The Art of Pretending

When it comes to my taste in books, it’s either Harry Potter, LOTR-type fantastical or super girly, super cheesy “chick-lit” (as in chick literature…clever, right?). There really is no in between.

So, when I went to the library yesterday and found myself in the love story section, I had to stop for a look around. Then I came across an author I really like, Sophie Kinsella, and discovered one of her books that I’ve never read, I’ve Got Your Number, and I had to get it. It’s about as cheesy a love story as they come, so it’s perfect.

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“Wait, Why Didn’t They Invite Me?”

I recently found myself asking this question, and it didn’t take me long to find the answer.

I am a homebody. And an introvert (are they one in the same?), and socially awkward as hell. It’s a vicious cycle, too. The more time I spend alone (which is, like, my fav), the less practice I have dealing with people. But every time I’m around people I make a fool of myself, which makes me never want to show my face in public again.

Not only that, but I am terrible about remembering things. Me: “I’ll find out and text you back.” My brain: “Hahaha, she thinks she’s going to remember!” Then, a month goes by and I’m like “aw crap, I totally forgot.” Then I am so embarrassed and anxious about how the person hates me that I just don’t do it at all.

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Oh, Hello!

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It’s been over a year since I last posted here. I am just the worst at blogging. Well, at sticking with anything, really. I guess it’s a good sign I haven’t deleted this, though. That’s what usually happens. There is a mass grave full of my half-assed attempts at blogging. I start them, post religiously for a little while and then boom! One day I wake up and I just don’t care about it anymore. Then I get angry at myself and delete everything.

I think this stems from my childhood, but I can’t be sure. Growing up, I never had anyone to push me to try harder, or to keep practicing, or to not just give up. I’m not blaming anyone for this; everyone in my life has been dealt a pretty crappy hand. Well, almost everyone.

So, here’s the deal. I’m not going to give up on this. I have decided that I want to write my memoirs, and this is the only real “journal” I’ve ever kept. All of my other blogs have been about specific aspects of my personality; my opinions, politics, current events, etc. But this blog is about me and my life.

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God vs Gay | My Change of Heart

Tate and I have very different backgrounds. Growing up, his mother was (and still is) very religious. His dad is a Christian, but he doesn’t talk about it much. Because of his mom, religion was a big part of his childhood. When he ended up at the Christian private school where we met, the rules in school weren’t so different from the rules at home.

My parents were a little bit different. My mom is somewhat of a hippie and my dad is a Southern Baptist. Their story is very long, though, so I’ll just stick with mine. My household wasn’t very religious growing up. I knew that my uncle’s talked about the Bible a lot when discussing women, and that they preached the most when they were drunk, but that was all my dad’s family. My mom and her family didn’t discuss religion very much.

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I’m Back…Finally

I have finally returned after a (not-so) brief and unplanned hiatus. I am really not sure what happened exactly that caused me to abandon this blog for so many months, but something did. I am kind of proud of myself for coming back, instead of the usual *delete, start anew* that I do.

A lot has happened in the months that I have been gone. We have seen good times and bad, but luckily more good. I have realized I’m old, but I’ve also discovered the goodness that is Chamomille tea (the scent of which reminds me of North Carolina for some reason) and honey. Mmm…

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How I Helped Us

Fun quote

I’m going to be honest here; I am not good at finding the best in myself. Because of that, it is hard to praise myself for anything. Again, Tate has helped me quite a lot in this respect because he not only tells me every day what he loves about me, but he is also so confident in himself that it is infectious. So, when I told him about these two posts, I asked him what he thought I brought to the relationship that makes it better. If I were to answer that, I would say that I have taught Tate how to empathize. He has never been mean or hurtful, but when I first met him he did struggle with putting himself in other’s shoes. Now, that is the first thing that he does when thinking of others.

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How Tate Helped Us

Argument quote

One of the reasons that I love Tate so much (there are many), is his sense of humor and how laid back he is. He turns everything into a joke and doesn’t stress about anything. This isn’t a bad thing, though. Some people who turn everything into a joke or brush things off don’t accomplish anything. The reason they turn it into a joke is so that people will stop bothering them already and let them off the hook. Not Tate. He gets things done, he just doesn’t freak out when things don’t go his way. Instead, he finds another way. I’ve learned a lot from him.

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A Note To My Audience

I am currently doing the Blogging 101 course through The Daily Post and today’s assignment is to identify my dream audience. This is difficult for me because I’ve never really thought about who my dream audience is. I guess I would have to say that my target audience would be anyone who is just starting out, whether alone or with someone else, but especially couples who are in serious relationships.

We enjoy our alcoholic beverages, as well.
And also anyone who likes to drink. 😉

I never ever want to assume that Tate and I are an example of a perfect relationship, because I know that those don’t exist. He and I have our fair share of problems, but I think what sets us apart from most is how we handle those problems.

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After Justin

http://tinyurl.com/mpeqjm6
http://tinyurl.com/mpeqjm6

Justin died on Sunday, March 21, 2010. I will never forget that day. Tate and I were at my mom’s house with a few friends trying to keep our minds off of him in the hospital. I remember sitting on the couch with Tate and looking up at him to ask when we were going to go back to the hospital. When he said he didn’t think we should, I got irrationally angry. “You’ve given up! How can you give up?!” I cried. Now I know that Justin’s fathers voice was ringing in his ears; “That’s not my son…” I feel terrible for how I reacted now, but when you are grieving you can do and say things you shouldn’t sometimes.  Read more