An Affair to Remember

Confession: I have a love affair, every year. More precisely, every winter. For whatever reason, whenever this love of mine comes rolling back into my life, I easily get wrapped up in it. I can't help it, I. Am. Addicted. I can be going on with my life as normal, and then with just a sudden shift in the atmosphere and magically, once again, making an appearance in my life in all of it's white, glittery, goodness that is my love: SNOW!

Ever since I can remember, snow and I have had a thing going on. I feel as if I was born with some kind of snow radar. My body senses when snow is on it's way. I can count a handful of times when I have woken up in the middle of the night just knowing that it was here, and sure enough I would go to the window and see it in the midst of it's first glorious and beautiful fall of the year. Can anything be any more breathtaking than a midnight snow falling? I think not. It makes me so happy. I get angry when people complain about how much they hate snow. That is like saying how much you hate, puppies and their adorable little butts, or baby giggles, or if you are Kia-any baby animal in a diaper. Snow is wonderful, and amazing, not something deserving of hatred. And if you hate it so, why in the world do you live in an area that has it 3-5 months out of the year? You don't like it? Fine, you don't have to live here.

I am always so sad that snow does not immediately come on December 1st. But when it finally does, I feel as if it has arrived just for me:) It makes everything better. It blankets over all your worries, and concerns with it's wonderful fluffiness and assures you that all will be okay. It gives you a white, blank canvas to start over. I am in desperate need for my one true love to make it's way back into town and into my life, quick! I want to fall into it and be swept away the only way that snow can.

Exhaustion From the Depths (Or How a Non-Cryer Has Spent 2+ Weeks as a Weepy Mess)

Just as a side-note, the title of this post is not an over dramatization. I have quite literally, and pathetically (I might add), been on the edge of a sob storm at any moment of any day ever since I've gotten back from Michigan. And, I don't cry. Ever. To borrow a line from Julia Roberts, "I think there is a good possibility that I am profoundly and irreversibly screwed up!" I have fallen into the deep pit that is my family and all of it's madness and antics and I haven't been able to escape back out of it. On one hand, it is not completely their fault. I am a big girl now, I can say no and yes, and can make decisions about my life all on my own. It's not as if someone has forced me to get involved in all the saga like plots that have fallen upon my familia. And no one else is controlling the way that I am choosing to deal with it. My state of being an emotional voided rebooting zombie robot who pushes people away is something that I came up with all on my lonesome. (proud smile) So DON'T try to copy it, I've got it Trademarked! So you will have to pay me handsomely if I find out that you are shadily stealing my coping mechanisms! Okay, so yea, yea. It's not COMPLETELY their fault. But in some ways it IS their fault. (John, if you are reading this, please stop right here. Know that I am not talking about you, just the two other grown ups and that crazy loon of a sister)

I have come to the conclusion that there are times when life is just so not fair. Now I'm NOT talking about when you want to throw yourself a good ole fashion pity party and have a big tantrum about how life is just so unfair to a little beautiful princess like you! (gag) However, I am referring to those crystal clear moments when the sun hits everything just right and for but an instant you see how blindingly unfair and complex life can be. So basically, to fill you in, I went back home, not for me, but for my family. I went there so I could, to quote my mother, "You need to come here to encourage your Dad, and John, and me! We NEED you here!" And so I went. I went to live up to the role I so stupidly assigned myself as The Protector. I went because my family seemed so desperate for me to be there. I went because this is what I do, Amanda goes and holds it together so everyone else can fall apart. I went because I am an idiot. The only reasons that I went for my own selfishness was to see my brother, and to go through all my crap that was still there. (Sidebar-I am happy to report that I officially have nothing left in Michigan!)

