For love.
Simple answer.
I could be a workaholic. I go in early, stay late, get into fits where I work from home. Even when I am on vacation, I'll still log in and at least check my emails so my inbox isn't so frightening when I return to the office. I've had many employee reviews where I was told that I needed to exercise more of my vacation time. And I always blew it off because I hated taking off and coming back to a giant pile of paperwork.
And then Geoff came for a visit. I planned a few days off before he got in because he was my friend whom I had not seen in 13 years and I wanted to take him to the beaches and other tourist-y stuff around here. Of course once he arrived, things fell into place and we began to immediately make plans to make this long distance work. We set up a schedule of rotating visits (which have not worked at all according to plan) every few months. I have a great vacation schedule at work since I've been there many, many years however his vacation schedule is horrible. So we compromised and I do a lot more of the traveling.
I've now seen New England in every season. Southwest Airlines is a saved favorite website. I get emails from a bunch of different travel savings websites to confirm I'm getting the best deal. I'm a total pro at packing and going through the airport security lines. I have music playlists for the plane and usually have at least one tv show downloaded on my Ipod to watch. I always make sure I have a couple dollars to tip the Sky Cab people who take care of my luggage curbside so I don't have to stand in the line inside the airport.
So my travels now are based in love. Could be worse I guess!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Krista - My Favorite Mistake
Blah, blah, blah - by now you know the story - met Geoff, fell in love, he broke my heart - cue 13 years later he realizes that he made a mistake and we fall in love all over again. You've heard the story, you see the happy ending, you no longer care - and that's okay!
So I'm going to tell a different story. And it's a long one. So be forewarned. When Geoff and I split up, I had to do some thing different. And for about a year and a half, I went a little wild. Ok, a lot wild. I had always, always been a good girl. I went out with my best friend, spent lots of time at a cigar pub called Grumpy's, met new people, dated (or didn't) other guys and had major amounts of fun. I swore I wouldn't fall in love with anyone ever again. Not worth the risk.
And then I met Jeff. I know, I know - same name, but at least spelled differently. But that wasn't the only coincidence. They also had a birthday one day apart. And that was where the similarities ended. I met Jeff at a bar. My best friend and I were out at a place that was becoming a new favorite, and I was totally checking out Jeff's friend. Then a fly flew up into his beer and he very nonchalantly drank the beer real man style without blinking. I looked at him like he was insane and he just grinned at me and made some corny joke. I don't know why, but it made me laugh. We found out that it was the bartender's birthday so I asked him if he wanted to join us in singing "Happy Birthday" to the barkeep. And so began the misadventures of Jeff and Krista.
I was his first real relationship. He had dated of course, but never been in love. It was endearing, watching him stumble over the words the first time he said them to me, like he wasn't sure if he knew them. Jeff was a charmer. He could make anyone feel like they'd been friends for years, and part of how he prepped for this role was by drinking. And drinking lots. But I was 21-22 years old. I didn't understand the grip alcohol already had on him. His nickname at all of the bars was Norm. At first he would wait until noon to have a drink. Then, there would be a "special occasion" which would require him to drink earlier. And since for the first 6 months of our relationship, he did not have a driver's license thanks to a DUI I took on the responsibility of driving us everywhere. We went on a cruise together with a group of friends, and since he worked for the cruise line, he got a major discount on drinks. He spent $350 on drinks on that cruise - with his 50% discount. On a weekend cruise, he drank almost $700 worth of alcohol. And yes, I helped some but I was not a big drinker so my portion of that was minimal.
His father passed away in June of that year. Geoff lived with his dad and it was a bad time. But I was there by his side, helping him keep it together as much as possible. July 4th of that same year, he asked me to marry him. And of course I said yes. We were foolish enough to think that spending the rest of our lives together was a good idea. And we started that plan off by deciding to get married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator while wearing jeans, white tank tops and birkenstocks. On a Friday the 13th. We were all about the party and the fun. Never taking life too seriously.
Something changed though. I became increasingly aware that getting married meant growing up. Which meant that our lifestyle might have to change. I was in school, trying to figure out what I was going to do for the rest of my life and there he was still drinking like we were at a party every night. So I would get angry, but being 22 years old meant I didn't know the right way to talk things out. I was not blameless. I wasn't pleasant. I was petty, and hot headed, and stubborn, and pushed the buttons, and eventually I pushed the wrong one. We broke up.
I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I barely went to classes. And when I did, I would invariably leave early. I'd thought that he and I would spend our lives together. He wanted to remain friends, but I couldn't do it. We tried to get together and hang out a few times but I needed the clean break. I ran into his best friend about 6 months after we broke up and he told me that Jeff was drinking more than ever and was in bad shape. My heart hurt for him but I knew there was nothing more I could do.
