Colposcopy Results

Got a call from the doctor's office today. My colposcopy results came back okay, though they're going to have me come in again in six months. It's a relief, for sure.

Job Interview, Again

Yesterday, I got a phone call from the school where I used to teach. Over the summer I applied for a part time job there as the coordinator of the online writing center. After nearly three months, they called me to set up an interview. Too bad for them that I already have a new job.

I felt just the slightest twinge at the missed opportunity, then I reminded myself that the job was only part time and would have required me to continue adjuncting which would mean a huge workload (the coordinator job, plus three classes to plan, prepare for, and grade papers from) and lots of BS all so I could make about $1,000 a year more than what I'm making at my new job. The writing center job would have made me eligible for benefits, but my new job has better benefits, and when I move I'll have lower living expenses. In short, the new job's still a better financial deal overall. Also, among other things, this job is a change of scenery, both in terms of work and location and I was craving that.

Anyhow, the interview request was good for my ego. Having to turn them down because someone else already snatched me up didn't hurt either.

Long Distance

My job continues, as do the long-ass days that go with it. The good news on that front is that I've pretty much got a place lined up that I think I'll like. It's itty-bitty, but it has a yard and is in the process of being refurbished. The only problem with the new floors, new plumbing, etc. is that it's not quite done yet. So, it'll be a nice little place, but I have to wait a couple more weeks before I can move in, which means the long-ass days continue.

I'm nearing the end of the part where I take all the company trainings as a new staff member/auditor. I've written up a lot of notes and I've started making plans about where I'll start and what I'll do in order to improve the training program. It's cool because I feel like I know what I'm doing and I feel like I can really make things better.

In the mean time, Mr. Curls went off to his new job on Monday. This is the job that's about four hours away from where I'll be living as soon as the itty-bitty house is done. But, on the whole I'm more excited about him having a job than I am disappointed about him going away to have it. I'd rather have a boyfriend far away and employed than one that's ten minutes away with no job, no place to live, and no vehicle to get around in. The long distance thing isn't ideal long term, but it means a longer term than our relationship would have had otherwise as it's September now and we're still together vs. my earlier decision that if nothing had changed by the end of August, I was going to be finished with this relationship.

The timing works out okay, though. I'm so busy with the new job that it provides great distraction from worrying about the future of my relationship with Mr. Curls. What will be will be, and until then, I've got stuff to do.

Colposcopy

Today was the day. I got to the doctor's office, was taken to a room and told to strip down. The doctor who did the procedure was a new doctor who I'd never seen before. He was also a he. So far, all the medical professionals I've ever had look at the lady parts have been women. Nothing makes an uncomfortable vagina procedure better than having it done by a stranger. But, he was nice and professional and the whole thing was done quickly.

At the end, he said, "It'll be a few weeks before we get the lab results back. From what I can tell just by looking, I think we're looking at CIN1 or CIN2 cells."

"What does that mean?"

"CIN1 means we won't do anything yet. A lot of times the body will take of those on its own. CIN2 means you'll come back and I'll do a procedure to remove the abnormal tissue. If it was CIN4, that'd mean cancer."

Again with the waiting. But, at least it's not immediately scary.

First Week at the New Job

Waking up at 5:30 a.m. is rough when you're used to waking up at 8:30 a.m. Driving almost an hour and a half to work and then almost an hour and a half to get home is also rough.

I've been pretty wore out this past week, but it's been a good week. The people have been nice and very welcoming. I think I'm going to like the job, and I may have a new place to live lined up.

It feels like this is what I've been working up to the past few years. It feels good to finally have a grown up job.

Just when I thought this summer couldn't be any more of an emotional roller coaster, I got a call from my doctor. I missed the call last night and got short, and incredibly vague, message, "I need to speak with you about your test, please call me back."

My mind immediately went to worst case scenario mode and I had a hard time sleeping last night because of being stressed out.

This morning, I called the doctor's office. After a little bit of phone tag, I finally spoke with her around noon.

"Your pap smear showed abnormal results, so we're going to do a colposcopy." She explained what that was, and told me her nurse would give me a call to schedule the procedure. It was a pretty short conversation, but left me shaken up. The first thing I thought of was the history of cancer in my family. My dad's dad died from colon cancer. My mom's mom died from breast cancer. Neither was cervical cancer, but...

Now I'm waiting for the nurse to call so I can wait for the procedure then wait for the results after that. This sucks.

Mr. Curls was quick to say, "They're just checking. It doesn't automatically mean something's wrong. Until they say otherwise, don't worry." I really appreciate his support, because this is freaking me out. The worst part, as always, is the waiting.

Denied

Mr. Curls decided to go back to college about one month before the beginning of classes. That meant he had a lot to do in a very short time. He filled out his FAFSA online, completed his application, got a copy of his high school diploma... and didn't check the minimum requirements for the one school he applied to.

Minimum requirement = 2.0 high school GPA

Mr. Curls never planned on going to college, so he spent a lot of time his junior and senior years focusing on work and goofing off. So, his high school GPA = 1.9

Classes start on Monday and Mr. Curls' application was declined. Today he contacted the community college (which has lower minimums) and was told it's just too late.

Oh, for fuck's sake. Now it's going to be spring before he can start taking classes. In this case, the reasons are 100% his fault, no bad luck to blame. First, his crappy GPA from when he screwed around in high school. Second, he didn't pay close enough attention to the application criteria, i.e. the part that says "You must be *this* smart to be a student," nor, if he saw that, did he take proactive steps like talking to someone in admissions about a possible exemption. Third, he applied to only one school. Fourth, he waited this long to decide that a college degree was something he needed.

Too little, too late, and now it's months more before he can get started. Things are not looking good for the continuation of our relationship. Though he was offered a job 3 hours away, they're still processing his paperwork and he doesn't actually have the job yet. The good news is that he found some part time work for the mean time, but it's not enough to be a solution.

His decision to go back to school was encouraging, as is the job offer. But, until he's actually taking (and passing) classes, until he's actually doing the job he's been offered... In light of recent positive developments, I'm willing to give this relationship a little more time, but the sand is running out of the hourglass.

It Ain't Lemonade

Today I peed in a cup. Then I handed it to HR Gal so she could do a drug test. Good times.

I must say, I don't envy her that particular aspect of her job.

Drug test is done. There goes one more step toward the fancy new job. My official first day = next Tuesday, the 24th.

The Job Whirlwind (Part 2)

During the drive home after the 2nd interview, my mind was a wreck. I loved the sound of the job. I liked HR Gal and I liked Boss Guy. It was easy to tell that I was on the same page as both of them in terms of how we like to get things done and how we tend to think. Along with the job comes good benefits and solid job security. Also, however, comes a pay scale well under the amount I considered to be my lowest acceptable range (and that's with me negotiating a pay rate at the top of the range they can offer for the position), even accounting for the area's low cost of living. Oh yes, and taking the job would require moving to a town of 8,000.

All of this kept racing through my head. With this, there was the consideration that taking this job meant not taking any other job. What if I would have gotten a better offer if with a few more applications? What if my $40,000 starting pay is two months away? Or, with this job, after a couple of years, I'd have some really awesome experience to put on my resume. Creating a position from scratch? That's badass.

I got a headache.

In the end, I had to go with my gut. Faced with this offer, what did I want to do?

Friday morning, I called HR Gal and took the job.

The Job Whirlwind (Part 1)

Bright and early Wednesday morning, I woke up, got ready, and drove an hour and a half to get to my 10:00 interview. I was nervous. I was conflicted. Did I really want this job? Was this job really the right move? I kept warring with myself. But, the most important thing was to find out more about the job before I decided one way or the other. So, after an hour and a half drive, I let the receptionist know I was there and in a few minutes I met HR Gal, my potential new boss.

HR Gal was about my age, maybe a year or a couple years older. I immediately liked her and as the interview progressed (with a little hiccup at the beginning due to a fire drill) I realized that this job was right up my alley. The position title is Training Coordinator and it's a new position. So, I'd be relying on my teaching experience and building a whole position and program from scratch. A unique opportunity, to say the least. And it'd look awesome on my resume as I got further in my career. In short, I was sold. At the end of the interview, HR Gal told me that she really liked me for the job and that she would definitely be calling me back for a second interview next week. I told her I was on a time crunch and that I was available to come back as soon as possible for that second interview. That afternoon, she called. Could I come back tomorrow?

Thursday I met with HR Gal and Boss Guy. Boss Guy is pretty straight forward and very focused on doing whatever he has to do to get the results he wants. Among his goals for the organization, he wants to make sure that the organization is the most desirable employer in the area. One thing that means is that he puts a premium on treating his staff well and he's working toward creating excellent professional development. Both are plusses for me, especially since a training coordinator is integral for that second one.

At the end of the interview, Boss Guy asked me to step outside for a few minutes so he and HR Gal could talk. When they brought me back in, I expected them to tell me either that they were interested in me and would let me know their decision after they talked to the other candidates they were bringing in for interviews, or that, ultimately, they didn't think I was quite the right fit.

I came in and sat down.

"So," Boss Guy said, "we've decided to offer you the job."

She's Here!

Last week, my wonderful penpal, Camii, and her new hubby moved. Now, instead of living 5 hours away, she lives 45 minutes away. I'm super pleased :) She moved for school and will be taking classes to get her M.A. in Psychology.

When they arrived, I drove over to help them unpack the UHaul. I must say, I didn't know just two people could have that much stuff. Between the three of us, we spent three hours hauling things from the truck to their second-floor apartment and got them all moved in. There was much talk of, "Screw this, the next time we're hiring movers" and "Wow, we need to get rid of more stuff."

