and I was taken aback by the true beauty of my life. I cannot express how many times I had dreamt of that moment, only to have it more perfect than I could ever picture. We spent the rest of the night romanticizing as Sondre performed.
   This evening is certain to retain itself in my memory as a perfectly detailed event. As family and friends wish us happiness, we look towards a splendidly picturesque future together.
   Jim, I will savor this intimate moment for eternity. As our love continues to grow and reach the greater depths of our hearts, we must delight in the experience. I love you forever and always.

"No unobstructed view, no perfect truths, just our love. And there's no verse, no monument of words for our love. For they can't hold all I know about my love."

New Beginnings

   In a mere five days my life will begin with a wonderful man in a beautiful home. I will begin to pack all of my belongings tomorrow, and I am bound to have a few sentimental moments with items I must part with. It is an exciting time in my life, and although there are still many uncertainties, I am quite certain that I am making the right decision.
   He is such a good man, and I am lucky to have found someone whom truly gets me, and has an undeniable sense of accomplishment. We are comforted with eachothers silence and laughter, and enjoy each moment we have together. He is my weakness but is also my strength. Two individuals once lost, we found solace in eachother, and our love is the purest I have ever seen.
   Jim, the more I see you, the more I fall in love with you. Waking up to the sun rising each morning will be even sweeter in your arms, just as dreaming each night will come easier intwined with you underneath the sheets. I love everything in you- everything you stand for. Both time and experience has left me rather raw, but I am more than ready for this life.
    I am yours to keep.

    Hello life.

Cloudy

    My thoughts are jumbled into a heap of complicated jargon. I am not sure as to why this is so, I only know that I am not happy with myself lately- for so many reasons. I know recovery lasts a lifetime, but I want to be over that hump, I want to stop the toxic thoughts I let myself believe.
    If I really sit down to think about it, I embrace the wonderful things going on in my life- the fact that I ended junior year with a 3.6 gpa, the fact that I still have a summer job that will give me plenty of hours, and the fact that in less than two weeks I will be moving in with my boyfriend. But my mind always reverts back to negative thoughts of all these situations- I should have graduated this year, I still only have a summer job; not even and internship, and I am more than nervous to be moving in because I have a great track record of ruining great things.
   I am in constant struggle to supress all of these negative feelings. Often I feel I am not worthy of anything positive in my life, which is why I let my depression take over. It is most prominent when I think of moving in with Jim, and I feel guilty because he has been great through our whole relationship- so supportive and understanding. But I never feel quite good enough, and that is my own doing. He does nothing but love and care for me, and treat me like I am the only thing that matters, but I don't feel like I do the same. And I don't want to make the commitment to move in, only to destroy something that is truly good for me.
    So I am trying to overcome my own thoughts, to try to stay happy and away from thoughts that lead me into something I know isn't healthy.

And my little world is all coming together

    I am approaching the end of yet another school year, and after two finals next week I will officially be a senior. This year has been filled with many trials but I made it through quite successfully. I am continuing to flourish in the world of design and am beginning to find my little nook in the world.
    Currently, I am at home with my family, amongst a recently unpacked dorm room. But soon, everything will be packed up again as I make a new home with the love of my life. The possibilities of our relationship excite me, and I am anxious to move. Spending every night in his arms is all I can dream of- this life is more than I could have hoped for.
    Recently, I took part in a restaurant renovation for Food Network as a volunteer. I met so many great people whom were undeniably passionate about their work. I look forward to my career and the noteworthy interiors I will create. With a focused and intelligent man by my side, I am sure to accomplish all of my pursuits.

home

(things from home- things I love)

young blood

perfect for this beautiful day. i absolutely love life. and i absolutely love you, Jim. my life is more than i could have ever hoped for.

Two

I am two years sober today.  

