Love [luhv] -noun 1. a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. 2. a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child or friend. 3. a sexual passion or desire. 4. a person toward whom love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart. -verb (used with object) 5. to have love or affection for: All her pupils love her. 6. to have a profoundly tender, passionate affection for (another person).
I'm getting rather pathetic, cupcakes. The Boy went to Saskatchewan for the fourth week in a row (alone this time), and I missed him a ridiculous amount. The joy that raged through me when I got his "I'm coming home!" text message on Wednesday morning was off the charts.
Being without him though, did give me time to assess things. It's also gave me time to feel like I live at our place. Having to rely on buses to get around our fine city and find our way to the north end when it'd be so much easier to hang out at the old pad is a big part of that. Oh downtown, why do you have to be so appealing?
Back on point. It gave me time to talk to an old friend. A friend who really should not be my friend. We had our own messed up love story back in the day. Out of control emotions made us do things like send lyrics to each other and cry via webcam because we just couldn't be together. He was a boy who had been broken by previous relationships, a self-proclaimed robot. I was a girl (and still am the girl) who always wears her heart on her sleeve. I was sunshine and rainbows and he was a giant storm cloud. There was a long period of time where I didn't talk to him because he decided to date our mutual friend and I couldn't handle it (really, I told him he couldn't wax poetic to me and be with her -- it wasn't fair to anyone). We had a big discussion when he finally contacted me to say that he couldn't handle it anymore, he needed me in his life in some way because I'm just so fabulous (which is true). We've been friends ever since.
Back in the day, when I got out of a passionless, robotic, comfortable relationship because of some of the conversations we had, I thought that what we had was love. What we had was different, and I'd never felt that way before. It was both incredible and terrible. Everything was so emotionally-fueled it created some sappy feel-good moments and some major heartbreak. It was a rollercoaster.
It's not like that now. Love, I mean. The more days pass, the more confident I am that even though I'm kind of an l-word slut, the Boy is the only boy I've ever truly loved in a romantic way. No one has ever made me feel the way he makes me feel. He's someone I can tell all of my secrets to, someone who loves me unconditionally but isn't afraid to speak up if he thinks I'm doing something out of character, and someone who supports me in all my crazy endeavours (school, random committees, etc.). He's someone I miss an unbelievable amount when he's gone, partially because of the empty bed and partially because when anything good or bad happens, he's the one I babble on to about it. I'm attracted to him in every way, not just physically but mentally.
My friend told me about his own long-term relationship, and I feel bad for him that he hasn't found what I found. I feel bad that through all the conversations we've had about relationships and love, that he feels like he has to settle. His lady is lovely, but clearly not the lady for him. It reminds me of my own passionless, comfortable ex-relationship. The one he talked me out of, for the sake of my own happiness.
You deserve more, he used to say. I don't know how to get it through his thick skull that he deserves more too.
I'm waiting to hear from my lovely friend Robyn about the status of her uterus. There's a little girl in there just chilling out, taking her sweet time. Fashionably late, already.
Robyn and I were interns together. We got together on the regular for drinks and dish sessions. I feel so honoured to have gotten to share in Robyn's life... the excitement of her engagement, living vicariously through her destination wedding photos and planning, and now seeing her belly -- ridiculously big for her tiny frame. She's going to be such an amazing, amazing mother.
I look back on the first year I was here, and one of those great moments was rounding up a few people to join me in the Canadian Cancer Society's Relay for Life. Robyn and I spent much of the night bundled in blankets walking around the track talking about anything and everything.
There were four of us interns. Two are now engaged to be married, Robyn is all married and mamalicious, and me, I'm going to be a masters student (apparently I do not succumb to peer pressure).
Dear baby, Please come out so your momma can get back to eating and not taking her own blood. Because it's gross. And because there are many people who'd like to see your pretty little face. xoxo
Watching me finish up the ends, he comments on how far it's come.
We've been through a lot together. I say, as I stroke it softly. It kept me awake in the mountains, went with me on trips to Saskatchewan. And bad times too, you know....
Are you sure you wouldn't rather keep it?
It's the prairies, the mountains.... it's important that she has it.
The changes in the tension of the stitches show what I've been through. They show the stress, the hurt, the aching of my first car accident. The parental visit three years in the making. They show the relaxation of the mountains, and road trips, as I stitched through my awe. The ease I felt as I sang along to 80s tunes on the way to Cypress Hills and Saskatoon.
The stitches have suffered and celebrated through the highs and lows of summer across the prairies. They'll provide warmth through the east coast winter. And hopefully, they'll serve as a reminder of the incredible friendship that I've been so blessed to have.
The final Saskatchewan weekend of the summer, for me anyway. We didn't let the rain ruin the fun, as the pictures of the boys' football game show. Baseball while the sun shined, football when it didn't. The only casualties: a flip flop and my poor sprained finger. Which didn't stop my team from winning. Pilsner. Feeling like part of the family. Wishing my camera battery wasn't dead as we traveled the backroads in a parade of motorbikes, ATVs and the littlest tractor. The fresh country air. Being the only ones in aforementioned parade that didn't get doused in mud. The tightness in your face you get from laughing too much. Poker and fresh fruits and veggies from the garden.
Going to the lake makes me homesick a little. Only because I love the quiet of it. I love sitting around the campfire looking up at the stars. I love being away from everything, and everyone (other than the people you're stuck there with). The smell of the air after the rain. Puppies running around everywhere.