Over the next couple of days, my body told me that all that lifting and climbing stairs was a really good workout. My calves were sore for three days after. I still have two bruises, one on my left bicep and one on my right thigh, from boxes. But, the pay off is well worth it. Now, for the first time in eight years, she and I can meet up for the odd cup of coffee or lunch. I love it :)

The Job, The Job

Maybe you've noticed, but the current job market SUCKS. I've been trying to find a job for months, and my resumes and cover letters keep getting answered with... silence. You'd think I was a leper or something. Not a recent MA graduate with a 3.75 GPA and an assortment of good work experiences. I have a good resume and I've written some rockin' cover letters. *Sigh*

But, I've been staying focused on the idea that if I apply for enough jobs that I'm qualified for, eventually, by virtue of the numbers game, one of those companies will want me.

Last week, Mr. Curls was looking through the newspaper classifieds and pointed out an ad for a training coordinator in a town that's 60 miles away. I wasn't sure if I was really feeling it, but I can't get a job if I don't apply for jobs, so I filled out the application and sent it off via snail mail on Monday afternoon. On Wednesday morning, I got a call from the HR person asking if I could come in for a first interview on the 11th.

Life's funny. The first interview I get and it's for a job I applied for halfheartedly. But, the more I research the organization, the more I like the organization. The more I think about what my job would entail, the more I think it could be a really good fit for me. Right now, my main concern is about moving to a town with only 8,000 people in it. I'm not a big city girl, but that's awful little. Also, the town, as a whole, isn't doing so well economically. Is that really the place I want to uproot to?

On one hand, maybe this is the job I've been waiting for since April. On the other, maybe it'd be a bad move. At this point, the positives and negatives are pretty evenly balanced for me. If they offer me the job, I think, crude as it may be to say it, that the major deciding factor for me will be the pay. I've got some numbers in my head. There's the "nope" salary range, the "maybe" range, and the "oh yes," range. On the job posting, the pay is listed only as "Dependent on Experience," so I have no idea now the numbers they're thinking of will compare to the numbers I'm thinking of.

What I do know is that, all else aside, going through the interview will be good practice. Being called for the interview has been encouraging. Since I got the call for the interview, I've applied for seven other jobs. Sooner or later, something's bound to stick.

Bullet Points

Lots of things have been happening lately.

1. Mr. Curls' trucking job fell through. He had his license suspended briefly a while back when he was unemployed because he was unable to stay current with child support payments. Thus, no trucking job because of the suspension. Yet another aspect of his past that looks bad.

2. Because he ended his lease and put his truck in storage with an auto pawn company in preparation for the trucking job, losing it means Mr. Curls is currently homeless and without transportation (except for my bike that I'm letting him borrow).

3. After months of sending out resumes and applying for any and all jobs I'm qualified for, I finally got a call for an interview. It's a job I think I could enjoy, but it's about sixty miles away and in a town that's quite small - population 8,000. I'm not sure whether or not that's too small for me.

4. In light of everything that's been going on with Mr. Curls, and the general lack of having his life in order that all those things indicate, I made a decision. The decision is that, unless Mr. Curls does something to make a serious change in his life, the end of August is the end of the relationship.

5. Mr. Curls decided that after 15 years of choosing work over education, and with that working out so wonderfully for him, he's decided to go back to school and get his B.A. Today, he submitted his FAFSA and he's qualified for a Pell Grant.

6. On Tuesday, Mr. Curls traveled 160 miles to interview for a job. Today, he got the job offer. We've already talked about him taking the job. He's looking at schools in the area and planning how to do both work and school.

All things together, I think that between the job and the decision to go back to school, Mr. Curls' life is undergoing a pretty serious change. Most important to me is the choice to go to college. I put a premium on education and his decision to get his degree after so many years of being away from school is a great thing. It's also probably the single most important, life-changing decision he's made in the past two years that he's made for reasons other than doing what other people think he should do.

I like it. But, it's only the first step. Now he's got to sort out the move, get enrolled & registered for classes, and actually pass them. There's still a lot of action that needs to follow the decisions, but it's given me faith that this relationship will survive until September and that's a much better prognosis than I would have given last week.

Keep on Trucking

I've not posted in a long time because I've been trying to figure some things out all my own and not much in the mood for making those thoughts public. Now, things have somewhat worked around to an equilibrium again.

Quick sum-uption: Mr. Curls lost his job in May and has been working hard to find another one since. Thanks to the tough economy, he's mostly had no luck. The situation has made me question our relationship - not because I'm enamored with money for its own sake, but because having some financial stability is way important to me and this is yet another hiccup in his employment history. Now, the last-ditch job option is taking a job with a trucking company. Yep, that's right, Mr. Curls is about to become a trucker. It's oh-so-glamorous, but the $ is serious enough that it'd be a big step for him to get some stability and save up enough within a year to do things like hire a lawyer to deal with his ex(es) situation and get that sorted out. Also, it would give him enough capital that he could quit the trucking job and use his savings to begin what he truly wants to do by going into business for himself.

We've talked about it a lot and talked about what it would/could mean for him and for us and while I can't predict exactly how it'll go, especially since the work schedule would limit his days off to about 3-4 a month, we're going to do our best to keep our relationship strong.

In the past couple of weeks, with everything else that's been going on, some of the tension in each of us has eased and my re-thinking of the relationship has come down on the side of understanding and wanting to do my best to make this work. Amanda, not surprisingly, expresses her doubts. My pen-pal expresses hope. They're both right.

I don't know how it's all going to work out. I have to make a decision based on what I do know. When I'm with him, I feel happy and loved and like I don't want to be with anyone else. In light of everything he's going through right now, I know that he's got few choices and that if I were in his same position, I would probably make the same choices he has. I know that our relationship may not last through him being so far away so much. I know that I want to try.

One way or another, things are going to work out. I don't know how, exactly, and that may very well mean that things work out by me and him going our separate ways. But, we'll take it one little bit at a time and see where we end up.

Losing My Phone Sex Virginity

Last night, Mr. Curls called me after the boys were asleep.

"Hey sweetie," he said. "What have you been up to?"

I paused for a minute before I answered, because there was one thing in particular that I'd been up to not long before he called. "Oh a little of this, a little of that," I said. "Um, you know how you told me earlier that you wished I was there this morning?"

(During an earlier phone call, Mr. Curls had left the apartment for a couple of minutes to tell me he'd woken up with a bit of morning wood which had made him think about me, which hadn't helped the situation. Since the boys were already up and about, he hadn't felt right about taking matters into his own hands, even behind his locked bedroom door.)

"Uh huh," he said.

"Well, a little while ago, I was thinking about that, and I was in the kind of mood where it would have been really nice if you'd been here and naked. But, as it was, I had to take matters into my own hands."

"Oh really?" From the sound of his voice, I could tell he was smiling. "Why don't you tell me about that?"

From there, the conversation led to an interest I'd expressed in watching Mr. Curls jerk himself off. It's something I'd like to see, but something he's been too bashful so far to try. I decided he might feel less weird about it if he knew why I wanted to see it, and I told him there were a couple of parts to it. One: seeing him pleasure himself might show me a new thing to try the next time I was the one touching him. Two: there's a bit of a voyeuristic appeal there and since I don't have a penis, most of the ejaculations I've been around tend to happen inside me, so I can't really see what's going on. So, there's a definite curiosity motivation there.

After a while, as we continued to talk about sex, he said, "I really wish you were here right now. This conversation has gotten me in a certain frame of mind..."

"Are you in your room?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you on your bed?"

"Yeah."

"Are you hard?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm..." Since we had recently been talking about my interest in him masturbating, I mentioned there was a way to try it out a bit, maybe get him comfortable with the idea.

"Hmm..." he said. "I've never done that before."

"Neither have I." I was nervous about it. I wasn't sure what to say, or what to do. All I knew is that it seemed like the phone call was headed in that direction, and who am I to say "no" to a little experimentation?

"Am I going to be on my own here?" Mr. Curls asked. "Because, I think it'd be more fun if you were touching yourself too."

"I already am."

"Good."

It was an interesting experience to fly solo without exactly being solo. I got to practice being descriptive and using my imagination. Having his voice in my ear while I masturbated was pretty hot. I remained just a bit self conscious throughout, but in the good way that added a little bit of a thrill to it. There's something about phone sex that's just a little taboo to me, I'm not sure why, so it made me feel a little naughty.

This morning, I can't hardly even look at my phone without blushing.

Summer With the Boys

Last Tuesday Mr. Curls' first ex called. The original plan was that Mr. Curls would take the boys Friday for them to spend the summer with him (save for alternating weekends when they'd be back with their mom). Instead, she asked him if he'd like to get them early, like, in an hour and a half.

Mr. Curls agreed, did a mad dash to get ready, and his ex brought the boys up early. It was a bit of a wrinkle in his plans, and since he'd just gotten a water bed that hadn't been... tried out yet, it was a bit of a wrinkle in mine. However, Mr. Curls doesn't get to spend as much time with the boys as he'd like to, and I like them, too, so no complaints.

This past week I've been playing games with the boys and I even found a set of poker chips on clearance for them, they're big fans of Texas Hold 'em. Also, we managed to try out the water bed after all by practicing covert, post-boys-asleep, shenanigans. Dunno how much I like the water bed for certain things, though the novelty is certainly fun.

The Big L

The other night, Mr. Curls and I were lying in bed all cuddled up and snug. I had my head on his shoulder and I was thinking it'd be so easy to say it. It's just words. They don't need to be hard.

"You're quiet," Mr. Curls said.

"So are you."

"Yeah... I was thinking about a conversation we had a while back. One where we went in circles for a little while..."

"Mmm... that one," I said, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I was thinking about that too." I winked at him. "Jinx."

He gave me a kiss. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about saying the words out loud. I was wondering what they'd sound like."

