It’s Saturday. I’m lazy. Here is a list.

  1. I turned 33 a week ago. I know I probably say this every year, but this feels like legit adult territory. I’m feeling good about it though. I’m where I need to be.
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  2. To all you guys around the world that feel the need to yell FHRITP behind female reporters, what is wrong with you? You are adults. Some of you are even 33. Why are you acting like 6-year-olds hyped up on sugar and the influence of the bad kid that lives down the street? This whole thing is turning into a debate on the ethics of social shaming which is so incredibly beside the point. When you chose to yell immature, stupid sh** at the TV camera, well, you’re making your own bed. Be prepared to lie in it. Didn’t your grandma tell you that?
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    Oh, and guys around the world that feel the need to yell FHRITP, thanks for being regular readers of my blog!
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  3. Literally the moment that I complained about life being boring, my social calendar filled up. Speaking too soon: my greatest skill. And you know, while 30-somethings are pretty good at living the quiet life, when it is time to socially engage, we leave all you 20-somethings in the dust. BBQ’s are better because we (royal we) own our own homes and can therefore do what we want. Birthday’s are better because our champagne and wine budgets are much higher than they used to be. And the celebrations are better because the milestones in your 30’s are just that much huger. At least in my social circle anyways. Homeownership and weddings and engagements and great, big, massive promotions that just didn’t happen 10 years ago. That is worth toasting with the good stuff. (Apologies for the righteousness. I’m just so excited to be leaving my house again.)
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  4. I got engaged. Three weeks ago the best man I’ve ever known got down on one knee in our kitchen and gave me the prettiest ring I’ve ever seen and promised me a lifetime of laughter and love. Obviously I said yes. I’m totally one of those girls too. I’ve had a “Secret Wedding” Pinterest board since long before three weeks ago. And I’ve been quietly putting money aside for the “big day” ever since I knew Kurt was the one I would marry. Love it or hate it, there will be a lot of wedding talk on this blog over the next 10 months.

Happy long weekend!

 

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Another Love Lesson

About a year ago I wrote this post: Some love lessons I’ve learned.

I stand by those 8 lessons, through and through. While some of them really hurt to figure out, it’s a shame that I didn’t learn most of them until I was in my 30’s. But I know them now and I’m a better person for it.

I’d like to add one more love lesson to the list this year: The right partner won’t make you crazy.

**I want to preface what I’m about to say with the fact that I don’t think it is ever okay to call your partner or ex-partner crazy. If you find yourself even thinking these words, especially if it’s about more than one person, you probably need to take a look in the mirror.**

That said, I have definitely been a misbehaving girlfriend in the past. I have forced regular conversations on the state of our union after only a month. I have cried so much more than is appropriate for an almost grown woman to cry, just to get a reaction. I once called an ex 18 times in one hour. In one hour. It was in the early 2000’s, before I understood how caller id worked, but still. I am not proud of how I have acted in the past, to the point that I have questioned, on several occasions, whether I was even capable of a relationship.

And then I met Kurt and things were totally different. I was totally different. If Kurt takes a few hours to text me back, I don’t spend those hours questioning the status of our relationship. I worry that he fell asleep somewhere. If a girl I don’t know writes something that may or may not be flirty on his Facebook timeline, I might ask him about it. Or I might forget to, because it is 100% not important. If he goes out with his friends on a Saturday night, it makes no difference to me if he comes home at 11pm or 5am, because I am sound asleep, anxiety free. And so on.

Being with the right person has taught me so much, about love and life and about myself. I used to think that relationships would turn me into an insecure, needy, anxiety-ridden human and that was just a fact of my life. Turns out, I was just in relationships with the wrong men.  Men who brought those things out in me because, despite our feelings, were not right. For the first time in my entire life, I’m in a relationship that makes me feel calm and safe and confident and secure. And absolutely not crazy.

some articles about love

Happy Valentine’s Day!

This morning I was in Mexico. Now I am home. Feeling too tired/lazy to write something legit. Instead enjoy these links to love themed articles that you may or may not have already read.

36 Questions That Lead to Love This NY Times article on the psychological love study was all over my social media feeds a few weeks ago. If you haven’t read it yet, give it a go. Better yet, try it out with someone you’re hoping to fall in love with! Kurt and I asked each other the 36 questions on a road trip not too long ago. While it was a fun way to kill an hour, it did not make us more in love.

Love is Not Enough I’m a huge Mark Manson fan and here he tells it like it is. The problem with idealizing love is that it causes us to develop unrealistic expectations about what love actually is and what it can do for us. The “Harsh Truths” he talks about should just be “Truths”.

