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|Wednesday, January 26th, 2005|
|On Liam being 10 months old
I swear that he just gets more fun every day. There is so much, so much that I could say, but lately I've lost words. I just can't find them. That's not to say I haven't looked, but they must be hiding pretty well because my journal sounds like a record on repeat. I just say the same things over and over again.
So Liam is now 10 months old. Still sometimes I find it hard to believe that he's mine. It's funny how now matter how prepared you are to become a mother, there are two things that will surprise you: 1) How much you love your child, and 2) How hard it is to believe that this little person is yours. Yes, we've all heard this. I heard it too before he actually came, but it must be one of those "universal truths" that people keep talking about, because it's absolutely unrefutable. This little guy is so bright, so curious, and so intense. He has the most expressive eyebrows; everything he wants to say he manages to convey with his eyebrows. But he still talks constantly. He's also a lefty.
His father still refuses to acknowledge his existence. I'm not sure whether I should continue trying to contact him or if I should just let it go.
What do you do when you love someone who loves you back, but you just feel like you love them more than they love you? Like it's just a little bit off-balance?
They say that the brightest babies have trouble sleeping because they just can't tune out the things around them, because their curiosities just can't be sated. I have to say, that did bring some comfort to me during those first 10 months in which he refused to sleep through the night. Why is it that, by chance, every other mother or father I met with a baby told me that their infant was sleeping through the night after the first 2 weeks of life, while mine was waking up at least twice a night until he was almost 10 months old? Finally, he goes to sleep: 1) Without a bottle, 2) Without crying, 3) Without being rocked to sleep and 4) Completely on his own in his bed. It's so nice.
It's also funny how he now makes it worth it not to be able to just go out and see more of the world (yet). I'd much rather be his mom than be on my own and traveling the world. Funny how that works. But I would still love to take him to see the world when we are able. He especially needs to see Spain and Holland.
|Monday, May 31st, 2004|
|And now, the joys of real motherhood... in brief.
My son is now 2 and a half months old. He's this amazing, wonderful, gorgeous little creature who is all mine, and the love I have for him is beyond anything I can even describe. The most beautiful sound in the world is the sound of his laughter.
|Monday, February 2nd, 2004|
|The joys of near-motherhood
I never write in this journal. I only logged on to check the date on something I wrote many many moons ago, but I may as well update. So in about a month I will become a mother. Never have I experienced something so exciting. I could sit for hours and just watch my baby move around my belly, and feel his little fingers and toes scrape the inside of my uterus, absolutely the wierdest feeling ever. It's just all so amazing, and quite honestly there's no real way to put it into words, no matter how much I'd like to. I don't think there are words that exist to describe what this whole experience feels like and more importantly what it means. It's like the whole world exists for the purpose of constantly creating new life, and I have this microcosm of that idea growing and developing inside of me. I feel the same way about motherhood in general--I mean, how many things out there can we really say are more important than raising another human being? I just can't wait to show my son the world.
|Monday, September 15th, 2003|
Do all young single mothers in this country have to fall into the "white trash" category? I mean, even us upper-middle class, college educated, white collar, world traveling types make mistakes. So why do I feel like I'm suddenly thrown into the white trash, "I'm 16 and pregnant by my second cousin" group of Americans? Maybe it's because the only other young single mothers I see seem to be in that group (I'm not 16 by the way, not that young, I'll be 24 in less than a month, but still). I don't even really know what else to say actually. I just don't want to be in that category.
And for god's sake, someone please tell me (truthfully of course) that there are good, responsible, handsome, intelligent men out there who will date single mothers, that this hasn't marked me as destined to be single for the rest of my life. I know this isn't "About a Boy," but I can still hold out for a Hugh Grant, right? Especially if I move to England (which one of these days I will, thank god for having made plenty of English friends while living in Spain).
By the way, don't get me wrong, after having gotten over the shock of being pregnant I have reached the point where I am excited about my baby. I've always wanted to be a mother, and even though this is making me one earlier than expected (and under much different circumstances), I am thrilled about the idea of bringing a new life into the world; any pregnant woman who tells you she doesn't have apprehensions, however, is lying through her teeth. It's all just part of the hormonal changes that we go through. That and bigger breasts.
One more thing: any suggestions of names for baby would be appreciated. The whole naming thing is more difficult than you really expect it to be. Please also tell me what you think of the name 'Emmett.' Is it a name that is bound to get a kid made fun of, or are those days over? I know that unusual names are becoming more common these days, so it's safe to assume that lots of kids now have strange names that 20 years ago may have gotten them beaten up.
|Thursday, July 3rd, 2003|
|I just don´t understand.
