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a thanksgiving list

23 Nov

Here is a Thanksgiving list of ten of my favorite things in no particular order, maybe:

10. Watercolor. I’ve been painting a lot lately. I have an Etsy shop now, and I’ve made four sales! If I decide to sell it, my November work will be listed some time next month. Though it flatters me to be commissioned, it’s not one of my favorite things. The pressure of specific peoples’ expectations is tremendous!

9. Fall. I love Fall. Winter used to be my favorite season, but I realize now that Fall is so much better. It’s all the buildup of the Christmas season and none of the letdown. New Year’s Day is probably the most depressing holiday.

8. Netflix. TV with no commercials is my favorite kind of TV. It bugs me that I can’t catch the next season of Showtime’s Homeland on Netflix and that it only has the first season of Jane the Virgin, but in two days the world will be blessed with four more extra long episodes of Gilmore Girls, and that makes up for a lot. Also, I’m noticing that all of my favorite things so far have ended with a slightly negative comment, but I have to share now that I’ve been having, like, real anxiety about the new Gilmore Girls. First, it’s going to end. Again. Second, it will be different. It has to be, right? And I’m worried it will feel different and I’ll feel separate from it. A separate I’ve never felt with them before. Ugh. But I’m still mostly excited.

7. The Internet. I wish that the Internet was what it is now when I was in high school. I feel like I could have been better. With today’s Internet then, I could have cared less about being liked. I mean, I still would have cared, but it wouldn’t be so bad if I felt disliked, because there would have been a lot of people online who thought I was cool for it, I think. If they were there when I was in high school, there was still too big a chance they were Internet creepos Degrassi taught me to avoid.

6. Bubble Tea. Boba is good. I probably drink/eat too much of it. Bubble tea has been my special treat for, like, two years straight. Maybe three. We should get together some time and spend approximately fifteen minutes chatting over boba, kay?

5. My church. I like my church a lot. I feel like I could spend more time there than I do. It’s pretty much Christmastime, and it’s always so beautiful then. There’s always something more I could be doing to get involved and be closer to God, in general. That’s all.

4. Date nights! Daniel and I had the most amazing date last weekend. Time alone together now is extremely rare, so it is so wonderful when we get it and can truly connect. Also, the food was so good AND we got bubble tea after.

3. People. Sort of. I know most of the time it seems I’m trying to avoid them, and I am, but there are a small few I actually really like. I cancel plans, take too long to reply to text messages, and I’m a terrible friend. Still, these are the people in my life with whom I feel pretty close.

2. Milo. You know. He knows.

1. Daniel, duh. He’s so patient and kind and loving when I’m too often terse and annoyed. It is not lost on me how incredibly lucky I am to have been married to this man for three years!

 

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even after all these years

11 Mar

Six years ago, over pizza at the mall, I agreed to be Daniel’s girlfriend. While I weighed the consequences of either decision, I realized my hands were on his arm like they’d been there before. I was hesitant, but not really, and I think he knew we’d be together. I’ve always felt so much a part of him. Even more, now. Can’t imagine anything better. (Except us with more cats.)

don’t take these boots off me

1 Mar

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The show just ended, and it was so amazing and I am so happy and I wish it lasted forever and it was perfect, I could cry.

better to be safe

27 Feb

Read Part 1
Read Part 2

He poured a cup of coffee and pushed it across the table for me. He sat down with his and stared.

“Pete,” I said, calmly, apologetically patronizing. I ran my finger over the rim of my mug, and Peter continued to stare. He usually hated when I did that, but he didn’t flinch. He was afraid of germs, of bacteria from our hands killing us through our mouths. He was afraid of radiation from the microwave. When heating food, he’d stand a good ten feet away until the third beep signaling its time was up. Better to be safe, he’d say. He was afraid of becoming Jeff who was happy and kind and passionate, who had big dreams, and left his family in pursuit of them.

“I don’t actually hate you, Pete.”

He nodded, because he knew. He sipped his coffee, waiting for more.

“And I never wanted you dead,” I said. “You know that, too.”

He looked at me for the first time all day. His eyes, somehow, almost smiling. Peter wasn’t happy. That had been clear for a while. He made sure to stay consistently low, always most deserving, in the room, of praise or pity, either suiting him just fine. Two days ago, he accepted a part-time job at Abby’s school when the counselor went into labor seven weeks early. “They were in a bind,” he said. “What was I supposed to do?” I drank my coffee and smiled back at Peter, content now that I seemed fine, that his family was under the roof of the home he’d provided through his successes at the firm. Upstairs, Abby’s bedroom door opened. Little feet bounded toward us, and stopped just short of an inch from mine. She brought my ear to her mouth and whispered, “Daddy loves you.”

and tell you sorry for the mess

19 Feb

retroblog thursday

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February 26th, 2009

Hello, self. I just wanted to let you know that it is quite possible that I am in like with Daniel C. He is so nice, and friendly, and tall, and has a sweet smile. It’s exciting to think about the possibility of him liking me too.

Princess thought he liked me. She mentioned it first. After church that Friday, a group of us went to Big City Diner for a late night meal. There was live music by the Saloon Pilots.

One time, I was looking past Daniel at the band. And when I was turning around to face the table again, I caught him looking at me. We made eye contact for a split second before we both turned away. I was embarrassed… for him, for me, for thinking that it could mean something more than what it probably was.

But it was more than just that one moment that made me feel something for this guy. It was the way he always knew I was there. He saw me, and that was just really nice. On the Tuesday after that, some of us went to town to catch a 3-D movie. Daniel was there. We sat beside together in the theater, and before the movie started, we turned to look at each other with our 3-D glasses on. We laughed.

That was my favorite part of the night.

I thought about him all week. I had butterflies all week, and I was already counting the days until they disappeared. That night I dreamt The X wanted to store some things in my house. I made him wait until I cleared my room of anything I didn’t want him seeing. Then I guess I let him in. Guess I let him leave his things. I know now what it meant.

sweetest valentimez

14 Feb

In a few hours, Daniel and I will be having one of those fancy Valentine sunset dinners where we get slightly more dressed up and gaze at each other all longingly. We slept in this morning to make it a real special day. I like when we’re just lying around, talking about whatever. That’s the best. Zuko’s been enjoying our lazy Saturday as well.

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And last night we ate s’mores fudge and watched Ghost on Netflix. Best Valentine EVER!

really terrible things

13 Feb

Of the six or seven really terrible things I said to Peter that night, even more than “I hate you” or “I wished you died in that accident,” when I pushed a dish off the kitchen counter and muttered that he’s becoming more and more like his brother, I knew I’d crossed a line. Shards of glass scattered over the tile beside the oven, and for a second we were both still.
“I’ll get that,” he said, reaching for the dustpan under the sink. “And go to hell.”
He knelt to the floor to sweep up the glass, and I grabbed my keys and left.

We were fifteen when we met, stupid kids without a clue. He asked a friend of a friend to tell me I was cute, so when I recognized him in the hall the next morning I walked right up to him, dropped my books on the ground so he’d turn around, and kissed him. Right on the lips. Right outside of third period Geometry. He was tall and skinny with messy brown hair and surprisingly soft lips slightly parted in bewilderment. “I’m Maya,” I said gathering my things. “And why don’t you tell me yourself?”