Cleaning out the closet.

Within a mass flurry of ex texts, passive aggressive/misogynist facebook posts, etc. this week I learned a few things about these boys I had dated and myself. Here's a gem from my most very recent ex:

Yes, I date assholes. Pretty much everyone I know is constantly joking "oh, you sure do know how to pick 'em." (Honestly though, Bear was a freakin' saint compared to 80% of my exes so I would like to make it abundantly clear that he is not counted within the "asshole" category - that's probably why we were together for a year and a half.)

So, I date jerks and then I try to BE FRIENDLY WITH THEM afterward in some sick, stupid sense of duty. Even when all of my friends hate them. And then I end up miserable just trying to deflect the snarky comments and judgments and manipulation and craziness and trying to convince me to "ride off into their delusional sunset."

Then yesterday I saw a relevant quote from the Rumi facebook page I follow:

<------

Yeah, these boys are never going to change. And even if they eventually do, it's definitely not going to be on my behalf.

I realized that the only way to fix this is to "clean out my closets" and cut off contact from those exes who will never learn to play nice or have any interest in becoming self-aware. Keeping them around clearly has absolutely no emotional (or physical, if you know what I mean) benefit and I think it's about time I start doing the right thing for me.

Let's think of it as a New Year's Resolution - possibly the only one I've made in the past 10 years, but perfectly 100% doable.

...and I'm feeling good.

I spent a little time hanging out with one of my exes recently (no, not "Bear," though we did go back and forth yesterday on facebook, with no positive results) until it became more and more clear that he was still a hot mess and came with way more baggage than I'm interested in checking on Alyson Airlines.

Since I quickly put the kibosh on that one, I have returned to my temporary boy boycott and am continuing to settle into my apartment. Honestly, I don't know that I've ever been happier! I feel more functional and evolved than I ever have been before and completely content to be single as I move forward.

Almost every weekend I get out with the Madre to wander around to find new plants and supplies for my balcony garden. The vegetable portion is coming along nicely; last weekend I added eggplant and burpless bush cucumbers and I am digging all the greenness. My hanging "butterfly garden" pot has yet to bloom, but I picked up some miniature bee balm to placate the part of me that wants flowers NOW. Sadly, I think it's too late this year to bloom the dahlias and peonies I had hoped to plant.

On the nerdy tip, I'm almost done with Clash of Kings from the Song of Fire and Ice series. My coworker who is a book behind me went on vacation and I barely resisted the urge to paper her monitor with spoilers. I've got book 5 (acquired at the reading last week) just sitting on my shelf, staring at me and pressuring me to hurry the eff up, but these books are all just a little under 1000 pages a piece so I don't imagine I'll finish before the end of the summer.

Still, as I lie in my bed reading at night with a view of the progress on the balcony and Gizmo and Bread beside me, I can't help but feel like my life is really GOOD.

I love Seattle.

Every time I drive through the city I am truly struck by its beauty; on sunny days Seattle just makes you feel good to be alive.

I am going to briefly touch on recent events and then continue this blog in its original vein and speak about the positive things that are upcoming for me.

Ma and I had to say goodbye to our 18 year old cat B.C. on Saturday. His liver was failing and quality of life was decreasing at an increasing pace. He went quietly after lots and lots of petting.

Bear is leaving. Had I been honest with myself, I would have seen this coming long ago and I had at least a few friends who did. I'm okay, but in the next six weeks I have to find a new place to live! Having become quite fond of the Junction, I am willing to give up a few amenities to be able to remain in the area. Once again, I'll be packing every night after work.

My amazing friends have rallied around me and I am looking forward to a bright future, happily on my own again. I've had a lot of new design ideas and having free reign over the space for paint and art and such will be super refreshing. Having more time for girlfriends is also a huge bonus and I have no doubt there will be a lot more social activity for this domestic goddess. The dust should settle in a few weeks and I can get back to my fabulous life as I once knew it!

***I will say that I highly doubt I will be cohabitating with a beau pre-putting-a-ring-on-it ever again and even after that it may be somewhat difficult to convince me.

I wish I knew more Turkish.