There must be something wrong with me. Marlowe and his family hate me. Alexis hates me. Probably Pete hates me, but I wouldn´t know. What is it that makes all my exes end up hating me? And above all, why the hell do I care?!!!! I´m so sick of this whole game, I just want to find the right person, the right job, the right place, and get my life sorted out. I want to be completely and utterly and sickeningly happy, because I can´t remember the last time I was. And I want it to be forever this time. I don´t mean a continual state of utter happiness, I know that´s not possible because people die and bad things happen, but I want to be as happy as a person can possibly be with his life. And I want it to last.
|Tuesday, July 1st, 2003|
|Shit shit shit shit
And again, shit shit shit shit. I´ve really done it this time. Slept with my flatmate and regret it. Not because I don´t like the guy, because I do, he´s a nice guy, but because I´ve realized that I don´t want to have casual sex with guys that I wouldn´t want to have a relationship with, and I definitely have no interest in any kind of relationship with Rodrigo. And I felt like shit last night, complete shit. Completely worthless, and I wonder why I do this to myself, why do I make myself feel worthless? I don´t want to be this casual about sex, I want it to be special. I´m tired of it not being special. I´m tired of feeling worthless.
|Monday, June 30th, 2003|
I don't even remember the last time I wrote in this. Must have been awhile. I'm a different person I think, having been changed dramatically by, well, everything in my life changing dramatically. I miss home lately. Not home, because home isn't home anymore, but the people who make up home, my family but also those few good friends who I left behind. I'm a bit of a wanderer now, like half of everyone I've met here in Barcelona. This is home at the moment, but not for long. Barcelona is really a bit of a stop-over for wanderers. Foreign people who live here don't usually live here for too long. There's something truly lovely about it, but it's best left to the Spanish for long-term living. My next stop it seems will be Prague. I hear it's wonderful in Prague, but I plan to avoid the American community there that I've been hearing about. You don't move to a foreign city to hang out with your compatriates. It kind of contradicts the idea of being an expatriate, really. I'm through with relationships for awhile. For one thing, why start any new relationships here if I'm leaving for Prague in 2 months? For another thing, they're too complicated and I don't feel like complicating my life right now any more than it's already been complicated by the unavoidable issues, namely paying the rent and paying for the reissue of my stolen passport. I miss people back home. I miss Toni and our stories about strangers, especially because we could come up with some really, really good ones about the strangers here. The tourists here, more than anywhere else I've been, are excellent food for ridicule. I don't think I miss my relationship with Marlowe. I'm happy that he's branching out, he's too young to be tied down to me anyway. And when it's not right, it's not right. Am I boring you? Sorry. You didn't have to read this far, you could have stopped at any time, really. This can only be even remotely interesting for people who know me personally anyway. All in all, I'm pretty happy. I'm excited about moving to Prague. I'm excited about stopping over for a few weeks in Munich to visit the cousins I've never met. I'm excited about the possibility of mom and dad and baby brother coming to visit in July. I'm excited about finally feeling completely single and finally making a single girl friend to be single with. I'm going now, to live my life today.
|Friday, May 16th, 2003|
And life is never quite what we want it to be, is it? No matter how hard we try to create the world we want to live in, it never works out quite right. But that´s okay I think. Despite the creepy flatmates, ex-boyfriends who don´t want to talk to you and who steal the only photos you have of your family, the people on the metro who spill over into your seat while they´re making out, the terrifying dreams that remind you of things you don´t want reminders of, those horrible flourescent lights on the metro that seem so much worse at midnight than they do at noon, despite loneliness and heartbreak and headaches and sore throats and dazedness, it´s okay. Life is quite alright.
|Saturday, April 19th, 2003|
Fuck Alexis. Fucking asshole seems to think I´ve ruined his life coming here. I don´t know what he´s looking for, but I´m done trying to get through to him. I´m giving up on him. He needs to get his fucking head on straight. And it hurts, because I fell hard and ended up just getting kicked around. And I don´t deserve it. I don´t deserve it.
