my so-called life

My non-Wedding Day

2009-06-30T21:43:09Z

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.

So it's been a year..

2009-03-06T16:55:58Z

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...

Remember when...

2008-03-26T19:15:38Z

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.

A Part of History

2008-02-06T05:26:25Z

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?

Anniversary

2008-01-22T03:32:31Z

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.

Times, they are a changin'

2008-01-21T01:31:03Z

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?

"I have always relied on the kindness of strangers"

2008-01-17T17:06:56Z

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.

On the horizon

2008-01-10T20:23:06Z

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.

Christmas in Connecticut

2007-12-27T07:37:08Z

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.

Bridesmaids and Snow Angels

2007-12-17T20:03:42Z

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.

Climbing back on the pogo stick

2007-11-28T19:36:42Z

Last night, my darling dear friend Jene came over after classes to help jump-start my new workout routine. I find it fairly pathetic that at this time last year, I was doing 16 mile runs in preparation for my marathon. Now I run less than a mile and am winded. Let me tell you, it is not fun. Anyone who tells you that getting back into exercise is like riding a bike is lying to you. Flat out lying. It is more like relearning to use a pogo stick--which I was never good at in the first place.

I've never been thin in my entire life. I've been in shape, but never ever thin. I'm not sure of what my body is even capable of being. I know that I can be in much better shape than I am currently, but I don't feel like I've ever reached what I consider to be an ideal weight. Now, I'm not going to go into detail about what I weigh or how much I want to lose or any of that--but suffice to say that I've been a lot heavier than I am right now, and I've been a lot lighter too. I prefer lighter--call me crazy.

So one of my dear friends from high school is getting married in three weeks, and I've known that for a year. I've known that I would have to strap on the old bridesmaid dress and sing and all that. When it came time to order the dress, I looked at the two sizes that I sat between, and chose the smaller one. I figured it would be a good motivator and I wasn't THAT far off from the size that it would matter. The dress came in a couple weeks ago, and apparently the month of binge eating I did before receiving that dress did more harm than I realized. I can wear it and everything, but I wouldn't call it pretty. So between the dress, the fact that I have to sing Ave Maria in front of 200 people, and my date being the guy who took the v-card of me, a fellow bridesmaid AND the bride, I feel a little bit of pressure to look good.

My stress and emotions the last few months haven't helped me take care of myself. I am a stress eater. I'm also a bored eater, happy eater, depressed eater, and several other kinds of eaters that I can't think of at the moment. I've been known to eat entire pizzas, bags of chips, pints of ice cream, etc. alone. Yeah, I'm not proud of it, but what can I say? I'm an overachiever. For me, the key to eating well has always been rooted in exercise. If I don't exercise, I have a very hard time eating well. I've often told myself that I will add the exercise back in once I start eating correctly, but that doesn't work for me. When I'm working out, I don't have the desire to spoil its positive benefits by binging on junk food. I also don't feel so bad and enter a "shame spiral", as Mikey would say, of eating everything in sight for days after just one bad meal. I can justify ordering chinese food once a week, or having an extra slice of pizza, without feeling like I will look like a blimp the next day.

Today, it took me an extra long time to walk down my 5 flights. Part of that was the rockin' stiletto boots I'm wearing today, but most of it came from the fact that my legs feel like lead. You know what I realize, though, every time I start working out? I'm never as badly off as I go in thinking I am. I was doing between an 8-10 minute mile pace during all the intervals, which for me, isn't great, but it's certainly not bad after a 4 month hiatus. We did plyos, planks, sprints, intervals and a few more elements of torture that Jene cooked up. She's a rock star and helped a bunch of kids at fat camp last summer, so she can TOTALLY help me.

So as of this week, I'm back on the pogo stick. Maybe someday soon, I'll recover my mad pogo-sticking skills. That being said, if you see me with a donut, take it, kick me in the shins, and run away.

