Bids for My Heart

I seem to have developed a habit.
It appears that when I return from any sort of trip
I am a little bit in love with wherever I just left.
The places I visit seem to hold on to a little piece of my heart.
Most recently, I was flying back to Ohio
after spending a glorious couple of days alone in San Diego
and I found myself sitting at an airport wine bar
reading about post-vacation blues.
I was bummed about coming home.
What is it about a destination that is so romantic as opposed to my home?

Well, home is familiar
and there is that saying
“familiarity breeds contempt”.
Destinations are foreign
and there should be a saying
“novelty breeds love”.
and it’s all exciting.
So, it makes sense that
I get swept up by the romance of these new places.
What is it about romance that is so alluring as opposed to my reality?

But it’s also interesting returning from places
I used to call home because
they are familiar to some degree.
Those places seem to hold on to pieces of my heart too.
When I lived in Florida,
I couldn’t wait to get out.
Now that I live outside of Florida,
I can’t wait to get back.
What is it about nostalgia that is so beguiling as opposed to the present?

In thinking about where I want to make my home,
I get overwhelmed.
I hear “home is where the heart is”
but there are some strong bids vying for my heart
and all of them already have pieces of it in their hands.
What is it about me that is so indecisive as opposed to sure?

Do I just fall in love too easily?
Will I ever be able to “settle down”?
Too big of questions to tackle before a second cup of coffee.
Hold please.

Arachnid Crisis

I’m really trying to be at peace with myself and the world around me.
Kumbaya.
It seems to be going well today until
I spot a larger spider crawling along the wall of my room.
Crisis.
I hate spiders.
I know we swallow 7 a year in our sleep 
but that annoyingly disturbing information doesn’t help anyone.
I know I am going to have to deal with this creature somehow.
So, I take one of several notebooks I have lying around
and smash the shit out of it.
All without smearing it into the carpet, mind you.
Then I go upstairs to eat pizza.
My plan is to return to the scene of the crime
and dispose of the evidence somehow.
Usually I take 3-4 tissues, 
pick up the dead thing,
wince as I hold the mass of tissues as far away from my body as possible 
and throw it into the toilet as quickly as possible.
I’m SUCH A GIRL, I KNOW.

Well, I get back to my room and the spider is gone.
WHAT. THE FUCK.
This is the worst thing that could’ve happened
because that means there is an arachnid on the lose somewhere in my bedroom.
I have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.
First thing I decide to do is swear up a storm,
followed by a solid 45 seconds of wining.
Then I throw a very brief temper tantrum
and half-heartedly beg my dad to come downstairs to help me.
Spoiler alert: he did not come to my resuce.
When it appears I have no other choice,
I decide to man up a la that amazing song from BOOK OF MORMON.
“I’m gonna man up all over myself!”
Hilarious and brilliant.
I figure this stupid spider couldn’t have actually gotten that far
because I do believe I at least managed to maim it earlier.
My deductive reasoning leads me to the conclusion that it had crawled behind my very heavy desk.
I never realized the extent of my own determination until I was confronted by this stupid spider.
I single-handedly move this piece of furniture and
there it is.
I’m not really in the mood to smash it anywhere
so I scramble to find a dustbuster
and I suck it away.
If only all of my problems were so easily remedied.

Overwhelming

My parents and I were driving home from the airport this past Saturday.

They were picking me up after another lovely trip to my lovely hometown. 
It was 80 degrees and sunny when I got on the plane.
It was 30 degrees and dreary when I got off the plane.
So we’re driving along and they inform me that
we are having two med students over for dinner.

Here’s the thing- 
I don’t sleep when I’m in Florida.
I was exhausted and the prospect of entertaining
I knew it wasn’t up for discussion because I am living in their house
where they call the shots.
So I decide to employ some positive thinking 
and after gathering more information about our dinner guests I remark,
“Oh, I’m excited to meet these med students.”
My father’s immediate response-
“Please don’t scare them.”
I burst out laughing.
My dad thinks I’m overwhelming.
So overwhelming in fact
that I might scare off two grown-ass men
who are in pursuit of medical degrees.
This should be fun.
Dinner was great.
My mom is a fantastic cook.
I seemed to have missed that set of skills somehow.
I held my own over the course of conversation
but immediately became an absolute non-threat when we hit the pool table.
I am so bad at shooting pool.
Shooting pool and bowling are serious weaknesses of mine.

But the earlier exchange with my dad got me thinking.
Am I overwhelming?
What is overwhelming?
Is there some standard to measure people against as under/over/just plain whelming?
No.
It’s entirely subjective.
You think I’m overwhelming?
That’s fine.
It’s not a good or a bad thing.
And it’s not a permanent thing.
It is what it is.
Take it or leave it.
Or change it.
We choose our own adventure,
wouldn’t you agree?

Polarizing Items

1. “You are enough.”

  • Love the sense of empowerment. 
  • Hate that it leaves me alone. 
  • Also- enough is weirdly finite and I’m not explaining it properly right now.

2. “It takes a village.”

  • Love the community. 
  • I understand that people want to connect and I love certain people.
  • Hate the meteorological forecast in my current village. 
  • Sandusky is the current village and the weather makes me miserable.

3. Love

  • Love being/falling in love. 
  • Hate the aftermath of love gone wrong.
  • But that’s part of the deal right? You don’t get true love without opening yourself up to potential heartbreak. Annoying.

4. Driving

  • Love being in the car alone. 
  • I do some of my best singing/dancing in the car. I would love to make an appearance on “Carpool Karaoke” but alas, no one is interested in watching me when they can have whoever has appeared on that show recently.
  • Hate parking.
  • I have never been good at parking and parallel you can just forget about. 

5. Living at home

  • Love my parents. 
  • Hate living with my parents as a 25 year old trying to be an adult.
  • Self-explanatory.