More than once this weekend, mutual friends of ours exhibited surprise when I assured them that I want to continue to learn Turkish. Obviously, the classes I took weren't as helpful as I had hoped and I am nowhere near fluent (though I didn't really expect such amazing results from a 6 week class) but jeez folks - I'm not done.

My boyfriend's first language is Turkish. That is the language he is most comfortable using and the one he communicates best with. By choosing to not pursue a deeper comprehension of Turkish I would essentially be saying "I don't care about being able to communicate effectively with you, ever." At the very least, I feel I should know as much Turkish as he does English - it's only fair.

Something else to consider: healthy, happy relationships are based on the ability to communicate well with your partner. It's difficult enough when we have conflicts, but it is compounded by the fact that we think and speak in different languages.

Now, I just need Seattle to get with the program - how about hooking a girl up with more matriculation options, eh?

*hangs head in shame*

Oh for the love of gawd - I am an awful blogger.

Bear's been here for almost a month now, this week we got our sweet-ass couch and dining set and soon we can show off the new digs with a housewarming party.

Days before he came home, my fantastic orange kitty Wilson got very sick and had to be put to sleep. Lord, that was rough. He was not even 4 years old and in great health the day before - I didn't see it coming at all.

So, we've all been adjusting to a new cat, Bear is settling in to his new home and I am learning how to live with a dude.

It's been more than interesting but honestly, I would change very little about these last few months of my life (except for the lack of blogging part, eh?)

Wilson and Bread

First of all, I want to sincerely thank every one of you who prayed for us and shared our pain on Facebook. It is always tragic to lose a part of your family, furry or not, suddenly or slowly. We were blind-sided and Serkan had no option but to offer as much support as he could while being thousands of miles away. Unfortunately this meant he was not able to have his own goodbyes with Wilson, and they loved each other so so much.

Truly, all of your kind words have touched my heart. I know many of you have been through the same thing or have a pet that you love so much you don't want to imagine ever being in the same position. As they say, "this ain't my first rodeo" and in my life I have said goodbye to many kitties, never on really pleasant terms. Wilson is incredibly special to me and I will never forget all of the things I loved; the last 4 days of his life are far outweighed by the 2+ great years I got to spend with him. He taught me things.

In the days after he passed, after separate heart-to-heart chats with Bear and the Madre in which I honestly expressed my desire to adopt another cat (I can't say it more eloquently):

"Unlike some people who have experienced the loss of an animal, I did not
believe, even for a moment, that I would never get another. I did know full well
that there were just too many animals out there in need of homesfor me to take
what I have always regarded as the self-indulgent road of saying the heartbreak
of the loss of an animal was too much ever to want to go through with it again.

To me, such an admission brought up the far more powerful admission that
all the wonderful times you had with your animal were not worth the unhappiness
at the end."

- Cleveland Amory

they both unknowingly presented me with the same, kinda freakin' brilliant, idea.

We'll have to back-track a little.

About a year and a half ago, a friend's bartender roommate was trying to adopt out two young adult Maine Coon mix brothers - he had agreed to house them for a friend whose new girlfriend had allergies or hated the cats or maybe she was just slightly crazy, we never really figured it out but she never attempted to regain ownership of the kitties even after insisting they be adopted out together. Since another roommate was allergic, these cats (who probably loved their original owner and home) were now forced to spend their days and nights in one room where the occupant was actually rarely there. I had Gizmo and Wilson in a one bedroom apartment so I couldn't rescue them myself, but I convinced my Mom that she had enough room to house them in addition to the 2 she already had - 17 year old BC and her youngin' Sawyer. I would have taken one if I could have, but ended up convincing my Mom to step closer to the cliff into Crazy Cat Ladydom.

The boys Bread and Puppet were named after The Bread and Puppet Theater: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bread_and_Puppet_Theater and holy crap they were *traumatized*. We all got scratched to pieces when we put them in the crates; one person even got blood poisoning. It wasn't pretty.

The Madre (aka The Cat Whisperer) quickly turned them around and they are mostly normal adorable cats, though Bread has a tendency to pick on Sawyer (who also never got along with Gizmo) and Puppet is still very shy around strangers. I adore them both, though Bread is really my fave.