Being there, I got to witness first hand what an anxious ball of nerves my father has become. I have never seen him look so old before. He would sit in his chair with his jacket on, hat on, and shoes on-being fully ready to move into instant action IF the moment ever called for it. He would jump at the slightest noise, and scope out every car that would drive by. He would not just relax. The saddest thing about it all, my dad made zero time for me. And zero effort in even acting like he wanted to spend time with me. So my mother pleading that my father "needed me", a lie perhaps? Yes, he did the quintessential him, and drove me back and forth to my ride, but that was it really. Even when he 1st picked me up, we were in the car not even 5 minutes when the phone rings and he picks it up and proceeds to have like a 7 minute non important conversation, neglecting to tell his friend "Hey, Amanda just got in. I'll call you back." Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I get it, I know there is a lot of big, monumental things taking place in Monroe, but you haven't seen me since March, and you complain all the time about how much you "miss" me, and then I am finally right here, for you, and nothing. Even just sitting with you in the living room for those 12 minutes waiting for Mom, you did not have one single thing to say to me except, "I don't know sometimes, Amanda. I just don't know." Well, right back at you Pops! I don't know about you either. And that hurts.

Then there is the complex and fantasy living creature: my mother. Sometimes she has this special way about her that in a matter of moments she can go from the most dramatic to most level headed person in the world. My whole life I have been plagued with the feeling that no matter what I do, my mother will never be satisfied with it. She is un-satisfiable in so many ways. (I have a sneaking suspicion that at times.....I am like that also. Dang it!) She also has the skills to somehow twist and turn everything around, and make it about her. It truly is an art the way she does it. And you just know, right when you are in the middle of it, and you watch it all unfold in front of you in the beautifully tragic way. Somehow you saying, "I can't handle this because of X, Y, and Z" ends up with her in an emotional rant about all that she does and has done and how she is on her last nerve, and you feeling like a complete monster. The truth is, not EVERYTHING is about you. Have you ever really heard what I am trying to tell you? Do you ever just listen to what your children are saying? There are some truths at the heart of it that I think you need to hear.

I love my family. There is no denying that. We all collectively share one heartbeat. But I am angry at some of the things they choose to be and do. I dropped everything in New York to go home and hold my family's hand. Then when I return back to my life in the wake of all that has happened, and I don't know how to register all the things that I am feeling, who is here to hold my hand? Where are you guys when I need you? You were up my butt for like 2 weeks before I came, pressuring me to come, and now that I'm back home, nothing. Not a phone call, not a text, email, SOS, smoke signal, snail mail, carrier pigeon....nothing. The kicker is that I can't even be 100% honest with you, because if I was to tell you, "no, I'm not doing alright", you would not be able to handle it. I realize now that that is most likely the reason why you don't truly ask. You are afraid of what the answer might be. And how do we operate in a world where I do not have it together? I don't know. I've been struggling with that ever since I left. Guess what? I am not okay. I don't even know where to begin fully in all the things that are so NOT okay with my life currently. And the one people that I would like to count on right now, my family, I can't. See, life is so not fair. Hence, why when I start to feel like a confused mess of a stranger to myself, I push people away. I retreat.

When you get broken, it is easier to start seeing the cracks in the foundations all around you. I push because I am scared. I scared at what I may say or do that could potentially hurt you. But mainly, I'm scared that you could hurt me. Such is life to be let down by the ones you love the most. In my mind though, if I keep you at a safe distance, you can't let me down. You can't hurt me. It's funny, because by doing this, to keep hurt away from all players I might add, I still end up hurting people. So on top of everything else, I must now go around handing out apologies to people and promising soon I will be back to normal just to make them feel better, even though I myself don't even believe the words I just said. I am worried that some of the people I considered to be true friends, in it for the long haul, the thick of it, rain or shine or hurricane, no matter what-they are there. They might actually be more like fair weather friends. Only in the relationship when it is most convenient for them. But when you are bottomed out and beaten up and the ugliest version of yourself, they are no where to be found. I don't need people too often, so when I do and they are not there, it stings. Stings like acid in a deep gouge in my chest cavity. I guess pressure is good if for nothing else but showing people's true characteristics. Maybe I just have the habit though of expecting people to be someone that they simply aren't.

Who's That Girl?