There was a pause where neither of us said anything, both of us trying to be brave enough to go for it. I took a breath and reached up to cover his eyes. Mr. Curls laughed, "Shouldn't you be covering your own eyes, you know, execution style?"

"Hush," I said, burying my face in his chest. I was trying to get the courage to say the words out loud, and maybe I had enough to say them, but I didn't think I was brave enough to say them and look him in the eye at the same time. I took another deep breath and whispered, "I love you."

Mr. Curls hugged me tight. "I love you," he said. I hugged him back, as tight as I could manage, not wanting to let go. Leap of faith, my friends. Leap of faith.

Mr. Curls' Dad

This past week Mr. Curls' grandfather passed away. His grandfather's health had been in decline for a while and the death didn't come as a great surprise. However, even expected deaths are difficult. The one lighter side of it is that Mr. Curls' father came to town for the memorial service and to help take care of what needed taking care of.

I didn't go to the memorial, but I did meet Mr. Curls' dad the next day. We went to a diner to get some space from the rest of the family and ate pie while we chatted. It was funny to me to see the similarity in some of their mannerisms and ways of speaking. I definitely see the resemblance ;) I enjoyed it and knew I was okay in Mr. Dad's book when he told me, "It was wonderful to meet you. You are the best thing that's happened to my son in a very long time."

Photo Field Trip

Today, I spent the morning getting caught up from spending two weeks out of town and I spent the afternoon with Mr. Curls. Now that I've had a couple of days to decompress from traveling, I was in a much better mood and we had a really lovely afternoon together.

A big part of our adventures today included driving all around town and out of it, doing some hunting for things for me to take pictures of for my photography club. I'm still getting the hang of my new camera and I've been less than thrilled with how it takes pictures in low light. I'm sure I can adjust the settings to make them come out better, but I haven't quite figured it out yet. It's a shame, too, I really like the elements and composition of this photo, but I'm not ecstatic about the photo quality.

On the bright side, I quite like the spot Mr. Curls took me to get the photo. We'll have to go back.

What's the Point of a Relationship? More Importantly, What's the Point of This One?

Gosh, the past few posts have primarily been all about bashing Mr. Curls. It's enough to make one wonder why I haven't drop-kicked him out the door already. I mean, heck, it almost seems like I don't even like him at all. It's not that I don't like him, it's just that I'm worried. The worry has made me do a lot of thinking about my relationship priorities. Lately, between seeing my friend get hitched, traveling both with and without him, and talking to different people who're in relationships, I've spent a lot of time thinking about the nature of relationships. I mean, seriously, why are people in them?

Aside from a regular sex partner and somebody to hang out with, what's the point of romantic relationships? The hardest part is that there's no one set answer. I feel like a kid who's stumped on a quiz question and frustrated because each of the multiple choice answers feels like it could be right, but I have to pick which one's the best answer. I feel cheated like someone who's asked a riddle then denied the answer. The worst part is knowing that, ultimately, no one has it. Knowing that everyone's got to figure it out for themselves.

So, I've been trying to figure out what the point of me being in a romantic relationship is. What the heck do I want to be in a relationship for? I support myself, so it's not that I'm looking for a sugar daddy. I have a wonderful group of lovely friends, so it's not that I'm just lonely. I'm a stubbornly independent person, so I don't need some other person to define who I am. I've got vibrators, so I can manage plenty of orgasms without help. I have a dog, so it's not like I'm just looking for someone to make me feel safe or wanted.

It's easy to figure out reasons why a relationship might be more trouble than it's worth. It's harder to figure out reasons why one would be worthwhile.

1. I want someone to hold me
2. I want that someone to be the same someone who understands who I am
3. I want to be someone's favorite someone
4. I want to have a person in my life who chooses to become my family
5. I want laughter. Lots of laughter
6. I want to have someone in my life whose hug can make a crappy day brighten
7. I want someone to cheer me on
8. I want inside jokes that only the two of us laugh at
9. I want to know someone's got my back
10. I want someone who, by being in my life, makes my life better
11. I want to have someone I know I can trust
12. I want to feel like having this person pick me over all others means I'm amazing and special
13. I want love
14. I want loyalty
15. I want a certain kind of fierceness
16. I want the sound of a heartbeat beneath my cheek
17. I want to be amazed at how this person was a stranger once because I can never imagine my life without knowing them
18. I want a little bit of silliness
19. I want chilly days snuggled up under blankets watching the rain fall on the other side of the window
20. I want to go somewhere and be able to point at things, saying, "Wow, how cool is that?" and know that the person I'm talking to will think it's cool too

These things that I want are all so many things that are about how I want to feel and how I want to be treated. These are things I have with Mr. Curls. Yes, his life is totally messy right now. Yes, that stresses me out. But, in the end, I think taking the time to give him time to sort at least a chunk of that mess out before I walk out the door is worth it. I know I'm asking for trouble if I try and build a life with a guy who's just going to crash and burn again, but maybe he just needs some time to go in a new direction. I worry about the mess, but look at all I stand to gain. Isn't that worth a little bit of time?

The Wedding, The Ambivalence, The Problem, and Time

A day after I got home from Florida, Mr. Curls and I were on the road to my penpal's wedding. A six-hour drive later, we arrived in my penpal's city and met up with her for dinner. Friday, she and I spent the afternoon together running some pre-wedding errands.

Saturday morning started out rough. I woke up feeling ill - delayed altitude sickness it turned out. Mr. Curls was real sweet about making a couple of runs, first for a bit of medicine for my nausea, second for a light breakfast. Still, I felt pretty bad the whole morning and most of the rest of the day. Awesome, lemme tell ya.

By wedding time, I was mostly okay again, but my mood was less than stellar. Add to that the excitement of a wedding and the emotions entailed, plus being at the wedding of one of my best friends with a date who's exchanged those same vows twice already, and, well... I was stressed. The wedding itself = beautiful and sweet. Going with Mr. Curls = "What am I doing?!"

He's so sweet to me and all kinds of nice things, but he's got so much drama in his life. I had a crisis. Here I was, watching my friend marry a guy she's crazy about and all I could think was how I couldn't picture myself tying my life to Mr. Curls' life that way. All I could think was, "This guy has too much mess. How could I ever marry him?" That thought quickly ushered in the follow up thought of, "Then what am I doing with him?"

I was tired, I felt sick, and my emotions were all akimbo. I was cranky during the drive home, despite my best intentions not to take out my stress on Mr. Curls, because I knew that a lot of what I was feeling about him had more to do with everything else going on than it had to do just with him. I apologized about the crankiness and was surprised when he understood where it was coming from - not every detail, but understanding that all the travel and close quarters had taken their toll. He wasn't excited about my bad mood, but he got why I was in it and let things be quiet for a time while I pulled myself out of it. The way he reacted was an unexpected relief and it reminded me that there are good reasons why I like him.

Today, I talked with Amanda. I told her about my worries about Mr. Curls. I told her that during the wedding I thought, "What am I doing with this guy?"

Amanda replied, "Oh, that just means you're going to break up with him. It's okay though. He was a good experience for you."

Then, of course, Mr. Curls tells me he's officially quit smoking. His last cigarette was five days ago and he's determined to stay off the cancer sticks. Then, today, he got fired (long story short, his boss is a dick who fired him for taking Thursday off, aka the day Mr. Curls requested off a month ago, got approval for, and then got told the paperwork was "lost" and that he had to work on his approved day off). Today, Mr. Curls came over and even though he was embarrassed to admit that he needed help, asked for my help on overhauling his resume. Then, even more significantly, when I told him we needed to redo his resume from scratch (the one he had was an unfocused, 5-page mess) he just nodded and said, "Okay, where do I start?" It wasn't easy for him and he was very uncomfortable being that vulnerable, but he did it because he knew he needed to do it. I tore his resume apart, helped him put it back together again, and he said, "Thank you" and meant it.

On one hand, I've come to the stark realization that Mr. Curls is something of a train wreck. He's well-intentioned and passionate and sweet, but his life, in short, is not in order. I'm not looking for a millionaire, but it is important to me that my Mr. Right has a fairly good grip on his life. Let's face it, right now, Mr. Curls doesn't. But, with a couple of things that have happened the past few days, maybe he's started to head in the right direction?

Today, I got to see Mr. Curls' work history. It's, well, spotty. A few months here, a year there, eighteen months at that other place. He says he knows it makes him look like a flake. He knows that's not a great thing, neither for an employer nor for me to see. He explains, he justifies, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, sure, the last few years could just be a run of bad luck. Fine. The thing is, I'm getting worn out with some of his talk. He over-explains. He complicates. He preemptively defends the things he's embarrassed about. All this chatter does him more harm than good and I'm just waiting and watching, tuning out the jabber and focusing on the action.

Between bad choices and bad luck, Mr. Curls has had a bad run. Whatever. There's a lot I can forgive about the past. It's the present, the future, that I'm most interested in. I'm conflicted in figuring out the present. On one hand, he's done some things lately that I'd classify as problematic. On the other, he's done some things lately that have been very positive. I just can't figure out which is more weighted.

I think I have to give this more time. I need to see if/how much he's learned from past mistakes and the only way to really do that is to see if/how he repeats them. Some time in the not-too-distant future, I foresee a talk regarding my concerns. The time is not now. I want to see how he handles the situation he's in now and see what that tells me.

All I know for sure is that, unless Mr. Curls gets some things in his life under control, I'm not optimistic about this relationship's lifespan.

Culture Clash

Of late, I've been a bit conflicted about Mr. Curls. On one hand, he's got a lot of emotional qualities that I really like. On the other, well, it can pretty much be summed up with a recent conversation I had with my brother where I was talking about Mr. Curls' culinary skills. I described a dish he'd made (chicken over rice, topped with cream of mushroom soup) and how he'd been so proud about coming up with the recipe. When I mentioned that the recipe was on the side of the soup can, he responded, "Yeah, but I didn't look at the recipe that first time. I came up with it independently." He was very proud of himself. I was, to be honest, underwhelmed.