One night while discussing our adoption options Serkan gently suggested that maybe Ma might let me take one of her cats off her hands and I immediately protested - BC needs to stay with her because of his age, Sawyer doesn't get along with Gizmo and the brothers grew up together. Puppet loves my mom dearly and I know he is too sensitive to be parted from her. I thought *maybe* she would consider letting us take Bread home but knew I would never actually ask her to consider it.

That same night The Madre called me to present the exact same idea. Two days later, she brought Bread to me.

It's been a rocky start with Gizmo - at first she was just confused, then she was pissed.

For me it's been pretty easy (minus all the growling and initial spats in the middle of the night) - Bread is a great cuddler. Oh my goodness he loooooves to spoon. And he's 17 pounds of adorable silliness.

I still have plenty of moments where I think "oh, Wilson used to..." or "that's just like Wilson..." and I am smacked in the face with grief, but life is getting back to normal as the kitties adjust to each other and we settle in with our new ball o' fluff.

Fun with paint!

Spending most of my life in rentals (with many nomadic years as a kid) I've never really been in a place where I was allowed to paint OR felt like I was going to stick around long enough to really find the proper inspiration/color.

Now, in this joint abode, I am practically obsessed with getting paint on the walls. I keep having to tell myself: "wait for Bear - this is not a one (short) person project" and to my (pleasant) surprise, he has actually expressed a great interest in working on home projects together when he gets back. For weeks I've had the perfect palette for the living room in my head, trying to decide which color should go on which walls and how to play up the high ceiling as well as the atrium window.

Sherwin Williams hooked it up with the "Rooted" collection. We've already got all the accent colors in the group sprinkled through the living room and I'm really loving the gray trend right now. It looks classy, dammit. I may look into color-matching to save some $$ if possible, but as far as I'm concerned my color search is over.

Now I just have to patiently wait until my boyfriend gets home and I have someone tall enough to tape off the ceiling - even with a ladder I still come up just a little...short.

Oy. A month?

A month since I last blogged. That is a crying shame. Honestly though, I've been really effing busy!

Big, big changes afoot. While Bear was back for his visit we decided to move forward on looking for a place together. And a few days after he returned to Istanbul, I found it.

We are, for all intents and purposes, now co-habitating a lovely 2 bedroom apartment in the Junction neighborhood of West Seattle. Of course, he's not going to be home for another 3 weeks or so but his dresser and some of his clothes and shoes are there, so technically it counts.

There's a muthaf*ckin' Safeway downstairs, y'all (and just beyond that a Subway, Taco Del Mar, Papa Murphy's, teriyaki place, QFC, Cupcake Royale, all kinds of great bars and restaurants, yadda yadda.) I was joking with Bear on Skype last night that "we are soooo metropolitan...in the suburbs." I love love love West Seattle and we now live right in the heart of all the neat stuff (and much closer to Alki/downtown, etc.)

It's been a huge undertaking to do essentially as a singleton. Though I have had help from my friends (OHMIGOD CECILLI WAS A GODSEND) and had movers for the big stuff, it was no small task moving out of a 3rd floor walk-up with an arthritic back. At this point, everything is moved in even if it isn't exactly where it belongs yet. After a little bit of settling I can break out the paint brushes; once Bear gets home we can go furniture shopping (and move the rest of his stuff over from the Island.)

Over the next few weeks I'll start posting the "before" pictures so you guys can see what we're starting with and then as we go I can update with our progress (or you can just stick around to see if I lose my mind in the process.) It'll be fun, promise.

Note to Self (re:shoes)

No more (attempts at) shoe shopping with Bear unless you are specifically looking for flats and/or military inspired boots. O_o

To my ladies: what is up with all the ugly boots this season? And thigh high everything - WHHHHHHY?

Priorities!

Okay, so I didn't go to class. After contemplating what my teacher could possibly (most likely)intend for the last class in the 6 week series I couldn't really find a reason to justify driving from West Seattle to the U District and paying for parking. I've still got Rosetta, a good workbook and loved ones who are more than happy to help me continue learning so I'm not feeling too guilty.

