These thoughts were inspired today, when I realized that this Saturday is July 4th. It’s been my favorite holiday for a long time, and while I was walking to the gym this afternoon, I realized that not only was this Saturday July 4th, but that it is also 2009. You see, when I was a kid, or a teenager really, I dreamed of getting married on July 4th. In fact, I loved it so much that I signed on to my AOL dial up connection (SN: QTCait15 at the time…) to look up a calendar to find out in which years July 4th would fall on a Saturday, because clearly I would be getting married on a Saturday. I remember finding 2009 and quickly doing the calculations in my head, realizing that I would be 25 on July 4th, 2009, and therefore the perfect age to get married. So this Saturday is my wedding day…except it’s not.

When we’re kids, I feel like it’s easy to dream up these futures where everything works out just as we intend. At the ripe old age of 13 or so, I could certainly imagine that I would graduate high school, go on to college, go on to law school, and at some point meet someone that I wanted to marry, all by the time I was 25. In reality, anyone reading this knows that isn’t what has happened at all. I’m only now finishing up my B.S., I have a degree in acting, I live in NYC with two friends, I’ll be applying to law school starting this fall, and my last “real” relationship ended nearly four years ago. I’ve traveled alone and with friends, started to learn a new language, gone for a run on the beach in Spain, climbed a mountain in Switzerland and been to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I haven’t, however, gotten married.

And here’s the thing, everywhere I look, I feel like I’m supposed to want to go back and change all of this. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve seen a blur of bad movies here in Santo Domingo because of my limited English options (including The Family Man with the perpetually-awful Nic Cage and Ghosts of Girlfriends Past with rivalingly-bad Matt McConaughy), but everything around me hints at the idea that having a great love is better than all the other things I’ve done. I see these movies and hear these stories about how differently lives can go when a person makes the wrong choice, leaving their One True Love to go off and follow another dream, forever regretting their choice and wondering What Could Have Been. Granted, they’re movies, but they’re also our culture. They’re the reason I was 13 and planning a potential wedding that was more than a decade away.

But you know what I felt today when I realized that Saturday is my wedding day? I felt happy—like really-truly-fill-me-up-from-the-bottom-of-my-feet- happy. Four and a half years ago I was practically planning a wedding with someone who, at the time, was The One. But I chose the other way. And it sucked, for a long time. A really long time. And there were days that I thought, if my life were a movie, I would wake up in the future, living this unfulfilled life, and realize that I needed another shot with that person if I ever wanted to feel fulfilled. Somehow all that pop culture, fairy tale romance wedged its way far enough into my broken heart to make me feel like flying solo wasn’t enough.
When I went away by myself for the first time, a friend asked me why I was going along. He couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to wait to go with an unknown future lover, or with a best friend, but the truth was, I just wanted to be able to do it on my own. And that’s how I’ve always been. And for a long, long time, I didn’t know if that was okay.

But here I am, knowing with every ounce of my being, that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. And I might not being walking down the aisle on Saturday. I might not be walking down the aisle for a very very long time, or even maybe (gasp, all of you) NEVER. But I am full. I am happy and content and sure in the fact that I am making the right choices. So Saturday, on my favorite day of the year, and a day I have unconsciously been anticipating for more than ten years, I am going to crank up the music, dance, eat, and bask in the glory of contentedness. And I guarantee the food will be better than anything I’ve ever eaten at a wedding reception anyway.

It's been a year since I last blogged. Absolutely nothing interesting has happened to me whatsoever in that year, so I'll just leave it as that--a one year gap.

The only reason I'm blogging now is because I'm on a little personal adventure/journey, and I thought I'd keep track of it electronically rather than writing it down.

The short story is, I'm fat...again. Since I moved back to New York, I've gained just under a pound a month. That's not so bad, right? Well, I moved back 4 years ago. That puts me at 40 lbs heavier than when I moved here in January 2005. I'm still not comfortable even talking about how much I weigh, so I'm not going to go into that, but suffice to say I have to do SOMETHING. Now granted, I'm 5'10", so 40 lbs on me is sort of like 20 lbs on a smaller person. I've only gone up about 2 sizes and I'm by no means gigantic. But I *hate* looking and feeling this way.