"Achievement of your happiness is the only moral purpose of your life, and that happiness, not pain or mindless self-indulgence, is the proof of your moral integrity, since it is the proof and the result of your loyalty to the achievement of your values." Ayn Rand

  I woke early to the sound of my father shuffling to find his work clothes in the laundry room. It was peaceful to listen to the sound of normalcy. A few hours later, after taking my brother to school, I found my iPod and some warm clothes, and went for a run.
  The trail was empty- only a few small birds graced the path. Tree trunks were drunk with stagnet water. Two robins used the area for bathing. I stopped to sit on a bench, the one that overlooks our small town. Solar panels built on the local farm hide some of the view, but the landscape is still beautiful.
   The suddle noise of car engines filter the cooeing of newborn birds. This place is peaceful. I am peaceful. I sit for a few moments longer, daydreaming of my boy. Soon, the sun will find its way to us and our skin will breathe for the first time in months.
      I am longing for warm summer nights in the loft. With windows open, we will lie together, awake, long into the night.

Family

    I have been home for a mere four hours and already I am looking forward to leaving. I came home to a quiet house, and my sister arrived a few minutes later. Soon her new boyfriend is over, the third this year, and they retreated into her room.
     I understand that I am not perfect, but I would never act in such a way when my family members were around. They came out of the room just in time for my mother to walk in the door, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary. My sister was blatantly rude to my mom, lounging with her boyfriend downstairs in silence. Mom confronted them only to have my sister scream at her. And once my mom gets upset, she takes it out on everyone. It had not even been an hour since she got home before I was being yelled at.
    I love my sister, but I hate the way she confides in the most recent "true love" about our family. I hate the way she takes everything I own as if she is entitled to it because she is the greatest thing to ever grace this earth. I hate the way she makes everything her issue.
    I was so excited to come home today to see everyone, I let my boyfriends in a hurry, expecting something quite different than what I encountered. My mom left the house to get away from my sister, my brother is nursing a severely sprained ankle, and of course my sister is whining to her boyfriend about how terrible her life is.
    I love my family, but I hate how we act together, and I hate saying it is mostly Julie's fault right now, but it really does seem that way. We all have issues with her, but she is literally the hardest person to talk to. This is why I get so jealous over my boyfriend's family- they almost always get along, and when we visit we can actually spend time with them. When I visit my family we spend our time trying to avoid one another. I know things will change once my brother and sister get older, but I want us all happy now.

    I just spent another noteworthy weekend with the boyfriend. Being with him is always a beautiful break from reality- a small vacation in between long weeks of design. I find it harder to leave with each visit because I want more than anything to be able to stay.
    He does not belittle or patronize me like my roommates tend to do. At the end of the month I will be celebrating my second year self-injury free. Recently I have been reflecting on my progression, and I am so happy. My life is fulfilling- a have a great man in my life, a wonderful family, and am getting a great education. I have been successful in all aspects of my life, and I am greatful for getting a second chance.
   My life is beautiful, and I am so happy to know I have a handsome, smart, wonderful man to share myself with :)

Sprawl

I have been listening to this song on repeat for the past few days- such a simple song can have such appeal. While I lay in bed with the lights off listening to this song quietly before I fall asleep, I think fondly of my boy and our nights alone together. I miss him quite alot- he has such a hold on me and I am longing for a few moments to be with him. I crave his motivation and desire to achieve, and have been working vigorously to finish my design project. Goodnight love.

A&P

    Today during my Principles of Marketing class, my professor briefly discussed the recent bankruptcy of the A&P Grocer. Although I have never been to an A&P myself, nor did I know that they still existed, I am continually reminded of John Updike's short story titled A&P that I read for the first time in high school.
   Descriptions such as the line, "with her feet paddling along naked over our checkerboard green-and-cream rubber-tile floor" remain vividly in my mind, as I am sure it closely resembles the ceramic green and cream tile in my parents bathroom. I have never been able to figure out just quite why I love this story, but it resonates with me and I simply adore the passion in Updike's narrative.

A&P

    by john updike

    In walks these three girls in nothing but bathing suits. I'm in the third check-out slot, with my back to the door, so I don't see them until they're over by the bread. The one that caught my eye first was the one in the plaid green two-piece. She was a chunky kid, with a good tan and a sweet broad soft-looking can with those two crescents of white just under it, where the sun never seems to hit, at the top of the backs of her legs. I stood there with my hand on a box of HiHo crackers trying to remember if I rang it up or not. I ring it up again and the customer starts giving me hell. She's one of these cash-register-watchers, a witch about fifty with rouge on her cheekbones and no eyebrows, and I knowit made her day to trip me up. She'd been watching cash registers forty years and probably never seen a mistake before.