Let me give you a hint: It's not yours truly. Sigh. And, yes I know what you are thinking. YES! I am in fact in a funk, deal with it muchachos! I'm sorry, I don't mean to take it out on you, you did nothing wrong. My apologies. I suppose it would be rude of me to lay this all you before I give you any type of background explanation, so let me explain.......uh, er, let me sum up. Life has been less than amazing, more than frustrating, and all around exhausting. Family: Crazy/Complicated. Work: Monotonous and Unfullfilling. Personal: Terribly Lacking. Yep, all players are here and accounted for! Brace yourselves, I am about to get SUPER girly here. I am bummed out that I am not one of those girls that can make guys fumble and drool over themselves. Alright, yea I get it. I am not 6 feet tall, with legs for days and perfectly toned arms, and skin color that looks like I live on some island and have some type of "goddess-esque" air about me. But that's just it, I've NEVER been "that" girl. It has either a) never occurred to me before or, b) never bothered me before. Oh how I long for the days when I was blissfully unaware of what a plain-jane-dud-poison-to-men-girl I really am!

Debi made a comment to me, something on the lines of "do you think you are possibly one of those girls that always attracts guys?" And of course, my reaction was major denial, and laughter. (side note: I do not know how to receive compliments. You tell me my hair looks good, I'll tell you it's really dirty and disgusting. It's apparently a "problem") But my reaction was genuine. I don't think I am one of "those" girls who always seems to have a guy totally vibing on her. However, let's all be honest ladies, I think we all WANT to be that girl. And, in my case, even though I knew it wasn't true, I think I secretly thought maybe in SOME way, shape, or form, in an alternate universe, I was in fact one of those girls! Or at least, had the potential to become one. Crazy, I know. Geez Amanda, how do you fit thru doors with that ego of yours?!?? But then that got me thinking about all the supporting males that have been cast in the "love" section of my life and I have come to a very simple verdict. None of them have actually liked me. Now, don't go feeling all sorry for me or think that I'm just fishing for a compliment. Don't, and I'm not, honestly. Maybe this is just my insecurities talking, but there is that chance that I am unlikable. When I take a closer look, most of the so called relationships that I have had, have been played out mostly in me ole noggin. Maybe, just maybe things that go unsaid, aren't the most impactful simple truths that are the hardest to say, and need to be clung to like the last boat off the Titanic. Maybe they weren't said because they weren't there, they weren't felt. Simple as that.

It has been a very long while since I was told "I like you." And, I don't care how dependant you are, or how in order your life is, or anything else. Those three sweet words can do something truly beautiful to you. It's like a shift in the earth, now there is somebody who has studied you, looked you over, took much thought, and allowed its heart to attach itself to you and all your nonsense that makes up you. They are willing to look over all the mess and are willing to put themselves out on a line and confess that which can never really be taken back. They are sincerely intrigued by you. You feel like something, because someone else has picked you out. That feeling is matched by very few things in this world. But, oh wait, wait, wait there Ms. Kula!

When is the last time you've said those very words to someone? Yea, it's been awhile since that one too.

Hey all the fellas out there that truly want to help a girl out. I could use some advice here!

The Insufferable Child on the 4th Floor!

4J is PUSHING their luck! BIG TIME! Riddle me this: what kind of idiots who birth an obnoxiously loud spawn that does not have any other type of movement octave besides stomping, decide to rent an apartment on any floor above ground level? What kind of evil master minds do that??!? This little 3-4 year old beast that lives right above me does NOTHING but run and stomp from one end of the apartment, to the other, all the live long day! So there is no escaping it. If I am home and he is home, there is no where that I can go to get away from the psychotic tyrant that inhabits the space above me!

And seriously parents, what is the matter with you? Growing up we were never, let me repeat for emphasis, NEVER allowed to run in the house. And we didn't even have downstairs neighbors! Running in the house was not gonna fly with Sue Kula, uh-uh, no way! That, and slamming doors, and if she called you, you were not just supposed to shout "what?", you needed to go and see what she wanted. The parents living upstairs apparently have no concept of respect, kindness, or even proper apartment living etiquette'! Shame on them for not knowing or caring! By the sound of it, you are hoping to rear your child to become a dictator of some sort, judging by the way you excuse (encourage?) the stomps coming out of little feet. That brings up another point, he is such a small child, how is it physically possible for so much noise to be coming from something so small??

