I love you when you're singing that song,
and I got a lump in my throat
'cause you're gonna sing the words wrong.

- Vance Joy, Riptide

-+-

From December 28th, 2011, the day that Bunnie died:

[M]y Bunnie ... was a goldfish among goldfish.  After all, over her 6.5 years of life, Bunnie was present at every milestone of my adult life.  Because it didn’t matter what I was going through, it didn’t matter what fights I was battling — we always had a standing appointment every morning and night for me to feed her food flakes, for six and a half years.  And she was always punctual.

Thank you, Bunnie.

-+-

If this is any foreshadowing as to what I'll be like in my next relationship, then I will be very impatient with getting to know each other.  I'll want to dive straight into the heart of the matter -- where we're already farting and finishing each other's sentences.

Definitely not to imply that I've even had a date lately, let alone a romantic interest.

Rather, there are two much tinier gentlewomen that have recently become an element of my life.  I am currently hosting two critters for a friend -- an extremely shy little fluffball named Macaroni, and an energetic little lady named Noodle.

They're uneasy with the new surroundings, new smells, new everything, so they've been particularly shy with me.  At every little sound I make, they dart into their little hiding spot until they swear I'm gone.  I really just want to admire them and hang out and pet them, but clearly that's going to take a while.

They make me miss Bunnie.

Bunnie was my goldfish in high school and college -- I had two goldfish actually, but Munchie died before college started.  Munchie lived for about three years, while Bunnie lived for almost seven -- I had no idea what was the lifespan of a goldfish when I first purchased them (I was expecting a few months, maybe a year tops), and every one of their birthdays was a pleasant surprise.  Bunnie died during Christmas break of my Junior year of college, while I was visiting the folks.  My dad always thinks it's because she wanted to die in her hometown.  I always thought that was a whimsical way to think of it.

I didn't experience this quite as much with Munchie, but by the time Bunnie and I knew each other for a while, she would get excited and swim in my direction every time I came home from class.  I spent a lot of time wondering if she was just trained -- these light patterns of the door opening and closing indicate that I'm about to be fed -- or if she knew me.  Was it really all just rudimentary instinct for food, or did she know who I was?  Moreover, can a goldfish love?  When she was a few years old, I could dip my finger in the water and she would swim so that she'd rub against my finger.  Outside of stingrays and starfish in the petting pools at the aquarium, she was the only instance I've had of "petting" a fish.  Could this simple goldfish actually... love me?

In any case, I loved the routine that I had with that fish.  I loved our bond as owner and pet, as Bringer of Food and Perpetually Hungry Goldfish.

So now, where all I'm currently staring at are two blurs of fluff cuddling in a hiding spot, I am feeling super impatient.  I don't want to wait for these pets and I to get to know each other. I want to be in the thick of it!  I want them to already enjoy my company so much, that I'll start wondering if they love me!  I am unreasonably impatient for two creatures that I've barely met.  I already just want to hear their excited tiny paws as they run around, knowing I'm going to feed them.  Right now, I'm just that tall and scary thing that makes a lot of sounds.

I'm sure it'll come in time (assuming that they don't spaz out and die on me), but until then, I'm counting my blessings for the great times I had with Bunnie!

and ed

omg dont even get me started on ed right now, omg i loved that cat omg

and I don't need your deepest secrets
whisper in my ear
'cause I can hear your heart, your heart

- James Bay, Hear Your Heart

-+-

Jacob asked me to come over to hang out with him and his friends.  As I arrived, he was getting sleepy, and he held me as he fell asleep.  His friends were still playing video games and watching Netflix.  Should I... hang out with them?  When I thought Jacob was satisfied and peacefully asleep, I stood up.  In his drowsiness he seemed so flustered by the abrupt scarcity of Christa, and squeaked a sleepy, "Where are you goinngg?"

"Should I, like, entertain your friends?" I said.

Without opening his eyes, he excitedly and simply replied, "Stay with meee!"

This was the same guy who, when we first met, I thought was super aloof and mysterious.  I thought he was 100% bad boy.  I thought he was some antisocial guy with a beard.

So as I held him and slowly ran my fingers through his hair as he fell back asleep, I laughed at the irony --

underneath it all, he was adorable.