I've struggled with my weight my whole life. I've never been obese, but I've also never been thin. I remember going on my first diet when I was in 5th grade..so that made me, like, 10 years old, I think. I started running then, hoping that I would shed pounds and I did. I went through the cycle of losing a bit and gaining it back after that, again in 8th grade, again my junior year of high school (during which I spent about 3 months eating an apple a day and working out about 3 hours a day until I threw up and passed out one day during show choir rehearsal), again during my freshman year at NYU when I joined Weight Watchers and lost about 50 lbs and yet again when I moved back to Indy from Chicago. Wow--I've never written all of that out before. I know it's not healthy to yo-yo like this and I want nothing more than to just be healthy and to feel good about myself. Clearly I know how to lose weight, but I just don't know how to keep it off and that's the hardest and scariest part.

I want to do this for so many reasons. I have a lot of issues that might lead to someone having weight problems (not physical ones, but things in my past), but I don't want to let those things rule my life. I need to relinquish control of the things over which I have no power and to get on track with the things I CAN control--like my eating habits. I want to feel good about myself. I want to run another marathon. I want to (eventually) be able to get married and (maybe) have kids and run around with them. I want to have fun shopping. I don't want to wake up at 50 and realize I've been doing this my entire life.

So, enough of the sob story. The point of this entry is that as of today, I'm on Day 3 of an organic cleanse by a company called Standard Process. It was recommended to me by my aunt (a dentist who is very into all of this) and my cousin (who is a nutritionist). They each do it twice a year just to clean themselves out. For me, it's about really forcing myself to look at my eating habits, my cravings and my weakspots so that I can understand how to begin to tackle this problem. I know that the basic principle of weight loss is creating a calorie deficit, but that sounds SO much more simple than it really ends up being for me. I have (what I feel at the time to be) insurmountable cravings for foods at really random times. I love to eat at night. I'm awful at portion control. I've recently (because of my schedule and laziness) become addicted to junk food to the point that I don't even think about what I'm putting in my body.

This cleanse is NOT about a quick fix at all. Clearly, I may lose some weight doing it, but more than anything, I want to detox my body of all of its addictions. I think it will help me start making smart decisions again. No matter how busy I am, I CAN make good decisions--I just have to relearn how to do it.

Here is the link to what I'm doing: http://www.standardprocess.com/display/psppurification.spi

For the first 10 days, I'm only eating fruits, veggies and a bit of brown rice or lentils. I know it doesn't sound like much, but I also take about 30 pills a day and use a powder supplement in my shakes in the morning to make sure I'm getting nutrients. I'm not getting a lot of protein this week, but apparently that is okay. I also can add some whey protein to my shakes if I feel like I need it. So far, I haven't.

I'm going to do my best to put up something about what I'm eating and how I'm feeling every day. Clearly I'm already behind schedule, but I can tell you about days 1 and 2 now.

Day 1--Wednesday
I was not feeling well in the morning. This is pretty typical of how I feel in the mornings lately, because I usually end up eating some crappy food and staying up way too late. Night eating is rough for me and always makes me feel gross in the morning. So this morning I woke up ready to put to use all those good veggies I bought on Tuesday night. In the mornings and evenings, I'm having a banana and spinach shake with the supplement powder from Standard Process (SP). I know that a banana spinach shake does not sound appetizing, but I PROMISE you that if you have any trouble getting in your veggies, this is great way to do it. I use a couple handfuls of raw spinach, one banana, a couple ice cubes and some water (and whatever supplements you want to add). I was tipped off on this by my cousin and I haven't looked back. It's so GOOD.

Throughout the day, I kept going with the fruits and veggies and lots of water. I didn't feel hungry, but I had a headache and felt grouchy most of the day. I really did feel depressed. I think I let food dictate a lot of my happiness--and I use it in response to mood swings too.

As a part of the program, I'm also supposed to do physical work to detoxify. I'm not supposed to do hard workouts, but just 30 minutes, 4 times per week, of walking or biking. Basically, I need to break a sweat but not use up the few calories I'm eating. I did 30 minutes on the bike today at the gym and felt good. I also sat in the sauna for about 20 minutes (another great way to sweat it out). That was excellent and I plan to continue that throughout the process.