Turkey Daze

2007-11-21T17:00:33Z

As of this morning, I have been able to crawl out from the piles and piles of reading and homework and exams under which I've been stuck for the last week and a half.

Last night I took my poly sci midterm and this morning I printed and handed in my paper to the history department. I still have homework to get done over the break, but I'm free and clear for the next couple of days.

Things have been better around here. I've registered for the maximum number of courses next semester, which will certainly make things interesting. I can't get on school insurance until March 1, so I'm definitely at my job until February at least. The financial difference between leaving in March and leaving in June isn't huge, and I could probably make up for it with a part time job. I'm going to last as long as I can, because I enjoy planning the spring events. We'll see what happens, but for now, I'm taking it a day at a time.

So, because tomorrow is one of my two favorite holidays of the year, and because I'll be here in the city instead of at home with my family, I'm going to take a minute to shout out to everyone I'm not going to be seeing and to be thankful for all the great things in my life.

I'm thankful for my parents who put up with so much from me and who believe in me more than I think I will ever believe in myself. They are two of the most incredible people I have ever known and I hope to make them proud.

I'm thankful for my wonderful, beautiful, talented sisters who I miss every day. I know there have been times I've made their lives hell, but I wouldn't change any of them for anything. They are an absolute gift and I'm excited to watch them grow up and to be an awesome aunt to their kids who will be amazing.

I'm thankful for my Mam-ma and Pap-pa, my Grandma, and all my 17 aunts and uncles, my 19 first-cousins and my countless second-cousins. I've been blessed with a giant, beautiful family.

I'm thankful for my dear roommate Brandon. He makes me absolutely crazy, but thank God for that, because if he weren't around, I'd go bad crazy instead of good crazy. He's been a rock for me in New York and I can't thank him enough.

I'm thankful for Alli--for having her here in NYC as my only real family. She's more of a sister than a cousin, and I'm so glad we've had the opportunity to become as close as we have.

I'm thankful for all my New York friends: Darien, James, Danielle, Eric, Andrew, Richard, Charlie, Anish, Erik, Jene, Shay, and all my JackRabbits, all the softball guys/gals, all those crazy kids who decided to run 26.2 with me in January, the kind people who have befriended me at school and at work--and I'm sure I missed a few. If I weren't surrounded by a lot of these people, the last month would have been even more difficult. No matter how alone I feel sometimes, I know I'm not. If I do leave New York in the next couple years, I will always have a special place in my heart for all the people that have been a part of this journey with me.

I'm thankful for all my friends back home--the ones I still talk to daily and the ones I haven't talked to in a long time--Alyssa, Mike, Mary, Joe, Barrett, Jamie, Cody, Brooke, Blake, Kerry, Rob, Beth, Joe R., Kevin, and many more that I know I'm leaving out. I think about all of you and love knowing what's happening in your lives. I know we're all "growing up", but I hope that I will always carry a piece of each of you with me.

I'm thankful for my therapist, who has kept me sane for almost 2 years.

I'm thankful for my hairdresser, Tina, who chopped my hair off on Sunday and made me feel about 1 million times better about myself and then gave me free product too.

I'm thankful that in 2007 I've learned that I can love with a full heart, because even if it gets broken, I'll bounce back. That I've learned what's important to me and to pursue those things instead of pushing them away. I'm glad that I've learned to be more open and honest.

I'm thankful that tomorrow, though I won't be with relatives, I'll be surrounded by my family.

Have a happy Thanksgiving.

Coincident

2007-11-12T19:23:08Z

So it's pretty coincidental (but not ironic) that after Friday's post about how much I'm NOT a quitter, I'm writing today's post about how much I want to quit.

Show of hands of people who have REALLY wanted to quit a job?