-+-

I'm starting to wish that I wrote sooner.

I wish I could've captured the exact moment that I drove down Rosecrans in tears, 'God, god, I miss him.'  I wish I could go back and mentally photograph the way my heart leapt out of my chest whenever he gave me that look, that particular look with the soft smile and the even softer eyes.  Even if I could just hold onto my reaction when he exclaimed how much he loved the honey that I gave him... man, that would've been somethin'.

Oh, if I could pluck those instances right out of time and write them here, I could've shared so much of me.  I mean, I remember them, but now in a fond reminiscent way.  The way that inspires a humble little smile and a nod, 'Oh, those were good times.'  Had I written earlier, maybe you would've seen the crevices of my soul and the pulses of my heart.  Oh, gosh.  You would've seen me so in love.

That's not to say that I'm ungrateful for where my heart rests now.  It took us some time and some tumultuous paths to get there, but I'm also glad for us as friends.  He'll always be the first boy that said, "...but I still want us to be friends," and followed through.  We've even gone to each other for relationship advice with other people, and we've never had to compromise how much we care about each other.

I couldn't remember the last time I laughed so much with someone.  That's what ran through my mind nearly everyday that Jacob was in San Diego this summer.  Moreover, being with him made me feel more than just infatuated or excited.  I felt... safe.  That, I haven't felt with another guy since long before Phuc and I ended.  For me, that was exceptional.  It wasn't even just when he rescued me from the party crowd of Pacific Beach in his new sleek car à la Batman, but it started way back.  That was when I first knew he was special.

It's now been more than a year since Jacob and I met.  The attachment comes and goes.  I sometimes wonder about us, but it's really no wonder at all.

No matter what we are or what we'll become, we're two people that care for each other in a world full of souls.

It's not much, but here is a shard of that.

-+-

It's hard to imagine that when we first met, I thought we were so casual.  I had been on the dating scene for a bit, and by the time I met Jacob, I had admittedly become jaded.  By the time I spent a few days with Jacob, all I knew about him was the deep passion in his gaze, and the gravel in his voice.  That's all I was expecting to ever know about him.

When he first asked me out to lunch, I was taken aback.  'Quality time?  You don't ask some random bitch for quality time.  wtf.'  I remember being so nervous when I showed up to Sanford-Burnham for lunch the day after.  I thought Jacob was way too cool to be asking me out to lunch.  I recall our friend Juan Carlos coming to eat lunch with us, "I'm gonna be third wheel, I don't even careee!"  I was honestly thankful that Juan Carlos butted in, just because I was so nervous about getting to know this handsome bearded man in the flannel shirt.  I especially remember Jacob resting his palm on my knee as we listened to Juan Carlos share an anecdote, and thinking, '...this is kinda nice.'

I remember yelling at Juan Carlos, "You have to come with me!  Oh god, this is going to be my first time alone with Jacob.  Like, just the two of us.  No other interns within a 20-minute radius."  He replied, "So what?" and my heart pounded in my chest as I drove by myself to Point Loma.  I was so fidgety and awkward at the start of dinner.  I'll never know if Jacob noticed how sweaty my palms were during our first real date.  I have no idea when we transitioned from that to what we became.  To him being the boy worth fighting for.  To him being my second love.  All I know is that after a few weeks with Jacob, I couldn't wait to see him after work everyday.  After a few weeks, I already knew that he was the best thing that had happened to me in a long, long time.

...

By our second summer, I now half-expected every hangout with Jacob to be a function of him and his many friends.  Over the last few breaks, almost every time I rolled into his house after work, his friends were already there.   I wasn't picky about it -- they were good company, and I wasn't particular or needy for alone-time with Jacob.

A few days into summer break, Jacob called me while I was eating dinner with Julie, "Come over when you're done!"  When I arrived, I went upstairs, assuming that everyone was drinking in Jacob's room.  Empty room.  Hm.  I went back downstairs, and I finally heard the TV playing.  I walked into the family room, and Jacob was sitting on the couch watching TV.  Just Jacob.

When he realized I arrived, he yelled, "Yayyy!"