Wednesday night I had my rice with some diced tomatoes and grilled portobello mushrooms. I went to bed feeling alright.

Day 2--Thursday

I have to say that I woke up Thursday feeling fantastic. I thought I'd be miserable, but I felt really good--already cleaner than I usually do. I also had a pretty easy day at school, so I ended up using the afternoon to book a massage and do another sauna. I know it sounds like I'm pampering myself, but to a certain extent, I know that I have to start putting myself first in some things. I overcommit to EVERYTHING and EVERYONE and I don't take any time for me, leaving me feeling sad. A lot of that is tied to my eating habits and I think if I can be a little bit selfish during this learning process, I'll learn more about myself.

Last night I stayed up a bit late because I went to a movie with friends and didn't get home until around midnight. Normally, as embarrassing as this is, I would probably have eaten a full meal at this point (even if I'd already had dinner). It was difficult to sit on the couch a bit before bed and not be eating anything, but I got through it and had an apple. It's not that I can't EVER eat late or order pizza or whatever, but at the same time I'm someone who has been doing that a lot more than "occasionally."


That's all for now. It's Day 3 now and I feel good this morning. The scale is already reflecting the cleanse, although that isn't the goal. I think my body is probably in shock, not having eaten any crappy foods for 2.5 days. That's pretty sad, but it's the truth. This weekend will be difficult because a friend of mine is here from Finland and I'm planning on seeing her and her friends. I also have a lot of school work to do and outings both Friday and Saturday nights. I also know that I might be in a honeymoon period with all of this and could potentially crash in the next couple of days as my body keeps getting rid of all this bad stuff. For now, though, I'm hanging in there.

More tomorrow...

I used to actually maintain a LiveJournal? I've gotten a bit inspired by my sister who is currently living in Ireland for the next couple months and teaching some high schoolers that are probably as hot as that 15 year old in Notes on a Scandal--anyone? Anyone? Brandon, I know you're feeling me.

So, my life the last 3 months. I've been working like crazy at the "new" job (see old posts for all that info) and hate it, but it's letting me do more at school. I broke up with my therapist, which was interesting and fairly liberating. I have been elected to student government at my school and helped host a bunch of events there, and I've finally put together something of a roadmap for the next year to 18 months of my life.

We're on the same page now, right? Something like that. Things that haven't changed: I'm still living with Brandon, although we're apartment hunting at the moment for a super hip place in Brooklyn. I'm still single, but not really having any problems with it. I'm still desperate to find out what I'm meant to do in life, but I'm managing to get by day-to-day.

I hate to say it, but that might actually be all I need to say. I mean, there's plenty of things that have happened to me, but I'm going to try to ease my way back into this.