I told my brother, "The sad thing is, he thinks he's such a great cook and the truth is, he's not especially great. Yeah, he can cook, but Gordon Ramsay he is not. Except, that's not how he sees it."

One of Mr. Curls' qualities that worries me is an over estimation of certain abilities or accomplishments which, frankly, I'm not impressed by. I know that sounds harsh, which isn't how I mean it. It's more about him and I coming from very different backgrounds.

Mr. Curls' background = parents who got pregnant in high school to force their parents to allow them to be together. Mr. Curls' dad was a dad at 17, his mom never graduated high school, and his mom became a Jehovah's Witness when he was a kid. Growing up, Mr. Curls was told that, basically, college was out of his league, so between that mentality and getting married at 19 because he was about to be a dad, he never went.

My background = parents who dated for a couple of years, dated long distance, and the first time my dad proposed, saying, "and when you're my wife, you'll never work" (meaning it in a nice way), my mom turned him down because it was important to her to have her own career. My parents had me when my mom was 29 and my dad was 32. When I was a kid, my mom went to college and got her bachelor's degree while working and raising two kids. Growing up, college was always talked about in terms of "when" I would go to college, never if.

The bottom line is that even though Mr. Curls and I grew up in the same city, in a lot of ways, we come from different worlds. Things which, to me, are not newsworthy, are a big deal to him. On some things, I feel like we're just not on the same level. I know that sounds critical and snobbish, but I don't know how else to say it. One thing I keep coming back to is what a difference a college education can make. Having that BA or MA or PhD isn't the be all end all, not by a long shot, but there are certain ways of thinking that college teaches you.

In my composition classes, when I'm talking with my students about the ways the media influences us, when I'm talking about analyzing biases present in movies, newspaper articles, etc., their first reaction is often that I'm "over analyzing" it. A cigar is just a cigar, right? And yes, sometimes, it is. But, sometimes it's not. By the end of the class, at least a few students have had light bulb moments. For instance, sometimes they say, "Oh! Now I get why that commercial is using Jennifer Lopez as a spokesperson, it's 'cause she's scantily clad and the commercial is aimed at men!" Right? Right.

Mr. Curls has told me how, because he's had business experience and because he's so worldly, he can watch a commercial and immediately figure out who it's aimed at. He's impressed friends and family with this skill. He thinks it's cool that I get it, too. I think it's cool that he's figured it out on his own. But, the difficulty comes from the fact that his background, most of his social circle, is not on that level. So, he ends up feeling like big stuff 'cause he knows something they don't. Except, that in my perspective, that puts him on the level with an 18 year-old college freshmen. In his mind, he's on the top of the food chain. In my mind, he's just getting started.

Case in point, the showcase he was so gung-ho about. He was excited because the process was somewhat selective and because he felt like they just weren't picking everyone. Also, apparently, the $800 fee was low compared to other showcases he's heard about. At first glance, it seems promising. But that's skipping a couple of important analytical steps. One thing I always talk to my students about in terms of the motivations of political organizations, for instance, is "where does the money go?" With the showcase, it's put on by the scouting agency, which means the scouting agency is getting the money. Therefore, it's in their best interest to find a large number of people to attend it. They get the registration fee. That's how they get their money, not based on the number of people who actually get agents. So, there's one gigantic, flashing red light. Also, he talked about how he could get discovered, but that skips another important question - why would this be his chance? Yes, he'd be in front of agents, fine. But another important question comes up - if this is an effective way of finding an agent, then who are the actors who've been successful this way? What big names has this particular scouting agency found? What's their track record?

Mr. Curls was excited about the showcase because he felt like he'd thought about the situation critically. I'd say he thought about it more critically than many might, but not critically enough. He was so focused on "well, I asked this question that most people wouldn't, that means I know what I'm doing," that he missed the other, even more important questions.

Another thing I was talking with my brother about was Mr. Curls' far-sightedness. He has this tendency to focus so much on where he wants to be that he overlooks where he is. He has a plan to do real estate work. According to the plan, in 16 months, he's doing real estate. That's fine. But, what about next month? When he hurt his back, he was frustrated because it threw a wrench into his finances and he didn't have enough to go to the showcase (blessing in disguise, right?). His refrain, "but, if I hadn't hurt my back, it would've been fine." The thing is, unexpected things are, by nature, unexpected. I made a comment once about a job I applied for and how, if I got it, I'd spend a couple years living well below my means (i.e. my lifestyle wouldn't really change) because I'd be so focused on clearing away my student loans and building up a big savings buffer. He said, "Well, it's important not to live above your means, but why not live within them?" Well, because of things like back injuries or layoffs or whatever might come up that I can't anticipate.

His culture = you're doing really well if you can pay your bills every month.
My culture = you're doing well if you've got your own home, your car paid off, and a good sized retirement fund.

His culture = "You're marrying a gal you met four months ago? Cool, she seems nice."
My culture = "You're marrying a guy you met four months ago? Are you crazy?"

A lot of the time, the clash isn't so clear. Sometimes, though, it's blindingly so. This past week I've been in Florida, visiting my brother. It's the most time I've spent away from Mr. Curls since we met. I've been away from him, and spending a whole lot of time with my brother, who's an Air Force Lieutenant undergoing pilot training. Mr. Curls works for a trash company. I'm not saying a job or a college degree is the be all end all, but it does shape your world view. Being around my brother so much this week has emphasized how different my world is from Mr. Curls' world.

How much difference is too much difference? How much do Mr. Curls and I truly have in common? Is it enough? How much of my concerns are genuine? How much of my concerns are more about just adjusting to another person's perspective? My brother and I see eye-to-eye on so many things, but we were raised together, our nature and nurture are both the same and we've known each other twenty three years. Of course I'm on the same page with him. Mr. Curls is a whole other person, from a whole different background. Of course we're not going to be the same on everything. But, what is okay to be different on? Where does difference become conflict? I know part of my anxiousness just comes from being in a relationship with someone. I know part of my worry comes from being in a relationship with this particular someone. What I don't know is how the percentages work out - is it more about being intimidated by being close to someone, or is it more that we're too different for this to work? I'm so confused.

Pina Colada Brain Freeze

On Monday, I turned in final grades for the semester. Tuesday I hopped on a plane and flew to Florida to visit my brother. Right now, while he's off doing pilot training, I'm sitting on the lovely screened in porch drinking a pina colada. Today, is a good day. I've got warm summer air, plenty of TV to watch on my laptop, and a whole lot of nothing in particular to do.

I'm having a lovely slacker vacation.

Thank the Lord

The day after Mr. Curls contemplated selling his Jeep for the cash to go to a talent showcase, I got a call from him in the morning after he'd finished his physical therapy appointment. Among other things, we talked a little about the showcase.

"I've been thinking about it a lot," he said. I cringed and held my breath, anxiously waiting. "All things considered, I've decided not to go. It's just not financially sound for me right now."

Thank George it was over the phone, because I was practically doing my happy dance. All I said was, "I think you made a good call." What I was thinking was, "Hallelujah! There's hope for him yet!"

I'm super relieved that he decided to walk away from the showcase. I never had a good feeling about it and I very much believe he just cannot afford it. But, on the other hand, I'm not his mom and it's not my place to boss him around. I'm a part of his life, yes, but I'm not a part of his bank account. If things keep on going like they have and we get to the point where it's less about his finances versus my finances and more about our finances, then I'll certainly be more assertive. But, for now, that's not the case and he has to make his own decisions.

The fact that he made the "right" decision in this case is extremely reassuring. He may be a bit problematic in the judgment area, but he's not a total lost cause.

What Worries Me, Part Two

Last night, he talked to me about it because he was trying to figure out what to do and wanted to talk it through. I reiterated what I'd said last week about the talent showcase - a long shot at best, and not something I put a lot of faith in. But, he really wants to do it because showbiz is his dream and he's all idealistic and naive about what, exactly, that would mean. I could tell him it's hard, even with an agent, but he'd tell me he's done hard things before. He ran his own company for a while, even though everybody in the whole world (almost) told him it'd never work. I'm nice enough to point out that if that business had really, really worked, he'd still be doing it. Right? So, instead, I talked to him about my friend's wedding.

One of my most awesome friends is getting married in May and I'd invited Mr. Curls to come with me. The wedding is far enough away that we're looking at some travel expenses and a few nights' stay somewhere. It's not super expensive, but it works out to a couple hundred dollars we'd each be pitching in. I told him that since he was in a money crunch, it might be a good idea for me to go on the trip alone, like I'd been planning to since before he and I met. I've known this trip was coming for a long time and I have money saved for it. Also, if I go alone, it'll actually work out to be cheaper for me.

His response was, "I can't do that. I already promised I'd go. I hate to break commitments." Which leads us to the other part of the problem where he spreads himself too thinly and then has to scramble to make it all work. Like, with the boys. I'm way fond of the boys, so I absolutely don't mean anything bad about them with this next part. When the boys visit, Mr. Curls tends to overspend on them. When they want to go out for pizza, Mr. Curls takes them out for pizza. When they want to go to a movie, Mr. Curls takes them to a movie. It's pretty basic stuff, really, but it adds up. The first time I met the boys, we all played mini golf - there went $50 bucks for about an hour and half of entertainment. Mr. Curls wants to make sure the boys have fun. He wants to spend quality time with them. It's not that he's trying to buy their affection, truly, it's just that he has a hard time saying "no." The problem is, he's too broke for that to work.