    By the time I got her feathers smoothed and her goodies into a bag -- she gives me alittle snort in passing, if she'd been born at the right time they would have burned her over in Salem -- by the time I get her on her way the girls had circled around the bread and were coming back, without a pushcart, back my way along the counters, in the aisle between the check-outs and the Special bins. They didn't even have shoes on. There was this chunky one, with the two-piece -- it was bright green and the seams on the bra were still sharp and her belly was still pretty pale so I guessed she just got it (the suit) -- there was this one, with one of those chubby berry-faces, the lips all bunched together under her nose, this one, and a tall one, with black hair that hadn't quite frizzed right, and one of these sunburns right across under the eyes, and a chin that was too long -- you know, the kind of girl other girls think is very "striking" and "attractive" but never quite makes it, as they very well know, which is why they like her so much -- and then the third one, that wasn't quite so tall. She was the queen. She kind of led them, the other two peeking around and making their shoulders round. She didn't look around, not this queen, she just walked straight on slowly, on these long white prima donna legs. She came down a little hard on her heels, as if she didn't walk in her bare feet that much, putting down her heels and then letting the weight move along to her toes as if she was testing the floor with every step, putting a little deliberate extra action into it. You never know for sure how girls' minds work (do you really think it's a mind in there or just a little buzz like a bee in a glassjar?) but you got the idea she had talked the other two into coming in here with her, and now she was showing them how to do it, walk slow and hold yourself straight.

    She had on a kind of dirty-pink - - beige maybe, I don't know -- bathing suit with a little nubble all over it and, what got me, the straps were down. They were off her shoulders looped loose around the cool tops of her arms, and I guess as a result the suit had slipped a little on her, so all around the top of the cloth there was this shining rim. If it hadn't been there you wouldn't have known there could have been anything whiter than those shoulders. With the straps pushed off, there was nothing between the top of the suit and the top of her head except just her, this clean bare plane of the top of her chest down from the shoulder bones like a dented sheet of metal tilted in the light. I mean, it was more than pretty.

    She had sort of oaky hair that the sun and salt had bleached, done up in a bun that was unravelling, and a kind of prim face. Walking into the A & P with your straps down, I suppose it's the only kind of face you can have. She held her head so high her neck, coming up out o fthose white shoulders, looked kind of stretched, but I didn't mind. The longer her neck was, the more of her there was.

    She must have felt in the corner of her eye me and over my shoulder Stokesie in the second slot watching, but she didn't tip. Not this queen. She kept her eyes moving across the racks, and stopped, and turned so slow it made my stomach rub the inside of my apron, and buzzed to the other two, who kind of huddled against her for relief, and they all three of them went up the cat-and-dog-food-breakfast-cereal-macaroni-ri ce-raisins-seasonings-spreads-spaghetti-soft drinks- rackers-and- cookies aisle. From the third slot I look straight up this aisle to the meat counter, and I watched them all the way. The fat one with the tan sort of fumbled with the cookies, but on second thought she put the packages back. The sheep pushing their carts down the aisle -- the girls were walking against the usual traffic (not that we have one-way signs or anything) -- were pretty hilarious. You could see them, when Queenie's white shoulders dawned on them, kind of jerk, or hop, or hiccup, but their eyes snapped back to their own baskets and on they pushed. I bet you could set off dynamite in an A & P and the people would by and large keep reaching and checking oatmeal off their lists and muttering "Let me see, there was a third thing, began with A, asparagus, no, ah, yes, applesauce!" or whatever it is they do mutter. But there was no doubt, this jiggled them. A few house-slaves in pin curlers even looked around after pushing their carts past to make sure what they had seen was correct.

    You know, it's one thing to have a girl in a bathing suit down on the beach, where what with the glare nobody can look at each other much anyway, and another thing in the cool of the A & P, under the fluorescent lights, against all those stacked packages, with her feet paddling along naked over our checkerboard green-and-cream rubber-tile floor.

    "Oh Daddy," Stokesie said beside me. "I feel so faint."