I stood there, and I actually had to absorb for a second that it was just him and me.  I didn't expect how excited I became at the sudden revelation that I had Jacob all to myself.  I immediately ran to the couch, jumped onto a spot next to him, and snuggled into his shoulder.  It was such a world away from when I used to be nervous about being alone with him.

"Aw, hi gurl!" he smiled.  We watched TV, but for part of it, I just wanted to admire him.  Every now and then, I was just in disbelief that he was really next to me.

He caught me staring at him and inquired, "What's up?" and I said, "Oops, sorry!  I'm objectifying you!"  He just chuckled, and pulled me in closer.  I was so happy.

It was such a small evening, and it was such a small event in the two weeks that Jacob was in town.  Regardless, that entire evening, I was truly delighted.  I was having the time of my life.

Just from a moment next to him.

I have to say, that's something pretty special.

You know you can't keep lettin' it get you down,
and you can't keep draggin' that dead weight around.

- OK GO, This Too Shall Pass

-+-

old convo:

"kill yo'self"
-- "lol wat?"
"actually, no! don't kill yourself!  if you killed yourself, the average cuteness of a person would decrease significantly"
-- "LOL that's the best. thank you"

-+-

As a new recruit to my pool of friends, one of the more fascinating features of spending time with Daniel is that he is persistently bewildered and surprised at my fascination with bees and honey.

My default is to partake in alcoholic beverages with him (naturally!), and the other day, we went to a bar that I love for its mead.

"Mmm!" I was instantly in love with my glass of Golden Coast Orange Blossom Mead. Daniel nodded, agreeing that he enjoyed its taste. I noted, "It breaks my wallet, so I don't have Mead too often. Mead is so good. It's fermented honey!"

His brow furrowed, "What's with you and honey?"

I looked up, and I almost thought he was joking. Is that... is that a real question? I half-expected him to go "lol j/k," but he never did. He clearly found me genuinely perplexing.

In context, it makes some sense. We weren't close in college, so he didn't know that I hosted a honey tasting at my house's graduation party. He didn't know that I've attended beekeeping classes, and he didn't know about my ever-expanding collection of monofloral and polyfloral honeys. ...Uh, I think. Either that, or he does know I've done all/some of those things and he really just thinks that I'm crazy.

I did mention to him when I was a honey vendor, and shared with him when I first got my Sunday honey job.  Upon mentioning the gig, he just replied, "Does biology pay so poorly that you need a second job?!" and complained about the wages and tumultuous economy of being a biologist. I was puzzled. It seemed so clear to me that I was just in it for the honey.

In any case, Daniel demonstrates continuous confusion with my apiology fascination. Which, at this point in my life, actually strikes me as an foreign feeling. People in my life have either A) known me throughout my ever-continuing honey journey, or B) learned later that I like bees and honey, and just accepted that I'm their friend that really digs honey. Whereas Daniel goes wtf? Almost always, without fail. It's honestly very interesting to me. To me, I'm just very, Of course I like bees and honey. Duh. On the other hand, I actually really understand his reaction. My interests and hobbies are really really weird. I'm pretty weird. I'm surprised more people don't react to my honey collection this way.

During another conversation, Daniel asked, "If you could have any job in the world, what would it be? Assume your level of training or knowledge doesn't matter, and the amount of money it pays doesn't matter."

I replied, my expression unwavering, "Beekeeper."

The same furrow in his brow. He searched my face for me to go "lol j/k," but to no avail. He said with confusion, "Wow, that honey job really got to you, huh?"

It felt so strange to explain my enthusiasm for honey and pollinator conservation.  For many in my life, they would probably think, "Oh, of course Christa would say beekeeper.  Classic Christa."  For Daniel, I explained, "Oh. Um. I took up that job because I like bees and honey."

We then stared at each other for a good second, each of us confused with the other.

-- "=_="
"@_@?"
-- "...@_@!!"
"o_o?"
-- "I LIEK BEEZ"

:D

This ain't love, it's clear to see...
but darling, stay with me.

- Sam Smith, Stay With Me

-+-

-- "That just ain't me anymore."

So... this is what adulthood is like.