I exited the subway just outside the New York City municipal building and the streets were lined with NYPD patrolmen. Metal gates guided pedestrian traffic, preventing the regular jay-walkers from crossing in the middle of Lafayette Street. I paused for a moment, frowning as I tried to determine what exactly could be going on near City Hall. A cloud of red, white and blue balloons floated by and my heart swelled. It was election day, and this morning, I had cast my first vote as a New Yorker. Growing up in the Midwest, my vote, as a registered democrat, had rarely made much of a difference. But today, this day, I had a voice. I began walking to my office, a small smile on my face and a skip in my step. I was a part of history—and look at these crowds! They all wanted to be a part of history, too!
I waited at the corner to cross the street and I heard a loud group approach the intersection behind me.
“GO GIANTS!” one of the men yelled.
“Go Giants?” I thought. “Go Giants?! You mean to tell me this brisk sense of excitement in the air, those balloons floating by, the happy men, women and children flooding the streets aren’t a part of gathering for one of the most historic primaries of our time, but instead for a football team?”
Now let me explain, before anyone calls me a liberal, football-hating non-American. I love football. I love sports in general. In my veins pumps the blood of a diehard fan. I scream louder than most women I know at sporting events, and I’ve been known to go on long runs or drives (a trait I inherited from my own father) when my team, my boys, fall to an opponent.
But why on this day? The Giants won the best Superbowl game in recent history on Sunday, and I fully enjoyed an evening of beer and pizza and general revelry. But today, election day, I am more excited, more inspired than I have been or will be by any sporting event. Today, 8 million New Yorkers (not to mention the other millions of people across the state and country) are being handed an opportunity. This is our fourth quarter, and until we can get people as excited about politics as they are about the Superbowl, I fear that we will not make the right choice.
When this country declared its independence from Britain, Thomas Jefferson wrote the words, “Mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.”
It is their duty—their responsibility, their moral and ethical obligation—to provide guards for their future security. In other words, as Americans, we are obligated to care. We’re required to take an active role in the decision-making process for this country, and the most basic way in which to do this is to vote. Civic responsibility has forever been an underlying theme of our democratic government. The founding fathers first fought their native country, and then fought amongst each other to determine the best way to lay out the country’s government. Should the emphasis be placed on the small community or the federal government? Should states maintain their freedoms or should a central government unite the states as one nation?
Because so many people lack an understanding of the historic forming of our country, and because so many immigrants are ignored, rather than embraced and enveloped into the history of our nation, citizens are left alone, maintaining a state of apathy toward the nation and the fundamental process that gives them their freedoms on a daily basis.
As Americans, our most deeply ingrained right, a right we fought to earn for decades and even centuries, is the right to voice our opinion—to have our say in what happens in this country.
Some people argue that although voting is a right, it is not a requirement. I couldn’t disagree more. This most basic level of patriotism is an ethical responsibility to any person who wants to enjoy the freedoms that are allowed in this country.
I am tired of bipartisanship; I’m tired of only those with extreme wealth running for and gaining offices; but more than anything, I’m tired of looking around me and seeing thousands of people with no opinion. Choose to believe in something. Choose to put that belief out there, and choose to make every effort you can to learn more. Choose to embrace your civic duty as an American.

After the hooplah of the parade, I was on the train heading uptown. Sitting near me were two well-dressed men reading the New York Times. Another man sat near them. He wore an oversized black jacket and tattered jeans; they wore expensive suits. He didn’t seem to have showered that morning; their hair was freshly gelled. The man in the jacket held a Hillary Clinton flyer in his hand.
“Do you think she’d be a good president?” he leaned over and asked one of the men.
“I do.”
“Do you think she’d help the homeless?” he asked again.
“I think she would. Yes,” the well-dressed man nodded.
“Because I’m homeless, and I’d sure like a President that will help do something about it.”

I was staring at my own newspaper when this exchange happened and tears actually came to my eyes when I heard him say this. So many people need help. So many people, here, in our own “great” country are struggling to eat or pay bills or to get a job. I believe that America doesn’t have to be this way and today, I did something about it. I voted. The question is: Did you?

Tonight, I'm celebrating our anniversary. I've been involved in this volatile love affair for three years now, and sometimes it seems like just yesterday that it all began.

There have certainly been times that I've questioned whether this relationship is good for me. Though I've never cheated, I've strayed emotionally. I don't think it's about perfection, though, and this relationship has certainly taught me that. I'm 100% myself, and that's more than I've been able to say in most of my other love stories.

Three years ago, it all sort of came out of nowhere. I was torn between this and someone else. That someone else is a wonderful memory, but ultimately, I had to choose. I'll always wonder, but I suppose that happens to everyone, right? You'll always wonder what your life would be if you'd chosen a different path. Where would you be living? What would you be doing? Ultimately, you have to be secure in your choices.

I don't think I'm quite ready to commit. I know, three years is a long time, but I think we'll both be ready to move on here soon. Every time I think I've made up my mind to break away, something brings me back. I don't think anything will every compare or ever replace this for me, but there are other things I need to do before I settle.

Three years ago, I had no idea what I'd be doing tonight. I got on a plane, against my better judgment at the time, and flew away from everything and everyone I knew and loved. But here I am, three years later, with a small lifetime of experiences between then and now.

And so tonight, as I open this bottle of wine, alone in my apartment, and light a candle at the dinner table, I raise my glass to you, New York City. Without you, I wouldn't be who I am today and no matter what happens in our future, you were a true love of my life. Cheers to you, and happy anniversary.