Masters of Love I found this article fascinating, in particular how partners respond to one another’s bids for attention.

How to Pick Your Life Partner #1 and How to Pick your Life Partner #2 Love love love love x 100.

An excerpt from my journal on January 28th, 2013

After work I met Katie at Mount Doug and we hiked. I was so excited for my hot chocolate date with my internet crush, but slowly the nerves started creeping in. Katie came over and watched TV while I made us dark and stormy cocktails (to take the edge off) and dinner. She gave me her opinions on my outfits. We laughed a lot. Then I went to meet him, my internet crush, Kurt, at a coffee shop downtown. He is smart and funny and we have a lot in common. He doesn’t drink coffee, which is weird, but I think I can get past that. Maybe. He certainly does have the gift of the gab though, wow. It went well, I thought, but then I love the initial meeting, getting to know someone. Everyone is interesting in the first 5 hours you spend with them. It’s the time after that that I struggle with. When I got home I wanted to text him to say thanks, to say that I had a nice time, but Katie said don’t. Be cool, she said. I could like this guy. We will see.

Yesterday Sucked

You know how they say that moving  is one of the most stressful things a person can go through? I always assumed that it was because of the literal move because moving is the worst. But yesterday I saw another side of the process that made the moving part seem like a piece of delicious cake. Since December Kurt and I have had our eyes and hearts on a condo. Since December we have been visualising it as our home, imagining the way we would spend our days there and the renovations we would do. We spent almost three months thinking about the life we would start together in that home and yesterday it felt like our home was taken away from us. The home was a foreclosure, which has a bit of a different purchase process, but I was told not to worry. It was our offer the bank accepted weeks ago. And from what we were led to believe, odds were very high that it would be our home as of March 13th. When we walked into the courtroom yesterday morning I couldn’t believe the number of people who had shown up to outbid us. The rest of the morning was just a nauseas and disappointed haze. I don’t even know who got the place. I don’t care, all I know is that it wasn’t us.

While not getting what we thought was surely ours hurts so badly, the fact that we didn’t have a Plan B is some serious salt on the wound. It cuts me especially deep because I always have a Plan B…and a Plan C and D too, just in case. But this time I didn’t. I listened to all the people that assured me that no one else would show up to court. Against the way my brain naturally works, I tried not to see what could go wrong and focus only on the positive and what could go right. Today I am kicking myself for abandoning my realism when there was so much at stake. Our expectations weren’t properly managed and I can only blame myself for not doing the due diligence and research and for being so naive in not realizing this condo was too good to be true. But, shoulda woulda coulda, right?

Today I’m going to help Kurt move his stuff into storage and clean out his condo. He’s going to stay with me for a couple weeks until we figure out what do next. Maybe he’ll rent on his own or we’ll rent together or we’ll continue looking to buy. Honestly I don’t even know. Oh well. Onward and upward I suppose. Time for a new Plan A.

Countdown to the End of Living Alone

On Saturday, January 12, 2013 I was doing my usual Saturday morning thing: listening to CBC, drinking coffee, and reading the internet. I came across this article in the Globe and Mail about the growing trend of living alone. I liked it. I tweeted it. Kurt saw it and we spent an hour DM’ing back and forth on the perks of living solo. We had never met at that point. It was foreshadowing to today.

Tomorrow we find out about a condo–both if and when we get it. If all goes according to plan, we will take possession on March 13th. But it could be later than that and we could not even get it all. Either way, Kurt is moving out of his place and taking up residence in my little basement suite for a currently unknown amount of time.

I’m so excited for this next step, after 13 months I’m ready for it. I want to see him every day, even the busy ones. Especially the busy ones. I want to cook for him all the time. I want to laugh with him when I’m feelign silly and just be next to him when I’m feeling quiet. I’m so excited to be laying down roots with this wonderful man. That said, I am feeling a bit pre-emptively nostalgic for the 5 years I’ve spent living on my own.

I just need to wax poetic for a minute.

I’ve lived alone since March 2009 and I loved it since day one. I love taking up the entire bed and being in charge of all the organising. I love singing off key and dancing extremely poorly and not feeling shame. I love keeping the heat on high and listening to whatever I want whenever I want. I love having the option of not interacting with another human for an entire weekend and acting like a complete sloth in private. I love eating a wheel of brie for dinner and not having anyone pass judgement. I love talking to myself and practising all the things I should have said. There is so much about living alone that I love, but more than any of it I love Kurt and the idea of our life together.

Okay. I’m done now. I could go on, but I’ve got a dinner date with my future room-mate.