When my brother and I were kids, my parents said "no" to us all the time. Not because they were mean, but because they were broke. Going out to a movie in the theater was an indulgence, going out to eat at a restaurant (even a fast food restaurant) was a rare occurrence. My parents simply could not afford it. My childhood, instead, was filled with things like board games, picnics, and lots of time goofing around outdoors. I was not a deprived child, and my parents put a premium on spending quality time with my brother and I. We were happy kids even though our parents didn't spend a whole lot of cash entertaining us.

And, I absolutely believe that the boys would be perfectly happy if Mr. Curls threw less money at them. He's their dad. They love him because they love him. Yeah, they might whine a bit about not going to Subway for lunch, but if it comes down to the difference between Mr. Curls paying his bills or taking the boys to Subway, it's pretty straight-forward math. But, he doesn't see it that way. He sees it as a question of "doing right by them" and of being a selfless parent. While I don't disagree with his motivations, I think he lacks balance in how he fulfills those expectations. I mean, heck, the other night when I brought over some games, the boys were totally into it. Playing Jenga is a whole lot cheaper than black light golf at the mall.

Now, my worry about the money situation comes from my own experience. Ever since I moved out on my own, my financial situation has been characterized by a lack of money. Being a student isn't cheap. Long story short, I get by on very little. Long story short, I know how to get by on very little. So, when I have concerns about his money situation, I'm not just talking out my ass or being judgmental. It's all based on the principle of I've been there and I know what it takes. I'm just not sure he does. He's got his eye fixed on where he wants to be, and I fear he's overlooking where he is.

With all of this together, I have some doubts about Mr. Curls' judgment. I fear he's too idealistic. Too much of a dreamer and not enough of a realist. He's going through a rough patch in his life right now, and while some of that is due to circumstances beyond his control, much of it is due to bad choices he made. The part that scares me is not knowing how much of this is just because of a few specific mistakes and how much of it is because he's got a pattern of getting ahead of himself and making bad calls.

A part of me really cares for him and seriously considers the idea of further entwining my life with his. A part of me is terrified that doing so would be a horrible mistake. I keep telling myself not to panic, that time will tell and I just have to be a little patient to see if this pattern I'm worried about really is present and, if so, how much Mr. Curls is willing/able to break it.

What Worries Me, Part One

Mr. Curls has a lot of good qualities. He's kind, he's honest, he's considerate of others, he makes me laugh, he's loyal... All of them are things that are important to me in a partner. Plus, I adore the curly hair, of course.

The thing is, while in a lot of ways he's had to mature quickly because of the proverbial school of hard knocks, in some ways he's still painfully naive. The more I learn about certain things, the more I doubt his judgment in certain areas.

For starters, we've got ex #2 and the part where he thought it was a perfectly good idea to marry someone he'd only known for five months. Then he defends the decision by saying she "seemed" like the right gal. Even overlooking the obvious red flags that popped up, like she was 20, living with (i.e. mooching off) her grandmother, a single mom who wasn't motivated to hold a job, and had never supported herself independently... getting married to someone you've only known for five months is a bad idea. We're talking about making a the-rest-of-your-life kind of commitment to someone before celebrating both of your birthdays (or Christmas, or whatever) with them. If you can't make it a year, how can you expect to make it the rest of your lives?

But, whatever, I figure everyone's allowed at least one big fuck up in their lives, right? What worries me most is two things:
1. His reluctance/inability to say "no" to people, even when he really should (see previous example).
2. Some of his habits, i.e. money management, are not as mature as he thinks they are.

The two kind of tie together, too. He tends to overrate his ability to take care of things, especially when it comes down to the difference between telling someone else no or making a sacrifice to tell them yes. Lemme give you the short version.

The past couple of years have been bad years for Mr. Curls. There was a divorce, a re-marriage, the break down of that marriage, and a bankruptcy in that time. It all added up to result in Mr. Curls currently working for a trash company and living on a shoestring budget. He's got a plan to get started in real estate (and since he's worked as an appraiser, I'm not as wary of this plan as I might be otherwise) which, among other things, will require a start up fund. The plan is to get started on this within 16 months. Me, hearing that, I assume he'd be working on building up a savings to go toward that start up. Um, as it turns out, not so much. He told me he might sell his Jeep to get the money (he'd still have the truck he inherited from his grandpa).

Last week, there was a "casting call" in town. One of Mr. Curls' dreams is acting, and he was jazzed to go. He was even more jazzed afterward 'cause he got picked to go to a showcase in June. Here's the part that makes me wary - my city isn't exactly Hollywood and out of thirty people who turned up, the scouting company picked ten. That's one third, not exactly super competitive. Also, it's a scouting agency, not an agent agency. They run a showcase in Saint Louis with an $800 registration fee. At this showcase, agents show up, look at the people who've been scouted, and decide if they want to work with them. This means paying $800, plus travel expenses, to have an agent decide whether or not they want to represent you. Then, if they do, it's a question of whether or not that agent can get you work. In this whole equation, I see a handful of red flags, but the bottom line is that it's a significant chunk of change and no guarantee.

Mr. Curls really wants to go, and I mean REALLY. He sees it as his break. The scout said nice things about him, and there are certainly nice things to be said about Mr. Curls. He's also thinking of a time a few years ago when he auditioned for a spot on a Sci-Fi Channel show and got a couple of call backs, "I was their fourth choice or so for the role, and that's something." He's all optimistic and thinking this could be his big chance and even if it doesn't work out, which at least he admits is a possibility, he's got the real estate plan to fall back on. Maybe I'm just a pessimist, but I think he's being naive. Yes, maybe this could be his moment, but I think that maybe is a pretty far shot. Meanwhile, he just spent a week not working because of his back injury and even though he's partly back this week, he's not back at his usual hours, i.e. little paycheck action going on right now.

Last night, he said, "I need to come up with $500 dollars in the next seven days to pay bills and put a deposit on the showcase." The deposit for the showcase is $300, which leaves him with $500 more to come up with before June. He talked about selling the Jeep this week to get the cash. That tells me he doesn't have anything in savings and he's willing to sell the Jeep quickly, i.e. cheaply, just to have the cash for a long-shot chance at showbiz.

But wait, there's more...

An Unexpected Ally

Yesterday, Mr. Curls got a call from ex #2's new boyfriend. Mr. Curls has a couple of things the ex wants, and the boyfriend called to arrange a time so he could pick them up. The ex, it seems, was busy (shocker!).

The conversation went kind of like this:

Boyfriend: So, can I come by and pick those things up?
Mr. Curls: Sure. I'll trade you.
Boyfriend: Huh?
Mr. Curls: Well, when you come to pick up the stuff, I'm going to ask that you take divorce papers with you.
Boyfriend: What? I thought that was all underway already.
Mr. Curls: Believe me, I'd very much like it to be.
Boyfriend: Yeah, me too. I'll make sure it gets done.

Mr. Curls met his ex's new fella yesterday and he says the guy's pretty decent. He said, "I wanted to tell him to run for the hills and save himself, but I'll wait until after the paperwork's signed."

I'm so pleased the boyfriend is intent on getting the divorce going. He's the most likely person to get the ex to cooperate, and now I'm just hoping that she's keen enough on making him happy to finalize the divorce for his sake. It's nice that he and Mr. Curls see eye-to-eye on the issue and that he seems like he's going to help minimize the drama, rather than increase it. I haven't met the dude, yet I feel like I want to hug him.

Saying It, Not Saying It, and Saying It Without Words

Sunday night, after the boys had gone home and Mr. Curls and I did a bit of physical therapy, he was in a thoughtful mood.

"What's on your mind?" I asked.

"I've been thinking a lot this past week about a conversation we had a while back."

Sometimes, it's almost eerie the way he and I can practically read each other's minds. Given the mood we were in, the way the day had gone, and what he said, I immediately put the pieces together and knew that he meant the conversation where we'd been talking about a four-letter word.

"There have been times lately," he said, "where there'll be a moment and I'm just a breath away from saying it." He paused, waiting for me to respond.

"I've been thinking about it, too. You know, trying it out in my head, and there's been a time or two where it's been on the tip of my tongue."

He nodded. "It's strange, because in those moments, it's like we have the thought and we both know it and even though we don't say it, it's almost like we did." He paused again, this time figuring out how to say the next part. "Between the two of us, and the experiences we've had, it's harder for us to say it than it is for other people. But, I hope that you can see it, in what I do, in the way I look at you."

It was a scary moment. I thought to myself, I guess maybe this is real. It's not just dating. This is a guy who cares about me all the way. So, I said, "I don't know if I'm ready to say it yet, but that doesn't mean I don't mean it. The word isn't ready, but the feeling is there."

Sunday night is the night that we told each other "I love you" for the first time, even though neither of us said those three words. The words are important, and it'll be important for us to actually say them. But, even without the words themselves, we got the idea across.

From the Mouth of Babes, or Another Weekend With the Boys

I spent more time hanging out with Mr. Curls and the boys this weekend. It surprises me how quickly the four of us have slipped into a comfortable zone. The boys have totally taken me in stride and I liked them from the outset. E., the younger boy, has basically adopted me wholesale. On Sunday, we took two cars to the park and frozen yogurt shop because I was leaving directly from there to meet some friends for dinner. Before we left the apartment, E. heard this and promptly told Mr. Curls, "A. can go with you, and I'll go with Jean." Just like that, I had a co-pilot.

Mr. Curls got a bit uncomfortable with his son proclaiming he'd ride with me without asking me first. Mr. Curls told E. that it was up to me whether or not that would be the case. For my part, I didn't mind and I took it as a stamp of approval that E. volunteered himself to ride with me.