As of Friday, I no longer officially work at my old job. It was my last full-time day, though I'll be there a lot over the next three weeks, preparing for a conference and tying up loose ends. I definitely still have plenty to do, but it is strange knowing that I am actually done.

Tomorrow, despite the holiday, I'm going into my new job to help kick off a project that I'll be working on for the next few weeks. I met with my office manager last week, and saw a lot of my old coworkers for the first time in a year or more. Everyone seemed really happy to see me, which is a great feeling--to be appreciated that way. While the job isn't something that is necessarily relevant to my future career path, it is a learning experience that can be valuable. I'm very lucky that everything lined up the way it did.

Early in the week, I wrote an email to my therapist. As of this month, I've been in therapy at least a couple times a month for two years. There have been times that I've gone weekly and times I've only gone twice a month. Throughout my relationship with my therapist, there have been days that I feel like it is an invaluable 45 minutes and other days that I've felt like it was a total waste of time. That's normal I think. Over the last few weeks, with my job situation getting worked out, and with finishing up last semester, I've started to wonder if I'm ready to move on from weekly therapy. I've felt this way in the past at times, but I've never really been in a "good" place to do it. Plus, my insurance has covered nearly the entire cost for the last 18 months, so there's been no real reason to walk away. I would and have recommended therapy to anybody.

Starting in February, I'll no longer be on the insurance I had through my job. School insurance is going to be incredibly reasonable and will cover my basic costs--but it won't cover therapy. This is why I originally started thinking about moving on anyway. The new program will cover up to 20 visits a year, but only with an in-network therapist. This was the impetus to beginning to consider how to proceed. I'm already taking out a loan for school and I'm not sure I want to eat the costs of therapy, when I'm feeling the way I am.

It's amazing the changes that have taken place in me since I began two years ago. I've built this skill set that helps me deal with problems that arise. In early 2006, so much was going on, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I had no idea what I was doing with my life, and I'd had some negative influences around that made me question myself even more. Looking at myself now, coming out of a semester at school where I got great grades and made contact with my dean and academic coordinator, both who have asked me to take part in several school activities, and really paving my own way here, I finally feel like I'm in a place to "go it alone" and see what happens. I have a pretty clear path laid out before me, and I'm so excited to start accomplishing even more of the goals I've set. I met with her Friday and she was so much more receptive to the idea than I originally thought she would be. She explained that sometimes people are ready to "graduate" from therapy for a while--that I can come back to it when I'm ready or I feel I need it. I'll be meeting with her the next couple weeks and then in February, I'll probably be moving on.

I've applied for an internship this coming summer with Teach for America. The organization hosts its summer training institutes at various locations across the country, one of which is in NYC. The position is for an operations coordinator, which basically means coordinating the event behind the scenes--something I've been doing for the last couple years at my current job and for even longer in my personal and volunteer life. If I get it, I'm not sure what it will mean for my job, but I'm crossing that bridge when I get to it. I don't see how I could pass it up, since I hope to do TFA after I graduate. Then again, accepting the position might delay my graduation by a summer, therefore delaying my opportunity to get going as an actual TFA corps member. Lots to think about, I guess, but I have to just take it a day at a time. I'll continue doing research on the program and looking at sites to which I might like to apply.

Originally I thought I'd be applying to do TFA in Indianapolis. They're expanding to IPS in the fall of 2008, which would make me the second class to go through, assuming I started in Fall 2009. I don't, by any means, need to make the decision yet. I honestly would never choose Indianapolis, if it weren't for my family. I do miss seeing them more regularly and I have a lot of friends in the area still. I'm just not sure whether I'm ready to give up living somewhere else for a couple years. I've only lived in Indy, Chicago, and NYC. How can I not live some other places? So now, the place I'm really drawn to is Denver. I didn't realize they were a TFA region until I started doing research on the internship and what sites I might want to visit. Colorado features so many of the things that I'm looking for, and I think that living west would be great for me. There's a theatre scene, an outdoor element that I long for, and an overall more laid back lifestyle that would be a wonderful shift from the New York scene.

I'm excited to see what starts happening for me over the next few months. Who wants to go to Denver?