I know a lot of it is the realization that I probably AM going to quit within the next 6 months or so. It's like I've made this awesome decision but can't really tell anyone about it or do anything about it. I can imagine it's sort of what the first trimester of being pregnant is like (Don't ask my why I'm using that comparison. I'm a complete freak.). You know something exciting is going to happen, but in this exact moment, there's nothing to be done about it. I know, that by the end of June, at the latest, I will be out of my job and either doing my AH internship or taking a full course load at Baruch--either of which is ridiculously more exciting than what I'm doing right now. I'm trying to be patient and just accept that next few months will be difficult, but manageable.

So I'm not sure if it is coincidental or not that things seem to get worse by the week. I don't know if I'm just noticing them more than before, or if my attitude is bringing them about. All I know, is I'll be damned if my job didn't get a whole lot less tolerable in the last week and a half. I adore the people I work with. Or at least all but 1 or 2 of them. As people, they are fantastic. I just don't particularly enjoy working with them. I like to think I've been pretty good at this job. Or at least I was pretty good until I stopped caring. Even now that I don't care, I still think I'm carrying my weight and getting the things done that I'm supposed to do. Now, though, every single thing I do gets picked over by people that aren't "over me" in any way. We have two more staff than we did when I started, and I don't know if the extra people means that they have more time to get into other people's business or what, but I find myself reduced to basically an accountant in a job that was supposed to have me out meeting with people and learning about the inner-workings of the city. To be honest, I don't really give a shit anymore about those parts that were supposed to happen, because I no longer have an interest in them, but to sit at a computer entering checks all day is not exactly the most fulfilling use of my time. If everything I do is going to be wrong or not enough in their eyes, then screw doing it. I'm just going to get by for the next few months. I'm not going to burn any bridges, but I'm certainly not going to get excited about projects and go above and beyond the call of duty. I can't wait to see people's reactions when we get to the parts of my job that I actually enjoy--like the spring events. I am an awesome project organizer--no one who knows me professionally will deny that, and if my toes start getting stepped all over, I am absolutely going to stand my ground based on experience. That is one department I feel like I have that right in.

Countdown to Q-Day: 7 months-ish

Quitter

2007-11-09T16:25:06Z

There's lot of discussion right now, between me and everyone (and by everyone, I mean that I'm at the point that I'm ready to stop people on the street to ask their opinions) about whether I want to continue working full time while going to school. After doing a "degree audit" of sorts, to see where I am in the process, it looks like I'll be in school for three more years if I continue at the current rate. The current rate is 4 classes a semester and then two over the summer--which means I'm in class from 5:45-9:30 Monday thru Thursday, all summer. I'd be done in the Fall semester of 2010 at this pace. I realize that three years, in the grand scheme of life, isn't that long, God willing. My current situation, though, is that I'm in a job without much room for growth and my interest in it is waning.

Originally, I took the job because it meant I'd have more responsibility and would be learning about New York City government in the process. I've learned a lot this year, but a lot of my job is tied up in administrative work that is important, but far from interesting. I'm also making more money than I think I could be at almost any other job with my level of education. I don't take the decision to leave my job and borrow money lightly, and I don't want people to think I'm making decisions on a whim.

I've been in New York for almost three years now. I know that isn't a ton of time, but I also think that at 24, it is a substantial amount of my adult life. I'm not sure if people at home, including my family, really understand how much I've changed in that time. I think that when people hear me talking about quitting my job they automatically judge me based on the fact that I left NYU and I left Chicago. The frustrating part of that for me, is that those decisions I made when I was 19 years old. For one year of my life, I was absolutely all over the place--mentally and geographically. NY, Indy, and Chicago all within one year. After that, though, I settled down a bit. I did know that I wanted to get back to New York and do the acting thing. I started researching, I worked full time, and I did five shows in the matter of just a few months. I had a steady boyfriend, job and life. When I moved to New York, some things were up in the air because of my relationship, but aside from that, I was pretty secure. I never said, going into acting school, that I was going to be a professional actor. I was encouraged by school and thought I'd give it a shot, but I always said that I wanted more. When I got out of school I worked full time at a steady job and auditioned. Then a new job happened to sort of fall in my lap and I took it. My point of explaining all this, is that I haven't quit anything in years. I know that I get uncomfortable and I like freedom to move around and explore new options. But I'm not going to apologize for it, because it's me. I stopped running a long time ago, and even though I still get the urge sometimes, I've grown up enough to understand how to deal with those feelings rather than just taking off.