    "Darling," I said. "Hold me tight." Stokesie's married, with two babies chalked up on his fuselage already, but as far as I can tell that's the only difference. He's twenty-two, and I was nineteen this April.

    "Is it done?" he asks, the responsible married man finding his voice. I forgot to say he thinks he's going to be manager some sunny day, maybe in 1990 when it's called the Great Alexandrov and Petrooshki Tea Company or something.

    What he meant was, our town is five miles from a beach, with a big summer colony out on the Point, but we're right in the middle of town, and the women generally put on a shirt or shorts or something before they get out of the car into the street. And anyway these are usually women with six children and varicose veins mapping their legs and nobody, including them, could care less. As I say, we're right in the middle of town, and if you stand at our front doors you can see two banks and the Congregational church and the newspaper store and three real-estate offices and about twenty-seven old free-loaders tearing up Central Street because the sewer broke again. It's not as if we're on the Cape; we're north of Boston and there's people in this town haven't seen the ocean for twenty years.

     The girls had reached the meat counter and were asking McMahon something. He pointed, they pointed, and they shuffled out of sight behind a pyramid of Diet Delight peaches. All that was left for us to see was old McMahon patting his mouth and looking after them sizing up their joints. Poor kids, I began to feel sorry for them, they couldn't help it.

    Now here comes the sad part of the story, at:least my family says it's sad but I don't think it's sad myself. The store's pretty empty, it being Thursday afternoon, so there was nothing much to do except lean on the register and wait for the girls to show up again. The whole store was like a pinball machine and I didn't know which tunnel they'd come out of. After a while they come around out of the far aisle, around the light bulbs, records at discount of the Caribbean Six or Tony Martin Sings or some such gunk you wonder they waste the wax on, sixpacks of candy bars, and plastic toys done up in cellophane that faIl apart when a kid looks at them anyway. Around they come, Queenie still leading the way, and holding a little gray jar in her hand. Slots Three through Seven are unmanned and I could see her wondering between Stokes and me, but Stokesie with his usual luck draws an old party in baggy gray pants who stumbles up with four giant cans of pineapple juice (what do these bums do with all that pineapple juice' I've often asked myself) so the girls come to me. Queenie puts down the jar and I take it into my fingers icy cold. Kingfish Fancy Herring Snacks in Pure Sour Cream: 49¢. Now her hands are empty, not a ring or a bracelet, bare as God made them, and I wonder where the money's coming from. Still with that prim look she lifts a folded dollar bill out of the hollow at the center of her nubbled pink top. The jar went heavy in my hand. Really, I thought that was so cute.

    Then everybody's luck begins to run out. Lengel comes in from haggling with a truck full of cabbages on the lot and is about to scuttle into that door marked MANAGER behind which he hides all day when the girls touch his eye. Lengel's pretty dreary, teaches Sunday school and the rest, but he doesn't miss that much. He comes over and says, "Girls, this isn't the beach."

    Queenie blushes, though maybe it's just a brush of sunburn I was noticing for the first time, now that she was so close. "My mother asked me to pick up a jar of herring snacks." Her voice kind of startled me, the way voices do when you see the people first, coming out so flat and dumb yet kind of tony, too, the way it ticked over "pick up" and "snacks." All of a sudden I slid right down her voice into her living room. Her father and the other men were standing around in ice-cream coats and bow ties and the women were in sandals picking up herring snacks on toothpicks off a big plate and they were all holding drinks the color of water with olives and sprigs of mint in them. When my parents have somebody over they get lemonade and if it's a real racy affair Schlitz in tall glasses with "They'll Do It Every Time" cartoons stencilled on.

    "That's all right," Lengel said. "But this isn't the beach." His repeating this struck me as funny, as if it hadjust occurred to him, and he had been thinking all these years the A & P was a great big dune and he was the head lifeguard. He didn't like my smiling -- -as I say he doesn't miss much -- but he concentrates on giving the girls that sad Sunday- school-superintendent stare.

    Queenie's blush is no sunburn now, and the plump one in plaid, that I liked better from the back -- a really sweet can -- pipes up, "We weren't doing any shopping. We just came in for the one thing."

    "That makes no difference," Lengel tells her, and I could see from the way his eyes went that he hadn't noticed she was wearing a two-piece before. "We want you decently dressed when you come in here."