-+-

Daniel and I were sitting outside of Lestat's Coffee.  I had my feet propped on another chair, my hands fumbling with my drink.  He smiled, "You're like the sister I wish I had."

I wholly reciprocated the sentiment, "And you're a true bro, bro."

We basically had "Close Friends Boot Camp" over the last few weeks.  When his fiancee recently broke off their engagement, I assured him that I'd be there for him.  So here we were, laughing outside Lestat's Coffee.

After many hours of conversation, I was on my last sips of coffee.  I mulled, "I'm finally pretty happy being single.  I mean, I don't have to clean my room anymore!  I think the prospect of not having to clean my room actually excites me more than the idea of not being single.  That was actually the first thing I thought when Steven broke it off.  I wasn't even mad.  I just thought, 'My god, no more clean room, YES!'  And that's when I finally felt like the single life ain't bad."

Daniel pondered this for a second before shrugging, "Well, your room is still tidier than mine."

I reached for another example to corroborate my claims, "Ahaha, and sometimes, when Steven asked me out on a date, I was like, 'Damn it, I can't go golfing because I have a date tonight!'"

Daniel replied, "See, that's weird.  When I'm dating someone, I always really look forward to spending time with them, no matter how long I've been with them."

My turn to shrug.  I answered, "I get it man, I mean, I still had butterflies with Phuc after dating for five years.  And Steven and I didn't really date, we just went on dates.  But yeah, if I really like someone, that's different."

I looked through my mind for more examples.  I didn't have to look far.

I quickly continued, "Like, when Jacob was in town.  I didn't golf, I didn't go to the gym, I didn't even go home.  I really didn't give a shit if it meant I got to hang out with Jacob."

Daniel chuckled, "So if you disappear off the face of the earth for a week or two, I should just assume Jacob's in town."

I replied, "Ha!  Wouldn't be a bad gamble."

My mind flashed to when Jacob gave me relationship advice back in January, and he told me, "If I really like someone, I don't let anything get in my way to spend time with them."  I suddenly remembered us holding hands as we carpooled to work together almost every morning, even if he would finish work hours before me.  I remembered us both leaving work early and eating tacos on Sunset Cliffs Blvd., watching the waves beat against the shore.  I remembered how his demeanor was so rough around the edges, but then he shyly and gently whispered, "Sit close to me?"

I got into Daniel's car, announcing, "I think Jacob ruined me."

As his engine turned, he curiously inquired, "How so?"

"I mean," I elaborated, "sure, I've dated a lot, but I don't really have interest in dating around anymore.  I mean, the three guys I dated after Jacob didn't work out for different reasons, but it wasn't like it was ever because I was just seeking out flings and short-term dating.  I don't think I can want that anymore.  I think being with Jacob set the bar too high, and now I don't enjoy casual dating as much anymore."

Daniel noted as he sped down the freeway, "That's actually kind of cute."

I leaned against the headrest of my seat.  I was short on words, and the night was getting late.  So, I just responded with a simple, "Lel."

-+-

I read over the message again.  "I'm looking for something more fun and casual."  I stared at it for about a minute.  Then, I deleted the phone number.

...

That just ain't me anymore.

And true, it may seem like a stretch,
but it's thoughts like this that catch
my troubled head when you're away,
when I am missing you to death.

- The Postal Service, Such Great Heights

-+-

At this point, I knew his room like it was my own.  After all, I made those little grooves in his wood floor.  I spent so many mornings waking up to the sun peeking through the shades of his windows.

We were getting ready for dinner.  At one point, I laughed, "You're gonna miss me, huh?"

Suddenly, a glimmer of sadness shone through his smile.  He said, his voice softer than I'm accustomed to, "Don't say that. You're going to make me dread leaving."

[Beat.]

-+-

"You're probably gonna blog about how awesome I am, aren't you?"
-- "......lol prolly"

It's been exactly three weeks since I flew away from Arizona, and I flew away from Jacob.  I don't think I've been very subtle about meaning to write about the two weeks that he was in town.  I've been postponing it, trying to find the right words to say -- but I want to write it all down while the heart is still so fond.