I have a lot to think about over the next couple of months. My interests in New York are starting to fade, and when I see that I could be free, with a college degree, to move somewhere else--somewhere closer to home, I want to be able to make that happen. If the difference is 1.5 years vs. 3 years, I feel like it is a legitimate concern to consider. There's a big difference between quitting something and being a Quitter. I think that I'll ultimately make the right decision for myself from an informed viewpoint.

I hope that if I do end up back at home, or closer to it, I'll be able to prove to my family and friends that I'm actually pretty damn together and that I've grown up a lot since I was 19. I know I hurt and confused a lot of people with my indecision over that year, but I'm not that person anymore. I'm not a quitter.

Fig Tree

2007-11-05T17:40:58Z

Thanks to my sister for the email she sent me this morning. I really want to pick the right fig.

" I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose."
-Slyvia Plath

I really want to pick the right fig.

Acceptance

2007-11-02T18:25:28Z

I didn't realize that knowing what you actually want can be more empowering than all the degrees and awards and recognition you've pursued your entire life. It's all about letting go.

The stuff of life

2007-11-01T17:58:50Z

I want to briefly say that I don't in any way mean to worry or concern anyone when I write entries like I did yesterday. I've had a couple of "Friends Only" entries in the last week, and I've made them public because A) not many people read this anyway and B) I don't think that people who are my friends will think any less of me for having these feelings. If random people read it who don't know me very well, I'm okay with that because I'd rather just be honest than try to maintain a different personality for show. This is a rough patch, but it is one that will hopefully chew me up and spit me back out as a better person. I have to come to terms with the things I actually want, rather than the things I think other people want me to want. Did that make sense?

I don't have any regrets about being in New York. It has opened my eyes to a world that I wanted for my whole life. I think I'm just hitting a point where I might be ready to move on. Unfortunately, that overlapped with me getting a very inexpensive education at an institution in New York. I do have options in terms of school, but I'm not sure that I want to exercise them because of the financial issues. If it got bad enough, I'd do it. But it certainly isn't that bad right now. I've started going to church again, because I've missed it. And as much as my 13 year-old self would kick my 24 year-old self in the shins for saying it, it makes a world of difference in my life. I know many of my friends here aren't religious or even spiritual, but I know that I have an absolute belief in something bigger than us. I grew up Catholic and I like going to Mass because it's the same everywhere and it feels like home to me. It just helps. My point here, is that I do believe that I can hand some of this stress and anxiety over to Him/Her and I'll feel a lot better. I'm not saying my path is just magically laid before me because I said a prayer, but I do feel less anxiety when I take the burden of the world off my shoulders. I think that where I am right now in my life, I'm almost lucky that I started the school thing and would like to (eventually) finish. It means I don't have to freak about leaving New York now. I can potentially stay as long as I like, but there's also an end in sight if I want there to be. If I weren't in school, I might be more inclined to make another spur of the moment decision (i.e., leaving NYU, moving to chicago, moving to indy from chicago, etc.) that I eventually realize I could have handled better.

I fully believe that I am destined for great things. I just think I need to broaden my definition of "great" and "successful". Great things don't require me to be miserable to change the whole world. Helping people and making life better for myself and others is a pretty great thing, I think.