That being said, it's good to be back in Edmonton. Back to the busy life, but with a weekend on the horizon filled with city fun. The market. The mall. Drinks on the patio. Most importantly, the baby sister. This weekend will be the last we get to devote completely to each other before she leaves me.
Our vacation this year is short. We're expanding the September long weekend by taking two vacation days so we can frolick through the mountains to the Okanagan and drink some wine.
This morning I nailed down a (very affordable) reservation at a little B&B in Kelowna for two nights which includes a full day wine tour with the proprietor, a wine writer and educator. We had planned on camping, but with the recent fires (and the resulting fire bans) it just didn't work out. So now, we'll be camping in Yoho National Park, hopefully staying with some Edmonton friends in Vernon, and enjoying this adorable little B&B. I was worried a bit, I've never been to a B&B before and it's just so cheap.
This little snippet from the Boy this morning, via email, made all my concerns disappear. It's all coming together. I checked the place out on trip advisor, as Dwight Schrute said Trip Advisor is the lifeblood of the B&B industry. It has four reviews all 4 or 5 out of 5.
The Boy reads my blog (hi honey!) so it's not uncommon to have a conversation that stems from what I've posted during the day.
We were talking about just how many people commented on my request for music post (thank you, thank you, thank you*) when I pulled up my Google Analytics.
"Oh wow, you can get all that info?"
I thought I'd show him one better and pointed out where most of my traffic comes from (his work server) and how people find me. We found some weird search terms.
a part of you has grown in me admiring the struggle it takes to be human boob mail banner girl boys resting on girls boobs photos engineering girl boobs never judge people New Zealand picnic pictures small girl boobs And my favourite... small talk makes me want to cry
I made some comment about how many people seem to be looking for boobs and he comes out with this little gem, "Well, you know, when you search for 'misadventures of elle bee' a porn site comes up."**
*I officially have a girl crush on Jenny Lewis.
**Of the entire page of search results, the porn site is number three. I am the rest of the page. Also, in case you think I've been posting my more scandalous misadventures elsewhere, that site is totally not me. That I know of.
After graduation, and upon getting a "real job", it seems like money is something you have so much of. Finally, you can eat something other than bags upon bags of 99 cent pasta. A vacation! An apartment that doesn't have a bug infestation. Plane tickets. The fun things you've dreamed about as an impoverished student working two (or more) jobs to get through to graduation.
Now, with saving and scrounging up money for the return to school, putting money into RRSPs, and paying off the last couple hundred bucks of my student loan, I'm broke. And constantly stressed out about it. The stress of my big school payment this fall has been looming over me for months. The thought of Christmas is enough to give me nightmares. It's a good thing tickets home have already been purchased for the holidays (way cheaper than waiting closer to the day), but it still doesn't ease my no-money woes.
With the summer we've had full of road trips, wedding stuff, birthdays, prettying up B's house and moving all my stuff in, it seems like there's just no way to save enough money for everything I want. Definitely no more photography classes or wine courses. No shopping, save for the brief reprieve brought on by birthday money.
What do you do to ease the no-money woes? Any tips?
I've always been bad at first dates and meeting new people. My small talk is lacking. The worst possible question to come up during these times is the dreaded "So, what kind of music do you listen to? What's your favourite band?" The times that I mumble "I like everything", because I really, truly do. The times where the recipient also can't narrow down their favourite music because "music is my life!" I'm totally not like that. I used to think that was the case, but it was such a lie. Music is not my life.
If I cared enough to have favourite musical acts, they'd totally be the Beatles, Bon Jovi, Tom Petty, and Journey.
I never know new music. I'm never very particular about what I listen to (some people would argue that's how Whitesnake and all that country fit into my playlist). I enjoy jazz, terrible 80's and 90's tunes, anything that makes me lamely attempt to shake my shoulders (I can not do it for the life of me) and move my feet. Country music makes me happy because it reminds me of home, and of summer. I'll dance around the house to Madonna or Britney. I've gotten into some music through B (Blackfield, Opeth, Porcupine Tree, etc.), but most people don't get the Metal (not that Blackfield and Porcupine Tree are metal). Every football game is a dance party for me.
I used to be good at keeping up on things. I went through so many music phases through university... probably because I was away from the nothing but country! confines of the farm. Cows like country music, what? I went through phases of jungle, drum and bass, classic rock, hipster tunes... and now I'm at a loss.
For my birthday, Kitty replaced my broken iPod with a shiny new green one. As I went through my iTunes, populated by things I like and a lot of crap (so maybe I like some music more than others) that the old roomie downloaded onto my Mac, I realized I need help. I need some music that doesn't suck.
I didn't even fall asleep on the 7-hour trek to Cypress Hills. This is quite the feat, as anytime I'm in a vehicle with the motor running my Pavlovian response is to pass out.
The Boy's parents live in the [inter]provincial park, and it's always a giant nature love fest to go visit. Seriously. Watching the fawn frolicking in the backyard as we were roasting hotdogs had me so enthralled I didn't even think of my camera. We toured the Conglomerate Cliffs, had a picnic lunch at the most delightful little campground, tested out my birthday golf clubs, and hit up the Cypress winery.
It was a long weekend that felt like a week. A much needed rest. It even eased my no-money woes... for now.