So as of this past Tuesday, I can officially walk on my own again.  I get to wear this awesome giant boot that makes almost as much noise as crutches and actually is just as uncomfortable.  It's good to give my armpits a rest, though.  

Last night, I was on the subway heading to meet some friends for happy hour (2008's theme, more pleasure...this equals more happy hours) and I was reading the book I just started, The End of America: Letter of Warning to a Young Patriot by Naomi Wolf.  I'll talk about the book in a minute, but I was standing there and a man tapped me on the arm.

He was sitting and I was leaning against one of the poles.  He asked to see my book.  Really, the book is a pretty left-wing view of the fascist trends in the current administration and modern government.  It focuses on ten steps that are seen in a democracy that is beginning to lean toward fascism and Naomi Wolf, the author, cites specific incidents in current American government that suggest that lean is happening in America.  He read the back of the book and asked me how it was.  I explained to him that I wasn't sold on it by any means yet, but that it was interesting.  

His whole thing was whether it talked about the decline of common courtesy in society and the rise of vulgarity in news and entertainment, etc.  I explained to him that it wasn't really about all that, but it got us onto that topic and I sort of nodded my head while he talked about how all he hears is vulgar rap music and sees this thug culture taking over America's youth.  I didn't jump on the rap music bandwagon, because while it isn't my thing, there are some elements to it that I understand, and I wasn't about to get into a racial discussion with some random dude on the subway.  

We started talking about the midwest, about the differences and the similarities.  He asked if I noticed a difference when he heard I was from Indianapolis.  Of course I notice a difference.  Things certainly happen a lot slower in Indiana, especially when you get to smaller towns and suburbs.  He had a conference call with someone in Batesville, which made me laugh, because it's probably the tiniest town ever, so of course it's going to be different.  He kept saying that even as a native New Yorker, he's never felt like he was really where he was meant to be--that people here just aren't kind to each other the way he thinks people should be.  He notices a blatant disregard of respect amongst people.  I told him I could definitely identify with that, that I'd lived in Chicago and had seen such a difference, and that I planned on eventually leaving New York.  He said his name was Steve and shook my hand and was just all-around really pleasant.

But here's the thing.  I'm wearing this giant boot on my foot, right?  And no, it doesn't really hurt me to be standing.  I have a little pain in my toe, but that's about it.  And no, I don't really need to sit down.  But we're talking--talking about people being kind and courteous and respectful, and I'm standing there in a boot--fully exposed, while he's sitting in a subway seat.  As we approached his stop, he says, "Well Caitlin, you have a really kind charm about you.  Good luck with everything.  Oh, you should take my seat when I get up."

Seriously, asshole?  Thanks for thinking of me.  I bet he'd give parenting advice to a pregnant woman standing on the subway, too.

In one week, I'll no longer be an employee of the company I've been at for the last year and a half.  Granted, a year and a half really isn't very long in the scheme of things, but this is the most "real" job I've ever had.  I'll be going back to the student lifestyle--irregular work and class schedules, late nights, more freedom.  I'm honestly not sure whether I'm looking forward to it or dreading it.  There will certainly be an adjustment period, but I definitely feel I'm making the right decision for me.

Home was craziness--but a very mellow craziness.  I'm still off my foot, so I did a lot of sitting around, DVD watching, football watching, etc.  A lot of the things I didn't get to do while I was super busy with school.  I put off my final paper until the day it was due so I wrote that on New Years Eve day.  For being as stressed as I was all semester, I did pretty damn well--3 A's and 1 A-.  Damn that A-.  Leaves a little room for improvement I guess?