|Tuesday, April 8th, 2003|
|Back in Philly, but back to Barcelona
Yes, it's true, I've been home for 3 weeks and I'm already going back to Barcelona. Not a hard decision. Well actually, kind of a hard decision. I didn't know if I should go back to Barcelona because Alexis doesn't want a relationship, or if I should have just gone somewhere else, somewhere new. Well if Barcelona turns out to be a bad decision, I'll hightail it to another country. But not back here. Maybe Holland. Well here's what happened. As soon as I got on the plane in Barcelona to return home, I realized that I was making a huge mistake, that I loved Alexis and wanted to be with him, not with Marlowe. I almost turned around in Paris and came back to Barcelona, leaving my luggage and everything on the plane to Philadelphia, but somehow I managed to get on. When I landed in Philadelphia, after the longest 10 hours of my life, I wanted to cry and cry and cry. When I saw Marlowe for the first time, I wanted to cry. I realized that I didn't love him anymore, not the way I used to. It was devastating being back. I felt terrible, because he was so excited to see me but the only thing I could think of was what a mistake I had made coming back. I tried to give us a chance, but I had no desire to be with him physically, I couldn't bring myself to kiss him even, and I just realized that I had to be back in Barcelona, if not to be with Alexis and least to bring a proper end to things with him and move on to a new life. And now I'm more scared than I've ever been about anything in my entire life. Scared that I won't find a job, scared that things won't go well when I see Alexis again, scared that I'll fail. I haven't really been sleeping, barely been eating. This is the biggest and most frightening decision I've ever made. Current Mood: scared
|Wednesday, March 12th, 2003|
|I don´t know why I bother writing, but god though I´m bored.
I want to go out and do something, after all, this is Barcelona, a gorgeous city with gorgeous people. But believe it or not, my motivation to go out is not existent right now. Alexis has been really busy with work lately, limiting our time together greatly, especially since he has been working the night shift and going to school during the day, leaving his time here at home for sleeping. I´ve been thinking alot about Marlowe, and I´ve come to the conclusion that, despite what has happened, I want to be with him, I just miss him, even though I´m with Alexis and have grown very fond of him. I´m coming home on the 18th--and don´t even consider giving me a bad time about it, because I´ve been practically sick over every fucking decision I´ve had to make lately. I don´t sleep, at least not the kind of sleep that a human being needs to keep up their strength and energy. My sleep is riddled with disturbing dreams that lap up my energy by the minute and make me wake just as tired as when I first closed my eyes. I´m not sure why my dreams take up so much energy, but I think it´s because my body is fighting them off. That´s the only possibility I can come up with. Unfortunately I´m cursed with the ability to have extremely vivid dreams that I usually remember upon waking. I used to enjoy this, but not anymore--my dreams, like I said, have been draining my energy. It´s not fair. I went downtown today, but I had something on my mind, so I didn´t enjoy myself. I didn´t want to be alone today. But yet, I felt not quite alone, for a frightening reason. I didn´t want to be alone in the way that I was, but I didn´t want to be with someone in the way I felt that I was. It´s something I don´t want to get into now, so I won´t. Maybe tomorrow, hopefully tomorrow, I will be able to talk about it in the past and laugh about my stupidity. As usual, I can´t quite put into words all that I feel and all that has been happening in my life. Honestly I don´t know why I even try sometimes.
|Wednesday, February 5th, 2003|
|Here in Barcelona
Well, everything is great. Beautiful. Perfect. I´m never going back to the US. Never.
|Monday, January 27th, 2003|
|To my faithful readers...
...whom I can count on one hand:
I leave for Spain on Thursday. I will come back, but only for about a month to get my work visa at the Spanish consulate in NYC and to tie up some loose financial ends. I'm excited, frightened, and nervous.
Meanwhile, back on the ranch--my family, without telling me, moved me out of my bedroom and into the basement. Granted, my father (who was against the idea of kicking his little girl out of her room) and I have found a way to actually make it nice and cozy. It's not the same, obviously, but it's not bad. I'll probably only be home for a short while when I return anyway. My brother has happily taken over my room, and I have to give it to him, it looks nice. Better than it's looked in awhile, admittedly.
But still, let's take a vote: WAS IT OKAY FOR MY FAMILY TO MOVE ME OUT OF MY ROOM WITHOUT TELLING ME? Please, comment.
Next on the agenda: my relationship with Marlowe. We will take time off from the relationship while I'm in Spain. I don't expect him to wait for me if I'm going to be gone for a long time, and I don't expect myself to be able to stay faithful in a very long-distance relationship for such a long time. I'm just being honest (with myself and with him, of course). We will take things one day at a time and see what happens. I don't want to plan anything because, no matter what I do, things won't go as planned. That's just how it works.