Instead I spent the evening reorganizing my drawers. This weekend the Madre and I searched far and wide (aka as Southcenter's furniture district) for a lingerie chest to help accommodate Bear's clothing when he comes back for his holiday visit (and beyond.) My tidy Virgo tendencies would not do well dealing with him living out of a suitcase, even if only for a week and a half. Because I had skipped the Jingle Run (why I don't own waterproof running gear in Seattle baffles even me, but it was too effing wet) but I still wanted to hang out with my Mom, I figured this was the perfect day to get out and look.

Um, so, I learned a lingerie chest is a very specific type of furniture that places don't keep a lot of versions of AND they usually run around $300 on the lower end. So, off to ikea we went to purchase the $150 version, which we put together in 3 hours the next day. It's simple but beautiful and I seriously felt a sense of accomplishment after making it through all 27 steps without resorting to drinking or throwing things.

The piece it is replacing was a much smaller 2 drawer chest with a usable surface area. Because I didn't go to class, I finally had a chance to make the adjustments to lighting and decor around the bedroom as well as getting the clothes redistributed. Again, my donation pile grew and also I ended up lugging everything downstairs to take to Goodwill.

With only a number of days now until my boyfriend gets back, I have A LOT OF SHIZ TO DO. I believe shall be coping with a little bit of retail therapy to balance out the grocery shopping, fish tank cleaning, bedding washing, girly grooming, etc. I earned it, and I am making it a priority too.

"ours" vs. "my/mine"

Only one week until I get to see my boyfriend. Halle-freakin'-lujah! Not a moment too soon, really.

Also, tonight is my last Beginning Turkish class. Can I get an "Amen?" I've enjoyed the class, but working on noun cases for the past 3 weeks with no forward movement has been incredibly frustrating. I had a pretty good grasp after the first class we worked on them, but I guess she felt the rest of the students were confused enough to warrant an additional 2 sessions (out of 6) on the same stinkin' subject. I think I might go back to Rosetta Stone until I can find an Intermediate class with a little more momentum - I'm not a fan of being forced to pace people who are having trouble grasping pretty simple concepts. Even after discussing my concerns with the teacher, it was clear she did not want to move on to another subject and obviously was not attentive enough to understand how far ahead of the other students a few of us are already moving.

I have a butt-load to take care of around the apartment in the next 7 days, which I am slowly trying to teach myself to refer to as "our" apartment. After 30 years of being an only child and a number of years living on my own (with a few brief failed attempts at cohabitation in my late teens and early 20s,) sometimes I find myself having to consciously focus on the fact that it is now technically "our" apartment and the things in it are essentially "ours" (hands off my Dermalogica, boyfriend.) Once he's actually physically there and helping me with the nitty gritty (like cleaning and finances,) I'm sure it will come much more naturally.

I'm surprisingly not super freaked out about the fact that in a month or so I will no longer be living alone, like, ever again. I know the initial time period where we're crammed into a little one bedroom is going to take adjusting to, but we have our eyes on the prize - a 2 bedroom pet-friendly home with a washer and dryer located somewhere north of the current place. Together. That's the best/most important/coolest part.

Two weeks...

...until I see my sweet, adorable Bear again.

In honor of that happy event, I give you some Al Green:

Reaching the threshold and being ok.

I've found out my breaking point when it comes to my boyfriend being away. Well, I suppose we figured it out before but I didn't realize how the cycle of okayness in my head really truly works (or doesn't.)

Last time Bear left, we agreed that if he were to be gone any longer than 2 months on this recent trip we would figure out a way for one of us to visit. I am now positive this is a pretty good rule to follow from this point forward, for the sake of our sanity if nothing else.

The first month, I'm "OK." I can usually keep myself busy and there aren't too many effects on my daily life, though I am bummed about the non-cuddling and may get a little lazy with my cleaning efforts. Once it passes that one month mark, I start to get sad. Now, if the absence is only one month beyond that I can usually keep it together for another week or so until I have to start readying myself for his return. Pass that one month month with no return date to look forward to and I start to get really sad. Like, "put me on medication sad." I wish I were joking.