Several years later my best friend and I went to the bar where he and I met on a whim. We were playing a round of pool with another friend, when I felt a tap on my shoulder and there he was. We talked for a few minutes. I showed him a picture of my son and we agreed it was nice catching up. No more resentment or hard feelings. He was a stranger to me. Just a boy I used to love.
In September, 2009, I went on a cruise with my sister. It wasn't the first time I had been back on a cruise since going with him, but for some reason I could not stop thinking about him. Everywhere I went reminded me of our trip. So after I got home I decided to look him up on Facebook. Jeff had passed away the day before I looked him up at the age of 36. Even though it had been almost 10 years since we'd met an loved each other, I was devastated. I cried for the life we didn't have. I cried for the man I fell for, and I cried for the man he eventually became. Our relationship taught me so many things. And I'll always be grateful to him for those lessons. And I think he was also probably grateful for the lessons I taught him.
When I love, I love fully. And losing him at 22 was devastating. And even though he was no longer mine, losing out the opportunity to have one more beer for old times hurt just as much. Maybe in another life we can.
And that's the very long story of the man who broke my heart after Geoff.
I don't have many old pictures anymore, but I've always loved this one of us...and I take full blame for his bleached blond hair - but in all fairness, he asked for it!
So I'm going to tell a different story. And it's a long one. So be forewarned. When Geoff and I split up, I had to do some thing different. And for about a year and a half, I went a little wild. Ok, a lot wild. I had always, always been a good girl. I went out with my best friend, spent lots of time at a cigar pub called Grumpy's, met new people, dated (or didn't) other guys and had major amounts of fun. I swore I wouldn't fall in love with anyone ever again. Not worth the risk.
And then I met Jeff. I know, I know - same name, but at least spelled differently. But that wasn't the only coincidence. They also had a birthday one day apart. And that was where the similarities ended. I met Jeff at a bar. My best friend and I were out at a place that was becoming a new favorite, and I was totally checking out Jeff's friend. Then a fly flew up into his beer and he very nonchalantly drank the beer real man style without blinking. I looked at him like he was insane and he just grinned at me and made some corny joke. I don't know why, but it made me laugh. We found out that it was the bartender's birthday so I asked him if he wanted to join us in singing "Happy Birthday" to the barkeep. And so began the misadventures of Jeff and Krista.
I was his first real relationship. He had dated of course, but never been in love. It was endearing, watching him stumble over the words the first time he said them to me, like he wasn't sure if he knew them. Jeff was a charmer. He could make anyone feel like they'd been friends for years, and part of how he prepped for this role was by drinking. And drinking lots. But I was 21-22 years old. I didn't understand the grip alcohol already had on him. His nickname at all of the bars was Norm. At first he would wait until noon to have a drink. Then, there would be a "special occasion" which would require him to drink earlier. And since for the first 6 months of our relationship, he did not have a driver's license thanks to a DUI I took on the responsibility of driving us everywhere. We went on a cruise together with a group of friends, and since he worked for the cruise line, he got a major discount on drinks. He spent $350 on drinks on that cruise - with his 50% discount. On a weekend cruise, he drank almost $700 worth of alcohol. And yes, I helped some but I was not a big drinker so my portion of that was minimal.
His father passed away in June of that year. Geoff lived with his dad and it was a bad time. But I was there by his side, helping him keep it together as much as possible. July 4th of that same year, he asked me to marry him. And of course I said yes. We were foolish enough to think that spending the rest of our lives together was a good idea. And we started that plan off by deciding to get married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator while wearing jeans, white tank tops and birkenstocks. On a Friday the 13th. We were all about the party and the fun. Never taking life too seriously.
Something changed though. I became increasingly aware that getting married meant growing up. Which meant that our lifestyle might have to change. I was in school, trying to figure out what I was going to do for the rest of my life and there he was still drinking like we were at a party every night. So I would get angry, but being 22 years old meant I didn't know the right way to talk things out. I was not blameless. I wasn't pleasant. I was petty, and hot headed, and stubborn, and pushed the buttons, and eventually I pushed the wrong one. We broke up.
I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I barely went to classes. And when I did, I would invariably leave early. I'd thought that he and I would spend our lives together. He wanted to remain friends, but I couldn't do it. We tried to get together and hang out a few times but I needed the clean break. I ran into his best friend about 6 months after we broke up and he told me that Jeff was drinking more than ever and was in bad shape. My heart hurt for him but I knew there was nothing more I could do.
Several years later my best friend and I went to the bar where he and I met on a whim. We were playing a round of pool with another friend, when I felt a tap on my shoulder and there he was. We talked for a few minutes. I showed him a picture of my son and we agreed it was nice catching up. No more resentment or hard feelings. He was a stranger to me. Just a boy I used to love.
