I admit, coming back to my apartment tonight (for the first time in two days) at 10 p.m. and finding things laying about that need to be cleaned, washed, etc. kinda made me irritable. I really feel like there aren't enough hours in my day to accomplish everything that needs to be done. Sometimes though it is more important to share a bowl of vanilla ice cream topped with fresh fruit with someone important to you as opposed to getting things actually accomplished. The more I chastise myself for failing to meet my own personal deadlines and goals, the more I realize that I still have that precious time to make it right again. I still have a chance to make it work out.
My parents spent most of last night regaling my brother and I with tales of London and Paris, showering us with gifts, and flipping through all 630 digital pictures on the tv (complete with stories to boot). With heavy tired eyes I watched, thrilled though, and thought about how I need another escape. It really stinks being the type of person I am sometimes. I rarely ever experience a feeling of accomplishment and fulfillment. No matter what I do, awards I receive, praise I hear, I never feel that sense of ease, relaxation, and accomplishment. The same heavy burdens seem to press on me, reminding me that now I have time to tackle everything else on my list. As I looked at the pictures last night and heard the stories, I lacked any feeling of personal accomplishment, even though the entire reason my parents experienced these wonderful sights and places was because of me. When I finished the huge project at work this summer, got promoted to Editor - even then I didn't feel it. I didn't even feel anything when I graduated from college, or when I finally finished my senior thesis. There's always something left to do. I'm really going to work on this.
I know who I am, how incredibly strong I am, and how sometimes I throw my friends for loops. My personal element of surprise is one of my secret pleasures. I love surprising people in any way possible. Figure me out and poof! Suddenly you realize that I'm a pit of secrets. I'm in a mischievous mood and I don't really know why. Maybe it's because my mom and dad brought me back a small tiny box of French chocolates and they make me feel like I'm experiencing a magical place. I've eaten 3 since yesterday, and each time personally restrain myself as to conserve them for another time. I never knew what heaven tasted like until yesterday.
Some of you are wondering where my promised topical post is. Don't worry, here it comes. Ahhh, Brandon Smith and all his glory. There are some new elements to the issue, but here's the basic breakdown: Ivy League grad, not my usual type physically (i.e. I'm all about the classic 'American Guy' look, this guy looks European and has a very angular face), dresses really stylishly like he fell out of a GQ magazine ad, seems to enjoy spending time with friends at places like the Drake Hotel Lounge and other such posh locales, travels a lot (Miami and New York on a lot of weekends), is a lawyer who is going into Real Estate Development, 27, family-oriented, etc. He's a total smooth talker who instantly makes you feel comfortable and relaxed. Our entire first date was so intimidating at first in both atmosphere and his appearance, but I felt better quickly. He made me laugh a bunch, too. The only thing I cannot figure out is if he can ever really "relax" or if he acts so high society 24/7. In order for a guy and I to really work, he would need to be able to kick back, throw on some sweats, cuddle, and be himself with me. Let your hair down so to speak. I'm not sure yet if Brandon is that way.
He was a perfect gentleman, and gave me a hug and kiss at the end of the night. He just got back from Miami and we talked about going out this weekend. I'm just not sure yet because I really want to use the next two weekends to study for the GMAT, so we'll see. Maybe I'll take a break to have some fun. I think after a second meeting I will be able to tell more of what he's about. If he can 'hang' then things might take off. You never know.
Things with J are getting interesting again. Well, we still talk almost everyday since we decided to take a break from each other (my project was killing me, etc.), but lately things seem interesting again. He hasn't seen my new place yet and he mentioned today that he's going to come soon. He's interesting because he and I are both extremely perceptive/sensitive to others/receptive/work with feelings which makes it a royal showdown because two people like us try to psychoanalyze the other at the same time. Trust me, you can't get away with much. Actually, his ability to do these things is admittedly better than mine, which means that usually I'm the one not getting away with much. But I digress.
I remember that on our first date he scared the you-know-what out of me with what he understood about me, and the things he experienced that I completely related to (and never thought anyone would really understand). On the other hand he and I were raised in two completely different worlds with two completely different belief systems and ideals. The thought of spending time with him makes me happy though. We are so unbelievably sassy to each other, and it's really hilarious. I don't put too much into this now other than good vibes/relatively innocent, but when it started initially we got so close so quickly and removing ourselves from each others lives and rebuilding that wall was really hard. We had no choice though. It would have hurt too much.
Enough of that. I really want to join an indoor soccer team. I have my old pair of indoor shoes, and just need to pick up some shin guards and new socks. Wait, I need to find a team too. Shouldn't be too difficult in the Windy City though. I miss that feeling of being on a team. I played team (and individual) sports my entire life until I got to college, and there only a co-ed indoor league for a few weeks out of a year.
I miss having a coach push the hell out of me, feeling the beads of sweat drip down my face and back, watching them splash onto the gym floor forming their own puddle. Or feeling like there's no way I can run anymore but knowing stopping isn't an option, or switching into game mode and feeling my competitive self unleash and take over my entire existence. You attack the ball, try your hardest, regain your footing, elbow your way in, and feel the rush of connecting the laces to that ball. Brian and I used to go to the gym at DePaul and after he forced me to run a bazillion laps with him, use the Thai Pads, and do sit ups for fighters, I would take him into the racquetball courts and we'd go to town on that ball. I taught him how to kick and then would make him defend against my shots. The exhilaration of kicking it faster and precisely the way I wanted never ceased to give me that rush I always crave.
I want to feel that again, over and over again. Sports bring out the best feelings in me. I need to find that release again. Maybe after I rock the GMAT and get into Northwestern.
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