E. also dropped a nugget of info over blueberry pancakes at breakfast. A. made the comment that he, Mr. Curls, and I were all oldest siblings, which made E. the odd man out. E. proceeded to tell me that he used to be the middle kid when he had a step mom. Turns out, ex #2 had a two-year-old daughter. It fits what little I know about her, and especially what I know about Mr. Curls. The toddler, meaning she got pregnant either at the tail end of 17 or the beginning of being 18, makes sense. She wasn't the paragon of virtue (I'm not generalizing here, but making a specific statement about this particular gal) and it fits that she was a teen mom. It also fits that Mr. Curls would see that, connect it to his own early fatherhood, and see a connection with her. Also, it makes a little more sense that he would get so tied with this gal so quickly, because he might have been looking at it not only as taking care of this chic, but also as taking care of her kid. Kids are a definite soft spot for him, especially since his access to his boys is so limited (their mom moved an hour and a half away after the divorce).

When E. talked about the ex, it was an interesting moment. Mr. Curls was certainly watching my reaction since the two-year-old was part of the bank of non-essential information we'd talked about me learning at a later date. So, it's not like he was keeping a secret, per se, but E. was telling me something Mr. Curls hadn't. Mr. Curls watched me.

E. watched me too. He's a kid who's got little by way of filter between what he thinks and what he says, but I sensed a tiny bit of purpose behind the comment. I'm not sure what that purpose might have been, but something in what he said was about me, because he watched me pretty closely, waiting for a response instead of talking on. From the tone and his attitude, I lean toward thinking that his comment about having had a step mom before was a little bit aimed toward hinting that it'd be okay if he had a step mom again. Or, maybe I'm reading too much into it. Either way, after I said a neutral, "Oh yeah?" the moment passed.

(Side Note: Mr. Curls haven't talked about the revelation yet. He hasn't brought it up, and I wanted to wait for the right moment. It's not something I'm worried about, really, and it's not something where I'm upset with him for not telling me. The conversations we've had about the exes have been pretty clear on the part where I don't want all the details at once and the part where he's got more to tell than I know so far. I made it clear that if there was anything that'd directly affect me, I wanted to know now, and I trust him that the unknown parts are okay to be unknown right now. The ex's kid info is important, but it doesn't directly affect me, so I'm okay that he hadn't told me that part yet.)

After breakfast, we bummed around a bit until I suggested we go to the park to let the boys get some fresh air. Mr. Curls smiled. "It's interesting how you said 'we' like it was the most natural thing in the world." E. jumped on the idea, proclaiming it'd be "romantic" for me and Mr. Curls. He was less impressed when, at the park, Mr. Curls declined to play tag because of his back - it's better, but not yet 100%. Both of the boys gave him a hard time about being a wuss, but Mr. Curls held firm and the boys decided they were over this whole park thing and it was time for frozen yogurt.

Later, at the yogurt shop, I went to the ladies room to wash my hands after I finished my dessert and stood at the sink next to a young lady who worked there. She smiled at me and said, "My friend and I were talking about you and your husband. We think you're so cute together."

I debated with myself for a moment whether or not to correct the misunderstanding, then I just said, "Thanks." I wonder if the assumption also followed that I was the boys' mom. It's interesting to think about.

The whole situation with Mr. Curls' complicated past and the boys' complicated parental situation is, well, complicated, and now I'm plopped in the middle of it. I'm cautious about the whole thing, because there's so much potential for drama, but so far things have gone along with remarkable smoothness. It's unexpected and leaves me wondering, why isn't it harder? Is this too easy? That part makes me a little nervous.

Doctor's Orders

Mr. Curls had another visit with the doctor and physical therapist today and afterward, I was asking him about what they had to say about how he's healing up and when they'd give him the okay to go back to work. We were chatting about that for a few minutes, when talk of him being healed enough to go back to work lead to talk about him being okay for other activities.

"There was one thing the doctor mentioned... He mentioned you, actually. He said as long as we took it kind of easy, I should be well enough to get naughty with you. In fact," he winked, "the doctor said that the particular hip movements involved would actually be good for me. You know, like physical therapy."

"Oh, really?" I said.

"Really."

"Well, I guess I could go along with that," I said, taking off his shirt. "You know, in the spirit of doing my part to help you get healed up."

I was a little bit worried at first, but there proved to be no need. Afterward, Mr. Curls informed me that the doctor was right and it had helped. His back felt better. Talk about a good prescription ;)

Life, By Definition, Is Conflict, or I Guess I'm Perfectly Normal

For the past two weeks or so, I've been stressed. I'm being pushed and pulled by a variety of pressures and deadlines (can you say Finals Week?) and I'm tense. Yesterday I woke early because of a stress dream and couldn't get back to sleep. All things considered, I've been thinking of one of the most apt descriptions of life I've ever been exposed to: life as a series of crises.

When I was an undergrad, I had to take some psychology classes. Overall, I really hated them. One of the three I took wasn't too bad. That class had the best teacher (the other two sucked). Still, psych classes = not my thing. It's not that I dislike the material or that I dislike the study of the human mind. More, I disliked the specific approach two of the three instructors took.

But, the part that stuck with me the most was Erikson's developmental theory. You can google it for more info, but the jist is that we, as people, are formed and become who we are, through a series of conflicts. Each age has its own special conflict, from infancy all the way until death. The important thing, is that, according to Erikson, our whole lives are defined by conflict.

Erikson fits perfectly from one of the basic ideas I learned in biology - life is a product of unbalance. All of our biological processes, like breathing, are constant while we're alive. Yet, the processes of breathing are not constant. There is a struggle behind each inhalation, then an exchange of gases because there's too much carbon dioxide in the blood, and then the oxygen is whisked off to the rest of the body. For a moment in between, when the gases are trading places, there is an instant where there is balance between them. But, that balance can't last. Your cells need that oxygen and your body needs to expel the carbon dioxide, and the balance is ruined. It is a necessary lack of balance, but one that cannot be held, so the teeter-totter swings back and forth, back and forth. When the teeter-totter stops, you're dead.

Right now, I'm in the midst of complications. Every good thing comes with its trade-off.

• In May, my MA will be official vs. I feel burned out and cynical about the experience.
• I finished all my coursework for getting said MA vs. that made me ineligible for the work study I was doing for two years and I had to start paying back student loans at about the same time I lost my work study job.
  
• I got the second part-time teaching job vs. now I have another teaching commitment with a different curriculum, different assignments, different supervisor, different campus, and different student body demographic to juggle.
• I'm happy for the extra income of the second job vs. even with it, I still lack basics like health insurance, and even with the second source of income, the combined total is still going to be pretty underwhelming, especially relative to the combined work load.
  
• I'm in a new relationship with a guy who treats me well vs. I'm intimidated by being in a serious relationship with anyone, much less a guy who's got such a complicated past.
• I'm soon to be doing some traveling to visit my brother and go to a wedding and I'm really excited about it vs. the travel comes with expenses, and I'm in a place where I'm stressed about how quickly the number on my bank account is shrinking, even though I know I've been planning for these travel expenses for months.
• I paid off one of my student loans in its entirety this week vs. that's nearly $2,000 all gone at once.

The teeter-totter goes back and forth and the crux of the stress is knowing that the path of my life has to change due to necessity. My biggest overall concern right now is money. I live frugally, but the money I make is even less. When I was getting student loans, I socked any leftovers away in a savings account so I could have a financial buffer. Over the past year or so, I've had to lean on that buffer and it's slowly, but steadily, getting smaller. Even living frugally, my monthly expenses average just a little bit more than my monthly income. My job is not sustainable, but so far picking up another part-time teaching job is the best I've been able to do.

What I need is a real, grown-up job where I can work full time, have an income that can actually support me, and have some benefits like medical insurance. The only problem is I haven't been able to find one yet. My job hunting so far has turned up a couple of possibilities, but one already turned me down, and the other is beginning to look like it'll follow suit. All of this pain and effort to get the damn MA and I'm starting to think my best career option is to get one of those jobs I could have gotten right out of high school - at least, those seem to be the only places hiring (or, I can redo college and go for nursing, 'cause they're hiring right and left right now). Kind of makes me wonder what the point of going to college was. What the point of getting the damn MA was.

So, yeah. Every resolution ultimately leads to new conflict. Life is crisis. I guess it's good to know I'm living, at least.

The Broken Boyfriend Adventure

I usually talk to Mr. Curls in the mornings, so when the usual time came and went on Monday, I sent him a text to say hello, something along the lines of, "Good morning, how's your day going?" An hour went by, no response. My Spidey sense started to tingle.

Finally, a short text in reply, "Not well." Then, "I may need a favor later."

Turns out, that favor was a ride home from the doctor's office. Turns out, Mr. Curls twisted a muscle in his back. The injury is bad enough to have him out of commission for a few days, but not bad enough that he needs surgery (thank goodness).

I hung out with Mr. Curls for the rest of the day, making some dinner and sitting on the couch with him to watch a couple movies. He was in pretty bad shape. It hurt him to move and it hurt him even worse to get up. It was horrible, you know, for me, 'cause he was so clearly in pain and there was nothing I could do to fix it. But, I could be there with him and hold his hand, and that helped a little.

Tomorrow, I'm taking him in for his follow-up doctor's appointment and more physical therapy. I feel really bad for him since he's hurt, but I have to admit that I've been making "old man" comments right and left. Can't baby him too much, now, don't want to spoil him ;)

Brother Meets Boyfriend

Since my brother is a young guy with some time on his hands between phases of his pilot training, he decided to take a road trip on his motorcycle from Florida to Colorado. He, and his very sore butt, got into town the night before last, so yesterday me and Mr. Curls met up with my brother and his girlfriend so Mr. Curls could meet my little brother.

We met up, grilled some hamburgers, and spent the afternoon hanging out. My brother and Mr. Curls hit it off right away. In part, because their personalities just work, and in part because my brother was way excited that he wasn't the only boy. In the past, there have been times where it's been me, my brother, and the girlfriend and she and I have ganged up on him. This time, my brother had another guy as backup.