Train Wreck

2007-10-31T14:52:11Z

There is officially something going on with me. I don't know what it is and I don't want to be over-dramatic, but there's something wrong. Since last week, and talking about all those issues during my therapy session, I have been on the verge of a panic attack. There was a time in my life when I was regularly having panic attacks. Sometimes I knew exactly what brought them on, and other times they just showed up and I was forced to deal with them. The last one I remember having was in January of 2006 when I was on the airplane coming back from Christmas in Indiana. I think I fell asleep for a bit and had a dream that I was still home or something. Then I woke up and I was on a plane. I've never been very good at saying goodbye at home when I visit, and this time was the same thing. If you haven't had a panic attack, then you may believe they don't really exist or you may think they're not a big deal. Let me tell you, they're a big deal. You think you're going to die. Literally. Your heart feels like it will actually beat out of your chest and your temperature drops but you're sweating bullets and your mouth goes dry and your brain tells you that you are actually dying.

I remember the seat belt sign was on, but I had to get up. If I didn't move, I was sure I would actually die. I went to the bathroom and threw up. I sat for a few minutes with my head between my knees, just trying to breathe.

When I got back to NYC, I found my therapist.

Now, granted, my life is a bit more "together" than it was then, or at least it is technically. I'm not in some weird relationship limbo with Dustin anymore and I've talked a lot about my dad and about the whole Rafael thing. I've gotten a lot off my chest. There have been times that I've wanted to quit therapy--to walk away and just be okay. I think most of my life, other people have been telling me to be okay. They've tried to fix what's wrong with me or tried to tell me to shake it off. One of my dad's favorite things to say to me is "be POSITIVE." Not that he's Mr. Positivity, but I am constantly convinced that I will fail. I do believe in the power of positive thinking. I think that people who walk around in a consistently negative place are setting themselves up for doom and gloom. But I also think that there is something behind it. There are some people who can't just snap out of that negative place by taking a different outlook on a situation.

I hate to be Debbie Downer. I don't act depressed around people, but sometimes it just gets extra hard to fake it. Lately is one of those times. The stress of school and work, neither of which I'm really enjoying, are weighing down on me to the point that I can't crawl out of the hole. I've never been medicated and I've never really thought that I needed it. I've toyed with the thought before, but I generally get into an upswing and feel okay for a while. I haven't felt as bad as I do now for a couple years. I don't know if I've been holding it in or if just being so busy with things I don't enjoy has brought it out.

I know I have to finish school to move forward and I know that borrowing money to do that and not working puts me into serious and unnecessary debt. I know that I can cut back on school and probably be less stressed, but I'm not sure that would make me happier because I just want to be done with it, and until I am, I'm going to be consumed with it. Work is okay, but I'm convinced that I don't want to be on the administration side of government. I like policy, legislation, implementation. I want to affect change, not administer the changes someone else decides on. I think that law school is probably the right place for me, but as I finish school, I'll have to put a lot of thought into it and decide. The topper on all of this is that all I can think about is acting. I knew this would happen. My parents knew it would happen. Some of the lowest points in my life have been when I'm not acting. And the best moments have been when I am. Wow, I can't believe I just wrote that. I've never really acknowledged it. I always say I'm happiest when I'm in a show and we always talk about how hard those two years without any theatre were between high school and moving back to Indy. Wow. But what do I do with that? I mean, I auditioned for a while here and went crazy having no money and having to turn something I cared about into a money maker. I am constantly in this cycle of starting one thing and not finishing it, so I feel like I should just stick for a while.

I'm just so tired of being unhappy. I'm tired of thinking that if I just get through something, things will get better. Because they don't. Getting a raise will make things easier. Getting a new job will solve my problems. Going back to school will make me feel good about my future. So far, none of these things are true. I know it's up to me to fix it and not anyone else. I know there isn't an absolute answer. I just wish I knew how to be happy.

Topless? Of course.

2007-10-30T16:33:00Z

So all you Gmail users know that Gmail hosts ads in your inbox that somehow pertain to the contents of your emails. I rarely pay attention to them, but today, I got this:

http://www.originaltoplesssandals.com/index.html

I don't know if I should be more bothered that gmail thinks I'm talking about topless things, or by the fact that these actually exist.

Calculus my ass.