And somehow my roomie is completely un-phased by all the hub-bub upstairs. I don't know how that is even possible, maybe she is a robot. Great, so I have a stomping monster upstairs, and a mechanically engineered "thing" living with me. But anyways, my robot roomie says that it would be rude or "unnecessary" for me to be the little old lady that I desperately want to be and take out a stick and bang the daylights (ha!) out of my ceiling aka-their floor to let them know that I have HAD IT! And to knock it off! Rude? Really? THAT would be rude? Not the fact that their child's refusal to walk lightly like a normal human isn't rude? Me no compute that. I feel like a gentle reminder that there is a freakin' park right across the street, where homeboy can run his little heart out, is a nice, neighborly thing to do. You know how there is the Better Business Bureau, to keep businesses in check when they start thinking they do no wrong? I feel like initiating a Better Upstairs Neighbor Bureau, that can come in and shut them down when they be acting like straight fools! That seems like a lot of work. Is getting a law passed that occupants with children are only allowed to live in bottom floor apartments for the happiness and well-being of all, any easier? Or maybe I could somehow kindly let myself into the place when they are not home, this is not considered "breaking in" if it's for the right reason-I have that on good authority, and somehow lay down sound reducing padding across their entire apartment! Because folks, all Amanda wants to hear is the pidder padder of little feet, not the stomps of a T-Rex man baby monstrosity! Kula OUT!

It's 10 O'Clock, Do You Know Where Your Roommate Is?

I must confess, I am slightly worried. It is precisely 10:12 pm on a Tuesday night, and my roommate is no where to be found! So strange! Considering that around this same time last night she was sound asleep. I know this because I too may have been passed out hard close around that time as well. (No need for judgement. I love my sleep thank you very much. And am unbelievably proud that I strive to get the suggested amount of 8+ hours a night. Don't be jealous!)

I mean what could she possibly be doing? And why am I slightly jealous? I have this unsettling need to go out as well. Be a woman about town at 10:30 on a Tuesday night. I can see myself now, walking around this great city, totaling throwing caution to the wind about having an early morning tomorrow! I could be wild too! Oh! Is that how it's gonna be roommate? Are you trying to one up me??!!? You think your so cool cause you have plans on a week night? Your SO awesome cause you don't immediately start yawning like clock work at 11 pm? Hm! You better thank your LUCKY STARS that I just so happen to be exhausted beyond belief and have no plan to get out of my lovely and comfortable bed. Because if I wasn't, OH! Watch out girl! I can tear up a weekday night like no body's 'BIDNAS!

PS- I also had a thought that you are stranded in the park somewhere, or being chased by a crazy person, or stuck in an elevator or the train for hours without a bathroom or food. I really hope that is not true. Please don't be dead! Now I really do hope that you are living it up on the rooftop of the Waldorf shaking your tail feather with Vin Diesel or somebody. Please be having fun! But not too much fun, and just know that I could be having fun too on a Tuesday night-Your Have NO Idea!

Catalogs and Calculations

Random- [ran-duhm] adjective: proceeding, made, or occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern

List- [list] noun: a series of names or other items written or printed together in a meaningful grouping or sequence so as to constitute a record

Old vs New

• Old- Own bedroom with a door!
• New- Finally a big, comfy, much needed bed (Amanda like:))
  
• Old- The best shower head ever! I LOVE great water pressure
• New- Wi-fi. Meaning I can be anywhere in the house and be able to watch every episode of Toddlers and Tiaras that Netflix has to offer! (stop judging! I'm conducting a study on how psychotic parent's can be and this is part of my research!)
• Old- Never having to buy toilet paper or paper towel. (Roommate's got that Cosco card yo!)
• New- Right across the street from the park. Actually in my territory. Closer to just about everyone else.
  
• Old- Super close to work and Trader Joe's, and just about every train.
• New- Super cheap rent.
• Old- Skylight! And cable! Great neighbors!
• New- No time limit required!

Thought: is it add-ress? or ah-dress? Is my inner Midwest girl coming out?

Wishlist

• Start taking my vitamins again. As much as I hate to admit this, I sadly will not be forever young:( So I need to start tricking my body that it is and to hold on to our youth with the magic beans that are Chewable Flintstones vitamins!
• Read my magazines before the start of the month
• Get proper footwear for this coming winter in the city. Winter wet shoes. Winter dry shoes. Winter boots. Winter dress shoes. Winter dress boots.
  