    "We are decent," Queenie says suddenly, her lower lip pushing, getting sore now that she remembers her place, a place from which the crowd that runs the A & P must look pretty crummy. Fancy Herring Snacks flashed in her very blue eyes.

    "Girls, I don't want to argue with you. After this come in here with your shoulders covered. It's our policy." He turns his back. That's policy for you. Policy is what the kingpins want. What the others want is juvenile delinquency.

    All this while, the customers had been showing up with their carts but, you know, sheep, seeing a scene, they had all bunched up on Stokesie, who shook open a paper bag as gently as peeling a peach, not wanting to miss a word. I could feel in the silence everybody getting nervous, most of all Lengel, who asks me, "Sammy, have you rung up this purchase?"

    I thought and said "No" but it wasn't about that I was thinking. I go through the punches, 4, 9, GROC, TOT -- it's more complicated than you think, and after you do it often enough, it begins to make a lttle song, that you hear words to, in my case "Hello (bing) there, you (gung) hap-py pee-pul (splat)"-the splat being the drawer flying out. I uncrease the bill, tenderly as you may imagine, it just having come from between the two smoothest scoops of vanilla I had ever known were there, and pass a half and a penny into her narrow pink palm, and nestle the herrings in a bag and twist its neck and hand it over, all the time thinking.

    The girls, and who'd blame them, are in a hurry to get out, so I say "I quit" to Lengel quick enough for them to hear, hoping they'll stop and watch me, their unsuspected hero. They keep right on going, into the electric eye; the door flies open and they flicker across the lot to their car, Queenie and Plaid and Big Tall Goony-Goony (not that as raw material she was so bad), leaving me with Lengel and a kink in his eyebrow.

    "Did you say something, Sammy?"

    "I said I quit."

    "I thought you did."

    "You didn't have to embarrass them."

    "It was they who were embarrassing us."

    I started to say something that came out "Fiddle-de-doo." It's a saying of my grand- mother's, and I know she would have been pleased. 
    "I don't think you know what you're saying," Lengel said.

    "I know you don't," I said. "But I do." I pull the bow at the back of my apron and start shrugging it off my shoulders. A couple customers that had been heading for my slot begin to knock against each other, like scared pigs in a chute.

    Lengel sighs and begins to look very patient and old and gray. He's been a friend of my parents for years. "Sammy, you don't want to do this to your Mom and Dad," he tells me. It's true, I don't. But it seems to me that once you begin a gesture it's fatal not to go through with it. I fold the apron, "Sammy" stitched in red on the pocket, and put it on the counter, and drop the bow tie on top of it. The bow tie is theirs, if you've ever wondered. "You'll feel this for the rest of your life," Lengel says, and I know that's true, too, but remembering how he made that pretty girl blush makes me so scrunchy inside I punch the No Sale tab and the machine whirs "pee-pul" and the drawer splats out. One advantage to this scene taking place in summer, I can follow this up with a clean exit, there's no fumbling around getting your coat and galoshes, I just saunter into the electric eye in my white shirt that my mother ironed the night before, and the door heaves itself open, and outside the sunshine is skating around on the asphalt.

    I look around for my girls, but they're gone, of course. There wasn't anybody but some young married screaming with her children about some candy they didn't get by the door of a powder-blue Falcon station wagon. Looking back in the big windows, over the bags of peat moss and aluminum lawn furniture stacked on the pavement, I could see Lengel in my place in the slot, checking the sheep through. His face was dark gray and his back stiff, as if he'djust had an injection of iron, and my stomach kind of fell as I felt how hard the world was going to be to me hereafter.

"It's no good fighting against Fate or trying to resist the smile of the angels. Who can help being swept off his feet by all that is beautiful, charming, adorable?" - Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

I have found the most amazing man ever put on this earth; and he is all mine. I am grateful for his love every day, and my desire to be with him grows stronger with every passing moment.

The New Year

"I wish the world was flat like the old days, then I could travel just by folding a map. No more airplanes, or speedtrains, or freeways; there'd be no distance that can hold us back."

I am hopeful for what 2011 will bring. One semester left until a summer spent with my love. This new year will be bright for the both of us.