The reality of our distance and our circumstance is that every time he leaves and every time he comes back, I never know who we've become to each other.  Sometimes we would chat over webcam every other day, sometimes we won't text each other for weeks.  Sometimes we would crave each other to the point of madness, and sometimes we would casually keep in touch as we date other people.  We have our lives to live, and time can be both kind and cruel.  In the end, we're an incredible example of playing things by ear.  All I would trust is that we care about each other, and that the rest will just come.  Whether that means we're lovers, we're friends, we're acquaintances -- as long as I know we care about each other, I let the rest just happen.

Eventually, he would tell me he's back in town, and I would agree to see him.  Yet, at this point, I never really know what we are until the moment I lay eyes on him.  I now always go through a potpourri of emotions once I start counting down to his arrival.  Nervousness.  Anticipation.  Anxiety.

While it isn't until our eyes first meet that I see the familiar warmth flicker in his gaze, it's always a few seconds beforehand that my emotions stop churning.  I would walk towards his garage door, and I would hear the distinctive sounds of him shifting into his garage -- those sounds that always make my heart skip a beat.  As the garage door lifts, the moment I look past the rising door and see his shoes is always the moment that does it for me.  I could be a trove of mixed feelings, but without fail, at that very first hint of Jacob, I instantly grow in excitement and fondness -- 'Jacob is really here.  I'm really about to see Jacob again.'  I don't know how much I glow whenever we first see each other, but if it's as much as it feels, then it must be a lot.

However, I would hope my poker face isn't a complete joke.  Like always, I tried to keep my cool when I saw him that Friday.  I learned a long time ago not to throw my eggs in this basket.  I'm always prepared to spend his time in San Diego as his bro, as nothing more than good camaraderie.  I braced myself to care for him, but to also maintain emotional distance.

Then he kissed me.  His demeanor is naturally calm and collected, but god, to see through his gaze and witness his gratefulness to see me...

I should've known better than to think I knew how to tame my fluttering heart.

Motherfucker, don't stop
spinning those idle hands.

- EXGF, Idle Hands 

-+-

"Good thing you're cute, Christa."
-- "Excuse me?  I'm fucking ADORABLE."

-+-

Rachel: "I'm thinking about dropping the Headquarters Market. ... It's just not earning enough to justify the hassle."
Me: "Im'ma be real with you, Rachel.  I'm in it for the honey.  Whatever you choose, I'll support it."
Rachel: "Ahaha, fabulous.  Thanks, Christa!"

A few days later, I received a follow-up text from my boss, Rachel.  Just like that, I was no longer a honey vendor.

A lot of people comfort me and sympathize for me when I tell them that I no longer sell honey, but I have to admit, I'm walking away from the experience with incredible satisfaction.  Part of me wonders why I don't feel defeated, but the other part of me is grateful to sleep in on Sundays again.

I think it's because my big goal was to learn more about bees and honey, and I really think that over the course of three months as a vendor, I achieved that.  I learned about the San Diego Beekeeping Society through my honey gig, and I'm now a member of that guild.  Through that leap of networking, my learning is no where close to stopping.  Just Monday, I learned about top-bar beekeeping and potential upcoming hive threats.  I learned that the Varroa mite arrived with Asian immigrants in the late 80's.  I learned that while there are hundreds of species of native bees exist in San Diego (and thousands of species across the country), 90% of San Diego pollinators are honey bees -- and no one knows why.  And there's a lot more knowledge where that comes from.

I'm saddest about no longer being "The Honey Girl."

However, no matter what happens to my love for bees and honey -- whether it takes off into my own apiary or it proves to ephemeral -- I'll always adore that for at least a glimmer of my life, I was the girl that sold honey on Sundays.

But then you found me and everything changed,
and I believe in something again.

- Sara Bareilles, I Choose You

-+-

"Look around you! These are your people. Everyone here loves bees!"

-- San Diego Beekeepers Society Monthly Meeting

-+-

A little mundane, but I wanted to just jot down summaries of my days lately.  For one, it'll help explain/justify how incredibly tired I always seem to be.  Also, there was Omer's flattering, "How do you stay so active and survive, Christa?  How do you have time for golf and honey and work and all the things you do?  You always seem like you have something going on."