I didn't freak out when I had to come back this time.  Most of the reason I wasn't looking forward to my return to the city was my busted foot.  For those of you who don't know, I live on the 5th floor of a walk-up.  That alone--minus the busy streets, cab rides and subways--makes for a miserable disabled state.  I'm getting pretty strong from the crutches, but am also looking VERY forward to being able to say goodbye to them next week.  As the days went on in Indiana, I would have weak moments--thinking about how much easier it would be to just stay there.  I have all these connections, all these people that I like having in my life.  You know those moments when you meet someone new and have some kind of connection with them, or just have fun being around them?  I feel like I have those all the time when I'm in Indiana and they're few and far between in New York.  A big part of that is that I've just been too busy to really let myself live out here for the last few months.  Of course when I have down time, I'm going to be more social and fun.  But I think a lot of it is the differences in lifestyle, too.  There are things I want in my life that aren't conducive to here really--a home, a family, kids, etc.  I don't want them now, but they're important to be in my 10-15 year plan for sure.  On the other side of things, I think I've let myself lose hold of a few of the reasons I've wanted to live here--the culture, the art, the people, the freedom, the grit.  I completely appreciate all those things as a part of me now and no matter where I end up, I'll carry them with me.

I think I've just been pushing myself too hard at the end of this last semester.  I was busy with work and school and it throws me into this existential crisis of "what the hell am I doing with myself" or "who am I supposed to be."  Ultimately, I think those things will work themselves out.  I can tell my friends at home that I will move back soon--that I hate New York and that I miss being in a relationship.  I can connect with someone and hope that he is going to be some powerful magnetic force in my life, but really, I don't have any control over all of that.  If I stop pushing on myself so hard, and stop pushing for other people to be what I want them to be, I think I can find real happiness.  So for 2008, my goal is to just feel good--to experience all different kinds and textures and levels of pleasure.  If this is my last year in New York, I want to enjoy it.  And if it isn't, so what?  What am I doing wasting my time when in 10 years I might be in the midwest, looking back, thinking, "You know, Caitlin? You really should have gone out more and met more people and tried more food and run around more."  I don't want to be that way--I want to appreciate every moment and stage in my life as the place I'm meant to be at that time.  So instead of looking into the future as I always do, I'm going to start appreciating and gratifying each moment as much as I can.

But I'm still shooting for a 4.0.

Well I certainly haven't been so great about blogging in the last couple of months.  I guess that's generally the way it goes with me.  When I do something, I like to do it really well, so if I can't come up with something profound to write, I just avoid it.  I think I do that with a lot of things.

I'm writing at 2:00 am on December 27th because I can't sleep.  Lots of things have gone on since I've really updated anyone who might read this.  I've decided to leave my job and my last day will be January 18th.  I certainly wasn't planning on such a quick move, but I got a call from my old job, which I didn't exactly love, but I liked alright, and they asked me to name my price to come back.  I told them I couldn't do full time, but when they offered part-time at pretty decent money, I couldn't pass it up.  I'll still have to borrow money for school, but not nearly as much as I would have to if I weren't working.  I'll have a big loan when this is done, but I'll be out of credit card debt and will just need to make one large monthly payment to Sallie Mae.  She sucks.

I had foot surgery on December 20th on what is called a tailor's bunion.  Yeah, gross, I know.  I hate my feet and I think that's the general sentiment amongst most of my friends, family and any men I've been involved with, so in the long run, this will make everyone happier.  They had to take a slice of bone out of my 5th metatarsal (No clue if that's spelled correctly) and another slice out of my baby toe.  There are two screws there now and a large cast on my leg.  I think my stubbornness manifests itself whenever I have injuries, because for some reason I start assuming that I know better than the doctor and like to perform minor surgery on casts and bandages to make myself more comfortable.  Right now, this cast makes me feel miserable and claustrophobic and hot.  It fits uncomfortably and it's next to impossible to shower even though I use a plastic bag.  I'm not an idiot--I won't put any weight on it--I just need something a bit more flexible.  I'm saying prayers that at my appointment tomorrow my doctor offers to cut it off.

On December 22nd I went to Connecticut with some relatives to celebrate Christmas.  I couldn't go home yet, because of the surgery, so this was the next best option.  I did get a bit of cabin fever, just because I would have loved to be out in the fresh air, hiking and throwing snow balls, but it was a much needed break anyway.  It was topped off my cousin Sean entertaining all of us in the van by talking through his double Whopper on the drive home--it sounds lame, but there will probably be YouTube evidence exemplifying the contrary soon.  With work and school in full force the last few weeks, I needed a minute to breathe.  Speaking of school, so far I have two As turned in.  Now I'm waiting on my history grade and I still have to turn in a paper that I've been putting off for political theory.  I should be well on my way to a 4.0.