Well, maybe I'll write again before leaving, or maybe not. I'll have internet access in Barcelona anyway so it's not like I'm saying goodbye forever. If anybody expresses any interest in me writing while in Barcelona, I'll write while I'm there. It will definitely be more interesting than my life here, in any case. So please, if you think I should keep writing, just post a comment letting me know. I'm not going to go out of my way to write a journal entry in my free time there if nobody is even interested in what I have to say.
But, of course, anybody who wants to e-mail me personally about my experiences abroad can do so--I like getting e-mail, believe it or not: firstname.lastname@example.org. That's my first and middle names (Virginia Mary) and my age at the time I set up the account (22). Don't send nude photos unless you want my completely honest opinion on your body--and I mean brutal honesty, if that's what it takes. Then again, if you're a male between the ages of 18 and 35 and you have a body worth looking at, go right ahead--I won't complain.
|Thursday, January 9th, 2003|
|To quickly revert to an old topic...
...a new guy has just started working in the office where I work. He is maybe in his early 50s, he can't type, he's computer illiterate, he tells really bad jokes, and he's INCREDIBLY CREEPY. Guess what his name is. No, go ahead, guess.... it's BOB.
|Wednesday, January 8th, 2003|
|And now, on a completely different note.....
So today has been an extremely stressful fucking day. No, not a fucking day, a fucking day. Get it straight. No, not straight, straight.
What do you do when you know you want to go away for a long time but you have a boyfriend who you know you need some time away from but you feel guilty about leaving? Especially when you are going away someplace where you will be living with someone who you know you have some special feelings for? God I'm at a difficult point in my life. I don't even know how to handle my own emotions or my own situations. Okay, I can't write any more about this, it's just too hard and frankly I'm kind of tired of sharing my business with so many people who I don't know and who don't really care about my life anyway.
|Woo hoo baby, I'm coming back!!!!
Are you damned?
You're coming back! And if you are a Hindu you are going to have very specific characteristics:
"The slayer of a woman and the destroyer of embryos becomes a savage full of diseases; who commits illicit intercourse, a eunuch; who goes with his teacher’s wife, disease-skinned. The eater of flesh becomes very red; the drinker of intoxicants, one with discolored teeth...." (Garuda Purana)
|Monday, January 6th, 2003|
I'm going to take an excellent idea from "Ketonia" (AwfulTruth) and list the things I did or that happened to me in 2002 that were memorable or at least interesting. I have a terrible memory, so I'm sure I will miss some things, but anyway here I go (and these are in no particular order other than the order in which I think of them). In 2002 I:
*Took an incredible 5-week European vacation.
*Got drunk. A lot.
*Had sex. A lot.
*Smoked pot for the first time. And the second, third, etc.
*Had 2 pregnancy scares.
*Started taking anti-anxiety drugs.
*Met an incredible Spanish guy.
*Fell hard for an incredible Spanish guy.
*Took a road trip to Florida.
*Had my car fixed at least 7 times.
*Met a redneck named Russell.
*Filled my oil tank in shorts in a snowstorm.
*Finally cut ties with my grandmother.
*Realized that I really, really love my boyfriend.
*Realized that sometimes it isn't enough just to love someone.
*Grew even further away from my family.
*Fought often with my boyfriend.
*Applied and was accepted to a TEFL program in Barcelona.
*Added 11 Spaniards to my MSN messenger list.
*Graduated from college.
*Got 2 new piercings and a tatoo.
*Broke 2 expensive Venetian glass watches.
*Climbed many towers in Europe and overcame an extreme fear.
*Attended a friend's wedding.
*Attended the funeral of a friend's 53-year-old father.
*Snuggled with an acquaintance.
*Made the decision to change my life.
Overall, 2002 was a tough year made good by a few if not several positive experiences. Here's to an incredible 2003.
|Sunday, January 5th, 2003|
Save me from my family, please!!!! Save me from my life! Oh god I'm miserable here in my house with my family and it's snowing and oh goooooooood save me.
On a good note, Hector is coming to Barcelona with me. Excellent.
|Tuesday, December 24th, 2002|
I have one thing to say: Merry Christmas, even to those annoyingly unreliable Mexican friends who wait so long to get their plane tickets that they have to come into JFK at 9pm Christmas Eve and not let me know until so late that it's impossible to book a shuttle from there to Philadelphia. And to all a good night.
|Thursday, December 19th, 2002|
I won't really be writing in this anymore because I've lost interest. That's all.