• My dream job. (Please, please, please, please, plea......)
• Rediscover my inner domestic goodness. Get back in touch with my Nigella Lawson side. Have dinner parties!
  

I have just shy of 10 years left until I'm 30! Holy snikies! When did that happen???? Oh my goodness. I feel like I still have SO much I wanna do.....and now there is a time factor.....before I'm old and busted....and now I'm depressed.

Isabella: I love you so much. I hope you know that. Without you in my life I would have never known what it means to be an aunt to someone. To take care of someone, to look after them, and watch them grow. We kinda grew up together you and me. You came into my life when I was 14, and there is where you will forever stay no matter the distance between us. I hope for you to grow up a beautiful girl that focuses more on the inside then the exterior. Make opinions and feelings, and stick to your guns, be a little left of center-it's okay to be different (you will have a lot more fun that way) Don't forget the difference between right and wrong. I know some in your life will try to blur the lines between the two, but do what's right, no matter how hard that may be. Understand and apply what the words truth and honesty mean. Surround yourself with loving people who make you want to be a better person but who also stick to you during the ugly moments of life. Don't be afraid to be sad or scared or worried, or mad, but don't wallow in those emotions forever. Try everything in your power to be happy. Laugh (from deep down in your gut) every single day! Try to the best of your ability to find the good in people, and situations. Don't carry the weight of the world with you. Enjoy being a kid now, this is the only time you can be, and trust me, there will come a day when you will want to be 6 years old again SO BAD! I know things are a little rough right now, but keep that head up girl. Know that I think about you every day, and miss you like crazy. No matter what happens in life, know that you are genuinely loved by your family because you changed our world's forever. I never knew I could love someone I just met as much as I love you. Your my favorite ding-dong! And if you ever need to run away, you are ALWAYS welcomed to New York City to crash with your way cool aunt! I love you like I love farts baby doll! Here's to hoping to seeing you soon...

I Think We Should Go On a Break..

Let me just start out by saying that I love people. I really and truly do. I mean how big of a hypocrite would I be if I, a die hard Barbra Streisand fan, did not live by the mantra of "people who need people, are the luckiest people in the world!"?!?! That would be so very, very uncool of me to sing out those words, but not actually feel them. I want to do good ole Babs justice! Make her proud! People are the bread and butter of life! They make my world go round!

However, (ehem)......I think we need a break from each other. You know I love you, but lately I think our relationship has just turned toxic. More and more of you are becoming unbelievably rude and obnoxious, and so many different levels of annoying it makes my skin crawl. Whatever happened to common courtesy? Taking on more responsibility at work is not helping the situation. Having to talk to attorney after attorney, who are so high up their own butts it is any wonder they even know what fresh air smells like, really makes my day go so deep down into the pits I come out the other end looking and feeling like Eeyore. Listen up jerk wad! You are an idiot! We provide services for YOU, not the other way around. Tell me, is it really that difficult for you to tell me what address you are currently occupying? You don't even have to say that. All you need to say is Yes, or No to the address I just rambled off. You don't give out that type of info? REALLY?!?!?! How do your clients EVER find you, if you never tell anyone your address? You do realize I can just Google you right? What a genius you are to have passed the BAR but can't figured out how to use Google! You sir are a MORON! And I hereby delete you from our client list! Yea, that just happened! What are you gonna do about it? NOTHING, cause I won't give you my address! :P

Living in this city I think is adding to the pressure. I'm starting to feel it's not good to have so many people shoved and on top of each other in such a small square mile. My faith in humanity is very slowly seeping out of me with every backpack that touches me on the train, every person who suddenly stops short on the sidewalk, every person who shouts obscenities down my block at 3 am on a Tuesday night, and the countless rude things that come flying out of people's face flappers all the live long day! I just can't take it anymore. I barely had any patience to begin with, but all this extra crap is stretching that little bit, to it's absolute max! We are running on fumes here people! FUMES!

That is why I am suggesting a break. I know that I do love you, real deep down in my gut, or heart, or butt, or wherever. But right now, I just can't stand the sight of you. I know I want to spend forever with you. But right now, I need you as far away as possible. Just give me a little space to clear my head and to relearn all those reasons why I love you so much. So let's just leave it as a: I'll see you when I see you:)