2007-10-29T14:16:09Z

I had a crazy busy weekend. Friday night I went out (SHOCK) briefly with coworkers to have a happy hour drink. The ONLY reason I went is that they were going to my neighborhood, so it didn't really involve any extra work on my part. Lately I can't be bothered to go anywhere that requires too much effort if it isn't school or work. This summer I went out all the time, but now that school is in full swing, I rarely have the energy.

After drinks Friday, I got a small opportunity to relax, which was nice. I needed it. Saturday morning I had class for three hours and then went to work at Jack Rabbit which is the shoe store where I had a second job over the summer. I haven't worked in ages, but sometimes people need subs, and I certainly could use the money, so it worked out. I was there until 8 and then I went home to get ready to go out and meet this guy that I had stupidly scheduled a date with. It was fine, but I don't even know why the hell I am making an attempt to date right now. There's just too much on my plate and it's just another thing to stress me out. I felt obligated to go, so I did. It turns out he's a pretty cool guy. He's asked me out again, but I just think I have to let the dating thing go right now. I wouldn't be a very good girlfriend at this point anyway, so there isn't much point in pursuing anything seriously.

After the date, when I should have gone home, I met Brandon, Darien, Chase, Gina and Brian at Sing Sing on St. Marks for a bit of karaoke. I was just going to stop by. They were all in costume and were supposed to be going to a party. I put in a song when I got there--Before He Cheats, one of my karaoke standbys--and just hung out. We had a really good time. For about 30 minutes I just let myself have fun. It's been a while since I've done that. I didn't drink because I didn't want to be out of commission on Sunday. We just jumped around and danced and had a good time. When it was about time for my song, one of the bartenders (sidenote: This is an entirely Asian run bar--like most karaoke bars in NYC. Usually, the girls behind the bar are scantily clad in tiny shorts or tube tops. The first bartender who helped me had on a collared shirt with a sweater over it and long pants. I leaned over to Brandon and said, "What? They're going as uptight asians for halloween?" It might not be funny out of context, but trust me, it was funny that night. Or Brandon was just drunk. Either way.) came up to me and said that someone else had picked my song. It was this chick who had a really nice voice but had sung every country ballad in the songbook. So, I had to go to my other standby, which Darien had already mocked because, yes folks, its musical theatre. I've been singing Maybe This Time from Cabaret for years and I like doing it at karaoke just because it feels good to sing. The reaction is generally mixed depending on the crowd. Well let me tell you something. I brought the fucking house down. I didn't expect it at all, but somehow I must have rocked it. There's a break in the middle of the song and people just started SCREAMING. Then when I finished people were high fiving, hugging. It was a magical evening. Then we got french fries a Pommes Frites which was also a life changing experience.

Yesterday was cleaning my room, painting pottery and hanging with my Little Sister (through Big Brothers/Big Sisters) and then a whole lot of homework catchup. I'm a wreck today because I feel like I haven't got a good handle on my math class. I missed a couple classes when I was sick and now I feel lost. The book for the class sucks, so it's really her lectures that teach the concepts. I feel like an idiot. I've had all of it before, but I don't remember it for the life of me.

Today is feeling like it might be a rough day. My emotions are really out of whack because of a few things, and it's one of those on-the-verge-of-tears days. I hate these days because I always tell myself to feel better, and then feel worse when I don't. I don't want to be a downer. I just want to be happy and to feel good. I'm neither right now. I'm going to go to my professor's open hours today and try to get myself on the right page with all of this. School is incredibly overwhelming, but if I take it a step at a time, I can hopefully finish it all.

That's all. I guess there wasn't much to this entry, but that's my life these days.

Meltdown

2007-10-26T16:02:47Z

I'm writing this entry for myself because I need to address what happened last night, rather than push it under the rug like I often do. Of course after therapy I went home and ate everything I could get my hands on, because somehow THAT is going to make it better. Rather than giving myself time to relax right after a session, I need to focus on holding onto the feelings I'm having and getting them down on paper. Last night there were so many things in my head when I left the session, and a couple slices of pizza and some Grey's Anatomy supressed them back down into my subconcious.