In September, 2009, I went on a cruise with my sister. It wasn't the first time I had been back on a cruise since going with him, but for some reason I could not stop thinking about him. Everywhere I went reminded me of our trip. So after I got home I decided to look him up on Facebook. Jeff had passed away the day before I looked him up at the age of 36. Even though it had been almost 10 years since we'd met an loved each other, I was devastated. I cried for the life we didn't have. I cried for the man I fell for, and I cried for the man he eventually became. Our relationship taught me so many things. And I'll always be grateful to him for those lessons. And I think he was also probably grateful for the lessons I taught him.
When I love, I love fully. And losing him at 22 was devastating. And even though he was no longer mine, losing out the opportunity to have one more beer for old times hurt just as much. Maybe in another life we can.
And that's the very long story of the man who broke my heart after Geoff.
I don't have many old pictures anymore, but I've always loved this one of us...and I take full blame for his bleached blond hair - but in all fairness, he asked for it!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Krista - Bad Smooches
It's my fault - I found the list of topics and said I would go down them one by one. I'm supposed to write about my worst kiss.
Don't hate me, but I've been seriously racking my brain and I can not for the life of me think of any bad kisses. I've been seriously blessed in the lip locking department (even if they weren't great boyfriends).
I even went through the old diary to see if I could dig up any bad memories and the closest I've been able to come up with was a kiss I shared with a guy at a Jaycee's dance in junior high. I still wrote it was a good kiss, but very awkward because we had to sneak it in when the chaperones weren't looking. Although, thinking back, all the kisses in junior high and early high school were probably not as good as I remember them. It's a simple matter of experience. When you don't really have any, kissing seems great no matter what.
Dear god, now as I am recalling when I started kissing I've realized my son is only a few years away from these same experiences. I think I'll choose to live in denial.
Don't hate me, but I've been seriously racking my brain and I can not for the life of me think of any bad kisses. I've been seriously blessed in the lip locking department (even if they weren't great boyfriends).
I even went through the old diary to see if I could dig up any bad memories and the closest I've been able to come up with was a kiss I shared with a guy at a Jaycee's dance in junior high. I still wrote it was a good kiss, but very awkward because we had to sneak it in when the chaperones weren't looking. Although, thinking back, all the kisses in junior high and early high school were probably not as good as I remember them. It's a simple matter of experience. When you don't really have any, kissing seems great no matter what.
Dear god, now as I am recalling when I started kissing I've realized my son is only a few years away from these same experiences. I think I'll choose to live in denial.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Krista - First Kiss
Laugh away people - it's the diary which holds all my secrets from the time I was 12 until the time I graduated from high school. This diary starts in 1989, and the story I am about to share is recounted within...because even though I remembered the who of the first kiss, the details were a little fuzzy.
Fall, 1989. Fifth grade. I am the luckiest girl in the class because I am going out with James Chambers. James Chambers was the cutest boy in our grade. He had spiky blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. It was apparently my turn to be his girlfriend that week - as he was so adorable, I think all the girls "went out" with him. And I use the term loosely because we were 11.
So my 11 year old self with my stupid permed hair is at recess with my class. James and I are holding hands, when he leans over and kisses me on the lips. Just a peck, but enough to qualify it as my very first kiss. 2 days later, he breaks up with me.
So my first kiss also goes down in history as my first heartbreak. I think it worked out just fine, since I'd rather just kiss Geoff for the rest of my life <3
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Krista - The Purple Ribbon
Alzheimers Graphics
I'm not going to dazzle you with facts and figures because you can google these yourself. What I will explain is how very personal this cause is to me.
My grandfather was my hero growing up. He was intelligent, handsome, charming, and a good person. He is a Korean War vet, retired from the US Air Force. He worked out at the Cape on the space shuttle program before retiring. And he doted on me. We fought of course, as family does, mostly about politics and religion but we were always up for a healthy debate. And when I became more politically conservative, my grandfather was so excited you would have thought I was running for president myself. He could discuss anything at all - throw a topic out there and we could talk for hours. My grandmother would beg us to stop talking sometimes so she could get some peace and quiet!
Right around the time I became pregnant with my son, he started slipping. He couldn't quite remember things the way he used to. He would stutter and get confused about who was around him, or what year it was. My grandmother was convinced St John's Wort for his memory would make it all better, but of course it did not.
After my son was born, my grandfather held him and told me he was very sad. When I asked why, he said "Because I'll never get to see him grow up".
My heart gets broken on a daily basis when I see the stranger that has taken over my grandfather. He no longer speaks clearly. He hasn't said my name since my son was very little. Although, one day a little over a month ago he looked at me and said "I love you" for the first time in years. But that was a fleeting moment, since it has yet to be repeated. He sits in a chair and sleeps most of the day. He can no longer feed himself, bathe himself, or get dressed. This wonderful and amazing man wears diapers so that he doesn't make messes because he no longer has the ability to tell us when he needs to go.
I miss him so much.
I pray that one day there is an effective treatment or cure for this disease. I never want anyone to feel this way seeing your loved ones become a person who has no clue who you are, when once upon a time, this person thought you hung the moon and stars.
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