I honestly haven't had a minute to stop and think since the beginning of December.  Now, having down time, I'm thinking more and more about what my plans are and what I want to pursue in this next year.  I think Alyssa's wedding really threw me and then having surgery and trying to finish school work and going to Connecticut and quitting my job just sent me on this crazy spin.  I am clearly capable of handling plenty of things by myself.   I vary daily or weekly over whether I'm better off doing all these things alone or whether I'd like someone around to help out.  I just don't know.  I guess I don't really have a choice at the moment--you don't just decide that Mr. Perfect should show up.  I should just go with the flow, I know, everyone keeps telling me that.  But I can't help how I feel and I know it's a pain in the ass, but this is how I feel.  I know I'm whiny and picky and wishy washy, but I like to think I have enough redeeming qualities that make up for that.  I can't figure out why I'm like this--everyone else my age seems to be a lot more together in terms of knowing what they want--at least out of relationships with the opposite sex.  Wow, I'm totally overwhelmingly emotional and talkative about relationships, aren't I?  I'll get over it.

But, just one question.  Why the hell are there all the dating websites doing advertising so much right now?  Do people make new years' resolutions to find their mates--through the internet??  Like, "January 1st, what to do?  I never keep that resolution to get really hot, so I guess I'll just try to find a husband on the internet."  Dear God let that not be my future.

This weekend, one of my best friends in the world got married.  I was home for the wedding.  It was the first time I've ever been in a wedding, and it was the first time someone I'm really close to got married.  What a strange experience!  I think I was almost as nervous as she was--I just couldn't believe it was actually happening.  It's funny, but when I listened to her vows, I couldn't help but think, have I EVER felt that way about someone before?  I mean, I did love Dustin and I felt those things for a while, but they faded when I moved--so were they not real in the first place?  

For all the talking I do about being lonely and wishing I had someone, I was just blindsided by the weight of the emotions that they have for eachother.  I mean, granted, its a wedding and vows are meant to sound sweet and romantic and mushy and all that--but to really mean it, to mean that I know we're going to go through some really really crappy stuff together, but you're the person I choose to make it work with.  You're the person I want to be my best friend and I want to fight with when the time to fight comes.  I just thought it was really beautiful and it made me completely rethink about what exactly it means to be in love.  I'm always looking to be swept off my feet.  I meet a guy and my head will go, automatically, to "I wonder if he is it...Could this guy be THE ONE."  Here's the thing, as much as I do believe in soulmates and the fact that certain people come into our lives for reasons, maybe I have a skewed view of what it means to be in a real partnership with someone.  Maybe rather than looking for butterflies and fireworks, I should just be looking for the things that are really important, like trust, and respect and security.  I think sometimes that I want a project--I want to be a guy's whole world and I want to solve all his problems because I'm just that amazing.  I don't worry about myself in that kind of partnership, because it's almost easier to be selfless and hope that one day he'll realize that you're his everything.  But I don't think I want to be someone's everything anymore.  I think I'm pretty fantastic and I think waiting around for someone else to figure that out might be a silly waste of my time.  

When I watch Alyssa and Justin, they're no different than they were before they were together (or at least Alyssa isn't--I didn't know Justin).  But she's just found her partner--her person that she wants to live a life with.  It doesn't mean he's going to sweep her away and she's never going to worry again or they're always going to be perfect.  They're just a team when it comes to those hardships.  To me, that lasts a lot longer than butterflies anyway.

All that said, I was either the greatest bridesmaid ever, or the craziest--maybe both.  I didn't stop dancing all night.  The kids loved me--in fact, I'm pretty sure an 11 year old had a really big crush on me, so watch out boys.  I ended up making several snow angels in my gown all over Terre Haute--one of the benefits of the booze keeping me warm.  It was really a great weekend and I caught the bouquet, which is something I've always wanted to do.  It was a great time for reflection and a beautiful ceremony, followed by a night of debauchery.  If you're my friend, and you're reading this, you definitely want to invite me to your wedding--I make great speeches and I'm the worlds-best leader of the chicken dance.