6/9/14: meeting with san diego beekeeper's society
6/8/14: achieved hangover :) then stick of truth all day aww yeah
6/7/14: napped in omer's backyard! first time on golf course! comfort sad daniel via alcohol!
6/6/14: short game golf practice with omer
6/5/14: karl strauss & driving range with sad daniel
6/4/14: observatory show with omer!
6/3/14: bought my golf set! burritos and drinks with sad daniel
6/2/14: brewery w/ julie and myra
6/1/14: day 2 in vegas with the parents
5/31/14: day 1 in vegas with the parents
5/30/14: drive up to barstow after work to visit parents
5/29/14: golf lesson and shopping for golf gear!
5/28/14: dinnar with chau & her roommates
5/27/14: bar hopping with julie
5/11/14 - 5/26/14: jacob was in town, which was honestly a continuous adventure

Then before that, days were pretty slow and restful, ahaha.

Weeeee!

Enjoy your body.
Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it.
It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

-- Baz Luhrman, Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)

-+-

"I'm very protective of you.  ...I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you."

-+-

"How do you stay so positive, Christa?"

The question never stops being incredibly flattering.  The students joke about the fictional entity of "Christa in a Bad Mood" and colleagues tell me that being around me enhances the mood of the room.

I usually just giggle in reply.  If I'm fast enough on my feet (which is rarely), I'll say something cute or silly like, "It's all the honey I eat," or, "It's easy when you look this good." (I swear I say that jokingly -- I'm not actually that conceited, aha!)

In reality, a huge part of what dictates my "positive attitude" is a little morbid, so I try not to be overly earnest in answering that question.  In short, I literally try to spend everyday prepared to die.  Death is frustratingly easy.  I read it all the time on the news.  It would only take instants for a car to swerve into me, for someone to suddenly pull out a gun, for any variety of situation where I'm at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I am constantly aware of it.   I'm incredibly clumsy, so I manage to accumulate a variety of scars and injuries from simple everyday tasks.  My wounds would take weeks to heal, and it'll get ruined so instantly by a slip of the wrist.  Every unexpected injury reminds me that I am fragile.  Someday, this can be how quickly it'll take for me to die.  I have no idea how my light will go out.  I constantly imagine building my life up for decades, only for it all to potentially vanish in the manner of instants.

In fact, I never used to understand that phase, "Live everyday like it's your last day on earth."  I used to think it meant that I better visit the Eiffel Tower ASAP, or go skydiving RIGHT NOW, or in some other way be incredibly ambitious towards all the things on my to-do list.

I understand it a lot more now.  I feel like that happens to everyone at some point, and I'm sure I'm not unique in this.  Every time I get into a car, or I get on a plane, or I part ways with anyone, I mentally accept that I may very well die between that moment and the next time I see anyone.  So I always think if I would be satisfied with the state of the world if in that time, my soul were to leave my body.

If I were to die in the time it takes me to drive home from work, or to fly back from the Bay Area, or to drive back from my parents' place, am I happy with the way I last said goodbye with everyone?  I'm admittedly generous with "I love you" -- I know many a soul (my past self included) that are stingy with their "I love you"s, saving them for a special occasion, or just for when they truly, truly mean it.  They let the rarity of saying it increase its value.  I hugely respect that.  However, to the eyes of a person with that attitude, I'm a huge "I love you" slut.  With the exclusion of romantic interests (b/c that of course loans a new layer of meaning), I give it away like Costco samples.  If I happen to die before the next time I see you, I got to say "I love you" to you before my candle burnt out.  I'd be happy with that.

My mindset hugely enhances the way that I handle arguments and conflicts.  If I were to die, I don't want people to regret that I died angry at them.  Or vice versa -- I don't want people to regret that the last thing they felt towards me is anger.  So I now try to let go of grudges with people important with me, and I always try to communicate issues to a quick resolution.  In doing so, I've been told that I'm low-maintenance and easy to get along with.  When we part ways, I want us to be happy with each other.  Just in case.

Every time I get on that shuttle between work and my car, I sit down with myself, and I wonder, "If I died right now, would I be satisfied with the way I left the world?"  I try to apply this to nearly everything, constantly.

In this, there have been two major exceptions in the past year.