Last night we talked about my anxiety--this constant feeling that I don't really know who I am; my constant need to impress people; my drive; my need to not look weak in any way shape or form. I'm a total hardass in some ways. I'm not afraid to cry, or to rely on people. I do those things. I want to do those things. But when it comes to goals and ambitions, certain things, in my mind, are weak. Living in Indiana is weak. Not going to a top 10 law school is weak. Not devoting every last second of my free time to some greater good is weak. Being like my mom is weak. And I get emotional when I write that, because I love my mom. She is incredibly strong in lots of ways. She stood by my dad because she loves him. She teaches first grade for Christs' sake; you have to be strong to be able to handle that. But when I think of how she handled my dad's alcoholism, of how I had to be an adult from the time I was very young, I get angry. I'm angry that I had to stand up to him. I'm angry that I was responsible for my sisters a lot of the time. It isn't that she wasn't present. She didn't neglect us at all, but the combination of her weaker personality and my dad's stronger personality left me feeling responsible as the oldest child to protect my sisters. I have a hard time manifesting my love for them, because I took on the personality of my dad--be tough. I would smack them around or scream at them because anything was better than being like my mom who seemed so wishy-washy.

I think part of the reason I get so frustrated at school and around apathetic or lazy people is because I'm jealous. I'm jealous of people who are willing to ask for help; people who are willing to lean on others; people who don't feel like they have to save the goddamn world every day. I think I'd be so much better at things if I just let myself be, a little bit. Rather than have to be amazing at everything, choose one thing I really want to do well, and do it. That doesn't mean I can't do things I enjoy, but the fact that I spend every Friday night in my apartment because I'm just so damn tired isn't fun. I want to find a way to live in balance--to learn to listen to what I really want, what I really care about. I said last night in the middle of everything that I'm not even sure if I live in NYC because I want to or because I feel like it shows my strength.

I don't want to feel like it's weak anymore to want things that are similar to my mom. I have all these aspirations, and lately, I've started thinking about how it will all work with timing. I realize that as a woman, I do have to think about these things. Granted, I'm only 24 (almost), but with the number of things I want to do, I have to consider where I fit a personal life into all of it. Part of me is ashamed and scared to admit that I would really love to meet someone and be able to let this whole "act" down a little bit. I want a house and a backyard and kids and all these things that I had when I grew up. I want those things so damn badly. I think, sometimes, more than I want any of this other stuff. I want to find a common ground where I can still be a goal-oriented, successful woman, who has a family that means the world to her. I just want to be able to stop with the constant act. I am not weak. But I'm not as strong as I act, either.

Choices

2007-10-25T14:55:54Z

School is making me really crazy. Last night I sat in the waste-of-time class I mentioned in my earlier post and marvelled at the stupidity of some of my peers. I don't want to give the impression that everyone in the class is a complete moron. And I don't want to come off as a snob like I'm above these people. It can be hard though, when you try to take a class seriously and you're surrounded by people who just don't care. What am I supposed to think? I'm sure some of them would take offense if they knew I was saying these things, but when you ask the same goddamn question 4 times and it's already on the syllabus, what do you want me to think. If you want people to think you're smart, act like it.

I called my dad after class just to vent and of course ended up in tears. Typical me. I have major issues with commitment and committing to this school is turning out to be really hard for me. I go through lots of "woulda, coulda, shoulda" when I think about my life so far and my education especially. I'm not saying I'm an almost-24-year-old full of regret. I actually don't really regret many things. I do feel, however, that I missed out on some really great opportunities, based on the choices I made. I could have a degree from NYU now if I'd stuck with that. But if I had, my parents probably wouldn't have a brand new house and I wouldn't have lived in Chicago, fallen in love, gone to AADA, had my heart broken, met some of my best friends, etc. There will always be pros and cons to each choice you make so I guess it's my responsibility to own it.