See, my brother is ticklish. WAY ticklish. That makes it really hilarious when me and the girlfriend team up and attack him. He giggles in a distinctly girlish way when he gets tickled, and he flails helplessly about, which entertains me and the girlfriend to no end. Yesterday, there came a point when we were all sitting on the lawn outside and me and the girlfriend decided it was a good time to tackle my brother.

There I was, getting some good rib tickling in, when suddenly, I got blindsided by a sneak attack as Mr. Curls tickled me from behind. Ticklishness, like thick hair, is a trait my brother and I share. So, as soon as Mr. Curls came at me and exploited this weakness, I was out of commission, leaving my brother with much better odds. Mr. Curls scored major points with my brother for that and it pretty much cemented their alliance.

Mr. Curls has officially passed the brother test. Now the girlfriend and I have lost the two-against-one girl advantage. Tragic, I tell you. Tragic ;)

Mr. Curls To the Rescue

My parents were on a trip this past week and I stopped by the house a few times to check for burglars. This was extra important because a few weeks ago, their next door neighbors had their house broken into.

I went to visit mom and dad's a few days ago. I picked up some Chinese food and a DVD to watch on their big screen TV. Part way through the DVD, Mr. Curls called to shoot the breeze and I started to walk down the stairs into the basement for something. Half way down the stairs, I heard a sound like one of the storage boxes falling over.

"Um, hang on a second," I said as I back-pedaled up the stairs. I walked outside, locked the door, then told Mr. Curls about the noise. "Could be, it was nothing," I said. "Could be, it's just a squirrel or something. But, what with the neighbors, and all..."

"You want me to come over? I'm already on that side of town."

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to be a wimp, but, worst case scenario, it'd be worse to be stupid than to over-react. "Could you?"

"I'll be right there."

I waited in my car with the engine running, just in case a murderous burglar came at me. Soon enough, Mr. Curls pulled up. All business, he walked around the house with me, helping me check for any places someone might have broken in - I wanted to do a walk around first, because if we found an obvious place where a window was busted, then I'd call the police right then and there. When we didn't see any spots where someone might have broken in, we ventured inside. Together, we went through the house room by room, checking for intruders.

Thankfully, it turned out to be a false alarm. Whatever I heard, it was most likely a weird echo of my own footsteps. I felt kind of silly about being worried, but relieved at the same time. I felt a little bad for asking Mr. Curls to drop what he was doing and come over just because I was paranoid, but for his part, he just shrugged. "I'm glad it was nothing. I'd much rather it be nothing than think that you were in danger." That was it. No mention of how he'd left his sister's mid-conversation. No mention of how I'd worried him for nothing, and no giving me a hard time about an over-active imagination. Just relief that it was okay.

Even though it turned out to be nothing, he was there for me, without hesitation, when I needed him. It's the sort of thing that balances out all the baggage and complications. Whatever else, I know he's got my back. It's a good feeling.

A Conversation About a Conversation

The night after the conversation that got my emotions all in a whirl, I was at Mr. Curls' place, curled up on the couch with him. I'd been quiet, trying to decide what to say about what had been going on in my head and wanting to have some time just to enjoy listening to his heartbeat and having his arms around me.

"You seem tired," he said.

"Not tired. Thoughtful."

He tipped my head up a little to look me in the eyes. "What's up?"

"Something happened when we were talking last night. I had a really unexpected reaction to part of what we were talking about."

"Oh?" I started trying to explain, and when I paused to figure out the next thing to say, he helped me fill in. "Would this have to do with what you told me a while back?" We'd only talked about my foster brother once, but Mr. Curls is sharp, he'd connected the dots. "Last night, when you seemed uncomfortable, I thought that might be it. That's why I said we didn't have to talk about it." He hugged me, tight.

Then, we talked. Mostly, I talked and he listened. He didn't say much. There wasn't much he could say about something like that. He held me tight. He stroked my hair. He asked me if I'd ever talked to a professional about it. The important part was that even though he was absolutely dog tired from a couple of sixteen hour work days in a row, he stayed up, listening to me and being there for me without ever once looking at the clock.

The Freak Out, or, A Ghost From the Past

The past few days, I've been a bit stressed due to a combination of some drama going on with my present job and the tension and insecurity of applying for a new job which would mean a drastic pay increase and moving to a nearby city. Also, Mr. Curls and I have been talking a little bit about plans for going out of town in May for the wedding of one of my closest friends. It's a trip, together, and it's still a month out that we're planning for. It's intimidating.

Last night, while we were having yet another marathon phone call, we started talking about some sex things. Most of the details aren't important, so I'll skip all but the few that are. We talked about masturbation and the conversation almost went somewhere I didn't want it to. When I was a little kid, we're talking about three or four, I learned more than I should have about genitals. Someone I trusted, my foster brother, touched me where he shouldn't have. As soon as my parents found out, he was removed from the house. Since I was so young, I really don't remember most of it, though I've spent a long time and a number of conversations with the friend whose wedding we're going to to try and sort out how this thing has affected me. The bottom line: I've dealt with it, but these days I have a hard time drawing the line between things I can trace back to that and things that come from other places. Sorry, I know that's vague, but I'm having a hard time finding the right words.

Talking about masturbation, talking about touching myself, reminds me that someone else touched me first. I've told Mr. Curls about what happened, but I told him it didn't matter. Usually, it doesn't.

The conversation last night then turned to him asking me about preferences about pubic hair. "So, um, what do you like?" He asked.

"I like what you've got going on right now," I said. Then, "Since you bring it up, it's only fair to ask you." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Since before Mr. Curls, and before my ex, I decided I liked to keep things trimmed up down there. Not bushy, but not shaved. I have it how I like it. Period. I added, "Not to make you answer differently, but I may not be anxious to change it."

"Fair enough. I will say that I do kind of like no hair there. I like what you've got, too. It's kind of tied."

And that is when it happened. I don't know where the reaction came from, and I can't explain exactly how it happened. All I know is that suddenly, my heart fell to my stomach and all I wanted was to hang up on him and keep my phone turned off. Can we say disproportionate reaction? I was blindsided. I mean, what the fuck? All he said was, "I kind of like this one thing," and BAM! I didn't know what was going on, but I knew I needed to change the subject, so I told him and before long we were saying goodnight and hanging up. I sat on my bed after I hung up the phone, trying to figure out what had just happened.

In the course of this relationship, there has been so much else, things that are way more important than pubic hair, that I've learned about that I just took in stride. So, what's different about this? I went to bed last night feeling horrible and insecure and anxious. It sucked. Some of that feeling is lingering this morning, which also sucks. As best I can figure it, the reaction comes from a couple of things.

One: insecurity about sexual experience. Before Mr. Curls, I had exactly one notch on my bed post. Exactly one guy I had (willingly) been intimate with. I haven't asked Mr. Curls about his number, because I'm not at a place where I want to know, but he's been married twice, which means at least two, which isn't a big number by any stretch of the imagination, but it's twice what mine was. If he likes it bare down there, then who was the one who is the reason he likes it? It's an immediate insecurity born of comparison.

Two: what if we don't match? We've talked about bedroom desires and what each of us finds appealing. I've asked him what he likes and, well, the guy's pretty vanilla. The first conversation we had, he said X and Y and I asked him if there was anything else and he couldn't think of anything. Then, a while later, he said he liked Z, too. Again, we're talking disproportionate response, because it wasn't anything that came out of left field or anything like that, it just triggered an irrational, "He's got a foot fetish, I know it!" response in me. The jist is, he's just so much unexplored territory and because he's a different person than my ex was, being with him is different than it was with my ex. I mean, duh. But, part of it ties back to the whole lack of experience thing. There's the part of me that's afraid he's going to want something I won't be okay with - which is silly because knowing him and knowing me, there's a whole lot I am or would be okay with, and I think I might be okay with more than he would. It's more that I've never been much of the lingerie girl, and he likes lacy thongs. Things aren't just all on my terms. Again, it's a "duh" moment. Relationships are all about compromise in all kinds of ways. And, just because I was never really into thongs doesn't mean I minded wearing one the other night. It's not about the thing itself, ultimately, it's about the control. Specifically, it's about me giving some up. As a gal who spent most of the past three years being single and having absolute control, that's a change. Change is scary.

Three: my crotch is, well, intimate. Having sex is one thing because it's about giving myself over to someone, but only for a time. Then I get myself back. Shaving my pubes would be about someone else having control over my lady parts on a more than temporary basis. I'd be walking around all day knowing that my crotch was a certain way because that's how someone else liked it. And, for me, the crotch is the most important part of the whole thing. When I was a kid, someone who shouldn't have had anything to do with my crotch did what he wanted with it, i.e. loss of control. Thus, for so much of the rest of my life, it's been an extra sensitive area for me, no pun intended. I've been somewhat casual about above-the-belt fooling around, but below-the-belt is not in any way casual for me. There has never been an off-hand fingering or such, because I am not okay with that at all, because, I have this thing from my past.

Four: the worst part is that my reaction last night caught me SO off guard. After all this time and talking with someone I trusted about it, I was confident that I'd dealt with what happened. I knew that I'd dealt with it. I knew I was over it. It was a thing that happened, and it was a really ugly thing, but I'd gotten past it. Then, I reacted how I did and it immediately brings up the point that maybe I'm not quite all the way past it.

And then we go back to the insecurity. Mr. Curls tells me I'm wonderful. He tells me he's so lucky to have found me and that he has a hard time seeing why someone so great as me would be interested in someone who's got all this baggage. I tell him I'm far from perfect and point out a thing or two to that effect. He shrugs, "It's no big deal." This, though, this is a big deal and even though I've told him about it, I did everything I could to downplay it and we haven't talked about it since.