1) My room.  My room is a mess.  If I were to depart, my room is a chaos that no creature should have to sift through.  When Jacob was in town, I practically lived with him for almost a month, so I maximally neglected my room.  Since he left, I've been too busy to clean -- I would get home at the end of the day just enough to groom, maybe blog/play Stick of Truth for half an hour, then go to sleep.

2) This is more interesting, but... my parents.

I've had a tense year with my parents.  Tense may be an understatement.  I won't go into detail, but we essentially got in a feud about money last summer.  I felt used and manipulated, but more notably, I let myself become incredibly mad at my parents.  It was a grudge that I held onto for eleven months, and I still hold onto pieces of it now.

The first time I saw my parents after the feud started, we argued until sunrise.  I didn't spend Thanksgiving with my parents.  I spent less than ten hours of Christmas vacation at my folks' place -- I got in at 11pm on Christmas Eve, and left right after breakfast.  I used to call and say hi throughout college, but this past year, I didn't reply to my dad's e-mails that my parents missed me.  I was ready to die angry at them.  I was ready for time to pass and to never stop being angry at them.  I felt like after what they did, I spent enough time being a good daughter.  The only people in my life that I'm ever short with are my parents.  It continues to be an unfortunate fact.

However, a few weekends ago, my sister and I coordinated a visit with my parents.  With the passage of time, I was feeling a little less bitter, and was at the, "OK, maybe I'll regret it if someone dies right now," phase, and we decided to say "hi" as a belated Mother's Day present.  We were going to get in Friday night late-night, and leave after breakfast Saturday morning.  We were going to say hi, and emphasize the part where we were just saying hi.

Then this happened.  I made my mom cry out of joy when I told her I was planning on naming my daughter after her.  I felt my rough edges begin to soften.

The weekend after, I attended the wedding of Jacob's sister.  As I met the extended family of this boy that isn't even my boyfriend, I realized that I had officially seen some of these people more than I've seen my own relatives.   I've seen his aunt April more than I've seen Tito Gismo.  I know his grandmother Jane more than I know my own godmother.

Then, as his parents hugged me hello and asked me about myself with incredible welcoming and warmth, I realized... they had been more parents to me in the past year than my own parents.  It was an uncomfortable revelation.  They're incredibly kind, but what does that say about my family?  Initially, I regretted the dysfunction in my family, blaming it on my parents' selfishness.  However, looking back -- way back, before this feud ever started -- I remembered how much my family... needed me.

No family is entirely at fault for its dysfunction and strangeness.  We are completely different people forced together by blood and history.  But as the youngest child of three, I grew up into a unique mix of all of my family members.  I had both the rebellious spirit of my sister, yet the docility of my brother.  I had the zaniness of my mother, yet the calmness of my father.  Effectively, I am our family's middle ground.  As hard as it can be to get the family members together, or to stop fighting, or to quell lonesomeness -- to some extent, I'm often needed as the glue for the family.  It was a responsibility that I was about to abandon over a grudge.  Was it really worth it to stay angry?

I got last Sunday off from selling honey, and plane tickets were too expensive to visit my sister.  Friday morning, on my way to work, "Everybody is Free (To Wear Sunscreen)" started playing on the radio, and a line played that struck a chord with me:

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good.

It was a "The Universe is Sending You a Message, Christa," kind of deal.  dammit, the garrett revelation, then the song, then the mom crying, then the... dammit.  dammit i'm a softie

So I picked up the phone, and called my dad.

"I got Sunday off. ...Do you want me to visit today when I get out of work?"

In reply, I received a clear, resounding, instantaneous yes. My parents sounded like they were literally waiting a year for that offer from me.  Within hours, I was on the road and on my way to my parents' house.

This week, I'm a little bit more ready to die than I was last week.

That makes life feel pretty good.

I didn’t know I was lonely 'til I saw your face.
I wanna get better.

- Bleachers, I Wanna Get Better

-+-

Phoenix, AZ.

"You're very special to me, boy."
"You're special to me too, girl."

Every single time, I never know if it'll be the last goodbye before we'll lose that spark between us.  A lot of things can happen in a couple of months.  And yet, here we were standing in an airport terminal, a year after we met, kissing each other goodbye.  I've always hated goodbyes with him, and I've had a lot of goodbyes with him over the past year.