The frustrating part is just that if I were at NYU now, I know exactly what I'd be pursuing. That was a huge part of me leaving. I was in an individualized major program and had WAY too much freedom as an 18-year-old straight off the boat from Indiana. At almost 24, I now know what I would do with that freedom, but 5 years ago, I had no idea. My frustration with school now comes from my fear of the future--the fear that I won't get into law school, or grad school, or the PeaceCorps; the fear that because I made one wrong move I will never fall back in love; the fear that maybe I'll never realize I actually hate New York because I'm too busy proving to everyone that I can handle the big city.

Sometimes I feel like I know exactly who I am, and other times, I don't have a friggin' clue.

caitlinmarie83: i really think im going to apply to the peacecorps when i get done with school

is that insane

rebelprince26: that's not insane.

that's awesome.

you're going to have a fantastic time.

caitlinmarie83: well first i'd have to get in

and all of that

rebelprince26: i don't think that would be a problem.

i mean, you're caitlin.

You dropped my heart...

2007-10-22T02:46:08Z

Right now I should be studying for my midterm that is less than 24 hours away, but in an effort to avoid studying and, at the same time, to quench the craving I've had for a milkshake all day, I just went to Baskin Robbins for a yummy Oreo milkshake.

On my way back, there was a group of guys hanging out at the pizza place just down the street. One of them said "Hello, miss." Now, I know this is a nice thing for someone to say, but I've learned not to respond to these things. Maybe it's being a jaded New Yorker, but you just finally learn that being nice can get you in trouble. Neutral is usually the way to go. So I kept walking, enjoying the yumminess of my milkshake that is the perfect amount of oreo so that the cookie doesn't get stuck in the straw, and I hear the man again.

"Miss, you dropped something."

This gets my attention. I have dropped my debit card on my street before, and then dealt with three weeks of filling out forms to be reimbursed for the $100.00 dinner I never bought. I turned.

"Miss, you dropped my heart."

I laugh and roll my eyes and keep walking. He catches up with me and walks beside me. He asked me if I'd ever dated a Puerto Rican to which I responded, "I can't say that I have." We approached my apartment, and this is always the moment that a scene of him pushing me into the building and pulling a knife on me until I suck his PR cock starts running through my head.

He didn't do any of those things though. He walked out into the street to meet back up with his friends and while he was walking he asked if I already had a boyfriend. I lied, of course, because this is what women do in this situation. We say we have a boyfriend because somehow that will make the insane stalker-man walk away. We convince them that somewhere in the immediate vicinity there is a big burly man who will come to our rescue so don't even think about touching me.

He stopped in the middle of the street and said, "Just do me one favor. Tell him he's a very lucky man." Then he did a little bow and ran off to find his buddies.

I know this means nothing to anyone. And I know I'm certainly not bad looking. But when a girl has spent her weekend in sweats, feeling stressed about school and work and men and her future and how she doesn't think she'll ever be thin or pretty enough, little moments like this are much appreciated.

I'm going to wear stretchy pants more often.

Ode to the IT geek

2007-10-21T03:57:24Z

Oh IT man, how I love you and your talk of programming and systems and CSS and dreamweaver and photoshop. I don't discriminate--designers, consultants, programmers--I love you all. You mention HTML and I get a little weak at the knees. Never change. Own your geekiness. The ladies love you more for it.

That is all. I have to go back to tap-dancing with my gay roommate now.

On a lighter note...

2007-10-19T14:37:43Z

Yesterday's entry was a bit heavy, so today, lighter subject matter that is still relevant to my questions yesterday.

How about we just choose what to do based on wardrobe? We had an event for work today and I had to wear a suit. I look damn good if I do say so myself. I was getting ready to leave this morning and Brandon saw me and said, "Do the job where you have to wear that everyday." So I'm now in the market for careers that involve suits.

That was simple enough.