I think I need to talk to him about it a little more, but I don't know what purpose it'd serve, and I don't know how to say it or what to say about it. It's something that I've thought about in so many different ways that it's become ambiguous to me. I honestly don't know how much of what I think and feel about it comes from the event itself and how much comes from me thinking about it afterward. The only part that's really vivid is an image in my mind. It was night and I was in my bed in the basement bedroom. I see the stairs leading into my room and him standing at the top of them in his underwear. I remember, faintly, the feeling of him on top of me. I don't remember if there was actual penetration, but I don't think so. I imagine if there had been, I would have remembered discomfort or pain.

With my ex, I told him about it and then it was over. It never was an issue once I talked about it and I was okay. So, why is it different this time? Why am I reacting to something I barely remember? How much of it is the thing itself, and how much of it is bleed-through from other stresses I'm dealing with right now? What does the freak out mean? Does it really mean anything at all? I wish I knew the answers. I hate not knowing exactly what it is I'm feeling or why. I hate this so much. I just wish time would speed up so I could get out through the other side of it right away.

Game Night and Package Deals

Saturday Mr. Curls and the boys got some of Mr. Curls' stuff out of storage, a.k.a. picked it up from ex #2's sister (he's been waiting to get it until he could be sure there wouldn't be drama). When I went to the apartment that night, there were a stack of boxes stuffed into the bedroom, some pieces of furniture added to the living room, and, most exciting of all, a kitchen table.

I arrived with a few things of my own: a deck of cards, Jenga, and a couple of board games. The boys were a tad shy at first, staying in their room for a minute before peeking out. Then, any shyness was over and E, the eight-year-old quickly wrangled me into a game of Don't Break The Ice while Mr. Curls fiddled with getting the TV stand set up. It didn't take too long before all four of us were playing Jenga. The slightly wobbly table, combined with a very energetic E's elbows on the table, made for extra suspense.

There was a moment during playing games where Mr. Curls had E. go to his room to calm down a bit and A., the thirteen-year-old, was on an expedition to the convenience store for a donut. The two of us were alone for a moment and Mr. Curls shook his head, "I promise, they're not usually this wound up," he said, meaning E. mostly.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I figured."

Mr. Curls smiled, "Would it make sense if I told you they were excited to see you?"

Once we regrouped, we moved on to cards. After a few hands, Mr. Curls made a pizza run and while he was gone, I showed the boys a couple of card tricks I know. Then I showed them how to do the tricks and A. immediately practiced a couple times and when Mr. Curls returned with the pizza, A. did the tricks for him. One was a bit more complicated, so he goofed it. Once we finished pizza, I helped A. practice the trick until he got it down pat.

Later, after a movie and after the boys were in bed, Mr. Curls and I sat on the couch for a bit, letting the quiet soak in. "That was fun," I said.

"Yeah?" Mr. Curls looked relieved. He had been a bit self-conscious at moments when the boys were giving each other grief, or when E.'s volume level got high. But, I know that kids are kids. I also can see that A. and E. are good kids. Add to that the fact that, since the boys were more wound up than when we did mini golf, I got to see Mr. Curls in more of a dad mode when he needed to be. He's a good dad, and it was neat to see that side of him.

"I liked goofing around with the boys. It's been a good night."

I was pleased that the boys got into the games like they did. It reminded me a bit of playing games with my parents when I was a kid and that gave me a whole warm fuzzy vibe. It's been a number of years since I started thinking that giving birth really wasn't my idea of a good time. However, whenever I think of my future, I tend to see kids in it. For a very long time, I've been telling my brother all about the kids he's going to have so I can be an aunt. A few days ago, when we were talking about Mr. Curls, my brother asked if that was still the plan. "Yup," I told him. "Besides, Mr. Curls already has two, so it's not like he's feeling the baby fever either. I'm still more into the idea of part time kids than full time."

"Then that'll work perfect," my brother said. "His kids are like rentals."

"Exactly."

It might sound shallow, but I swear it has more to do with the difference between liking children and needing to have my own biological children. With Mr. Curls' boys, I've been pleasantly surprised by how quickly they've warmed up to me. I expected more caution. I expected them to spend more time feeling me out before deciding about me. The idea that they were excited to see me Saturday is more than I expected. Like so much else with this relationship, it gelled more easily than I hoped.

I don't want to jump the gun, but these days, the more I imagine my future, the more I imagine Mr. Curls being in it. The more I imagine having a lot more game nights. I've always had the dream of a family of my own, even if that family wasn't the typical set up with me giving birth to members thereof. The thing is, though I've had that clear goal, it's always been distant. Now, in such a short time of only a few months, that goal seems to suddenly be a lot closer. The last thing I want is to get ahead of myself, but I like the idea of the four of us. My plan was, if all went well, I'd be adding one more person to my life. Now, if all goes well, I'd be adding three. It's intimidating. It's exciting. I just might be getting a family out of this.

Funny to think how it all started with a question in a bar.

Chancing Rejection, aka the Job Interview

A while back, I posted about talking to the gal at the community college about teaching some classes there as well as where I'm teaching now. I was nervous. I've never been comfortable with pitching myself to people. The whole, "I'm awesome, wouldn't you agree?" thing makes me want to puke. Still, it's a necessary evil when it comes to things like getting a job.

I sent off the inquiry e-mail to the gal and cringed when I hit "send." Then I immediately realized I had forgotten to put something in the subject line. Crap. Cue the butterflies in the gut, sweaty palms, and panic attack.

Imagine my thrill when her response was to say my CV was "impressive" and that she'd love to talk with me further.

Fast forward to the day when I went in for my talk/interview. Mr. Curls had wished me luck that morning, adding, "Though, I'm sure you don't need any." I was running approximately two minutes late because I had decided at the last minute that I wanted to include one more document in the folder I was bringing to the interview and had to print it out. Two minutes late, and I was cussing myself out as I raced across the parking lot. I found her office and she smiled warmly at me and said, "You must be Jean. It's nice to meet you."

Then, we started talking. She asked me about some of the experience I listed on my CV. She asked me what I considered my strengths as a teacher and what I struggled with. The interview started to get longer and longer and she was both very friendly, very professional, and very thoughtful about my answers. Before long, I started to feel less like a deer in headlights. Then she got to the point where she asked if I had any questions for her.

"At this point, my main question would be how I might fit here. If I were to teach here, what classes might I be teaching?"

The answer was not what I expected. Instead of saying, "Well, the classes you might teach would be X, Y, and/or Z," she said, "What would you think of teaching a class this summer? I have one more X class to fill." Just like that, I got hired! No second interview, no having to think it over, just a comment about how she'd already spoken to my current boss about me, gotten a positive review, and that she wanted me on board.

As soon as I said I'd be thrilled to take on the summer class, she loaded me up with the materials I'd need, told me to talk to HR, and said she looked forward to working with me. I was professional and said I was looking forward to it, but I didn't gush or squeal with glee since that would've been weird. Let me tell you though, as soon as I walked out of her door, I had the biggest, dumbest grin on my face and it stayed there for at least two hours afterward.

Okay, one summer class is hardly enough to retire on, but it's my foot in the door and it is an earlier start than I had hoped for. Now I have something productive to do this summer. The extra bonus is the self esteem bonus. My whole work and income situation has been a source of stress for me for a while, and I am just so extraordinarily psyched about this because even if it's a small win, it's still a WIN!

A Four-Letter Word

Last weekend, Mr. Curls and I had a conversation we'd been warming up to for a few days. He had said something on the phone the night before regarding the timing of when I met the boys, "I was talking with my sister about it and I told her that I thought it would be best if certain things happened first." He paused, trying to figure out the next part. "Certain mile markers that we haven't gotten to yet. But, when I talked to her, and now that you've met them, I started thinking that the timing was just right anyway."

"Certain mile markers, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm thinking I may have a hunch about that, which makes me think it'd be better to save that thought for a time when we can talk about it in person."

The next day, when I went over to his place, we got back to that thought. See, I had a hunch about what it was, because I've gotten to know him pretty well and because I'd been talking with a friend about a specific anxiety I was having in regard to the relationship. It's not a bad thing, but it is a thing that freaks me out because of its implications.

"So," I said, "about that mile marker you were talking about last night, let's talk about that."

"Okay, let's talk about that," he said.

Both of us were feeling awkward by that point. We do that sometimes. We'll both be struggling for words, trying to figure out how to say what we mean. Sometimes, the process even involves blushing and scrunched up facial expressions, but the important thing is that even if it's not easy, or if it's uncomfortable, we push through and say what we need to say. It took us a while to get to the heart of the matter where we described a certain four-letter word. A word that's way scary and starts with an "L."

With this conversation, there was a fair amount of talking around the idea before we finally landed on it, because that word intimidates us both. For both of us, that word does not come easily. After a lot of pauses and comments where more was implied that said, but where we both knew what the other meant, we reached the point where we told each other that word had been on our minds. We've both been thinking about it, but neither of us is quite ready to say it out loud yet. Neither of us is quite ready to claim it yet.

But, we've been thinking about it. I've been trying it out in my head, too. Just in my thoughts, I'll try out an idea that has that word. I'm testing how it feels. It feels alright, to be honest. It feels like maybe I could say it soon. That, maybe, is the scariest part. In the past, like with my first boyfriend, I knew it wasn't there. He said it, and I said, "Me too," because that's what he wanted, but I knew I didn't feel it. That was easier. Now, I test it and I have a "Yes, maybe" kind of thought, which makes me a million bajillion times more uneasy.

If I say that word, that means I mean it. If I mean that word, that means I'm saying yes to this guy. I'm saying that I feel enough for him to go beyond a guy I like spending time with and I like being intimate with. I'm saying that I feel enough for him to think about it not as his future and my future, but as our future. So, I try the word out in my head and take my time before I get ready to try and say it out loud.