Yet, there's a moment of our goodbyes that I adore, that fills me with love.  In that very last instant that he's about to turn around the corner or I'm about to turn into TSA, I'll look over my shoulder for one last glance at him...

just to see that he's looking over his shoulder to take one last glance at me, too.

-+-

"Whatever happened to Alex?"

I read over my blog a few months ago, and was like, "Shit what the fuck all I blog about are boys what the fuck," and in recent months, have honestly made some deliberate effort to stop using my Xanga as my girly gossip box.

However, I realize this is a question that I should also address here.  After all, accepting my unrequited crush on Alex was supposedly the turning point in my San Diego slump.  I'll admit, things are a lot better now.  I used to feel like I was achieving nothing, but since that post, a lot has happened.  Work has been fantastic, I got a gig selling honey, I joined the SD beekeeper's society, I've taken up golf, and I've made a lot of friends in the process.

It was a helpful revelation and a necessary jumping point, but not a lasting one.

Honestly, like in the post-script at the end of that same post, Jacob's playful, "whatever im better" ended up being true in an enlightening way.  It's uncanny how being treated well will immediately emphasize when you're being treated wrongly.  From day one, Jacob was never dishonest with his expectations with me, even if that made it hard for both of us.  Not once in the past year would I ever say that Jacob led me on.

So it was fine when Alex called it off.  Although he knew I still liked him, we decided to be friends and treat each other as friends.  We grabbed a beer or lunch together every now and then.  Then he crossed a line a few weeks ago -- he started flirting with me.  However, not only did he flirt with me, but he flirted emptily and without intent.  He didn't want to get dinner together ("Christa, I'm a very independent person.  I don't know if you picked up on that.") and he didn't want to see each other outside of work.  Yet the "hey cutie ;)" texts kept coming, and his selfishness was suddenly clear.  He had no other plans but to string me along, and I wasn't having it.  It was like I was a puppy or a plaything, and that's not okay with me.  My adoration was quickly displaced by apathy.

The last time I saw him, I was walking to the shuttle stop to return to my lab building.  In past months, I would nervously turn around, not knowing what to say to him; or, I would detour and mysteriously find ways to be next to him in line for coffee.

This time, I rolled my eyes and just kept walking.

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

- Semisonic, Closing Time

-+-

"You see, Jacob and Christa are the epitome of an 'It's Complicated' relationship. At this point, I'm just coming along for the ride. (Turns to me.) Yeah, Christa... I don't know when I'll ever understand you two.  It won't be until you two get married that I'll finally have some idea of what you are to each other."

Julie is a true bro.

-+-

"Okay, I'm going to comfort you now.  I am about to pat you on the shoulder with an open palm.  Are you ready?"

I slowly follow through with three slow pats on his shoulder.  This is quickly ranking as one of the most awkward acts of sympathy ever.  I end with, "Are you... comforted?  Did I... do good?"

I get a laugh and a, "What...?" in reply.  He was just dumped by his fiancee a week ago.  What's the right thing to say to someone going through that?  When he first told me the news, I had no idea how to react other than, "I'm here for you.  I don't know what to say or do, but I can fill you with alcohol."

His moping was very interesting.  He sighed, "Christa, all I want is a cute white girl that likes Asian guys, that will settle down with me and will let me geek out about everything."

I replied with poetic life lessons, with a decent amount of alcohol running through my bloodstream, "Well, I gotta tell ya', the dating scene in your early 20's can kind of suck major ass.  I'm speaking from experience.  I've had guys I've really clicked with but nothing's really come out of any of it.  Other than Jacob... but even then, Jacob and I are very complex.  Oh, I like Jacob.  I miss him.  He's a cat guy... look, he made a Facebook page for his cat.  I love his cat.  He loves his cat so much.  OH, Jacob just messaged me!  Awww.  He says I'm awesome.  Aww oh my god, I miss him.  What was I saying...?  Oh, yes.  Yes, San Diego is a very single city.  So good luck.  But every step of the way, I will alcohol with you."

He replied with a smile, "Thanks, Christa."