Maybe it's just the multiple disappointments we've both had to face this year schedule-wise while still trying to move our relationship forward and the stress of being apart so much AND maybe it will be more bearable as the months go by and we can actually spend more time together than apart, but when it was becoming clear he was going to be gone for 12+ weeks instead of the projected 6-8 it was simply too much for me to handle.

He's my best friend, he's the love of my life, he is my rock; being apart is overwhelmingly hard on both of us. I was already incredibly bummed he'd be gone for Christmas, to add another month beyond that was unimaginable for me. I was crushed. Sadly, it doesn't just strain our relationship, it's also really hard on the friendships I've developed with the rest of his band/management, too.

Thankfully, my Bear is keeping his word. I'm not sure exactly how it came about, but as the offer for the January tour dates became more concrete he apparently became more convinced that he need to come home for a visit. Just like that, "how the hell am I going to make it another 2 months??" transitioned to "oh crap, I have less than 3 weeks to get my sh*t together."

So, he'll come back for a visit and brighten my spirits for the holidays then should only be gone another month beyond that for the tour...Afterward he can come home to me and we can find a bigger place of our own. Finally, our hard work this year will start to pay off the way it should. THAT I can handle.

He does what he can.

While I am still sad that Bear's absence is going to be longer than we had hoped, I have to give him credit - he really has done his best on this trip to get as much face time as possible with me on Skype and give me as much attention as he can.

Most evenings after I get home from work we'll talk for a for a while, sometimes on the weekends we'll just leave the camera for hours on as we work on projects separately, occasionally he'll get into bed and just leave his laptop open until the battery dies after he falls asleep.

It's no substitute for having my living, breathing dude snuggled up to me on the couch with our kitties, but it's a lot better than relying on phone calls, emails and letters to stay in touch, of course.

As bummed out as I was last week after finding out about Christmas, there's really nothing he could've done to be a better boyfriend.

On Monday, Seattle was hit with snow. My coworker who lives near me had ridden her bike to work, so I volunteered to give her a ride home. On my way from her apartment to my own (it took an hour to go from work to her place to my place - all in West Seattle,) I quickly realized my cute little Hyundai is not made for inclement weather. There was a near death experience and a major curb check that trashed one of my front rims; by the time I made it home I was sore, tired and a more than a little freaked out. I opened my mail only to find my one year anniversary gift waiting for me - a gift card for a manicure, pedicure and massage at the salon he goes to for his haircuts in Seattle.

Tuesday was a "Snow Day" and the day he told me he wasn't scheduled to come home before December 25th.

Wednesday, I cried a lot. He tried to reassure me a lot.

Thursday (Thanksgiving,) was our anniversary.

Historically, The Madre and I never found much use for the whole big turkey dinner. That didn't change after I got out on my own, but we wanted to spend time together (um, that's the real meaning of the holidays, riiiight?) so she took me to breakfast at one of our local go-to diners and we chatted for a while.

Once I got home I pulled the Christmas tree out of storage, since Bear and I had already decided to put it up "together" before he told me he wouldn't be here for the actual holiday. It's a pre-lit, 3 foot artificial cutie - perfectly sized for my apartment. Most of the ornaments were the ones with sentimental value that I convinced Ma to left me have when I moved out, but Bear did get me a few more at Turkfest and I had some traditional balls to fill up space.

We got on Skype and after the usual catch up for the day and "love yous" and "happy anniversaries," I popped on some holiday music and got down to setting it up. He worked on music and occasionally gave input, even suggesting maybe we just leave it up for the next year to make up for him not being here for Christmas. While I can't imagine that happening, especially since we'll be moving into a bigger place as soon as possible when he returns, the idea cheered me up.

***One of the many many many reasons I love him - even from across the planet he puts a huge smile on my face.***

When I finally finished up, he was definitely ready for bed (I always forget if Turkey is 9 or 10 hours ahead, but the bottom line is - boyfriend stays up really late to be able to see me,) so I left the laptop open and kept working around my place until I was sure he had drifted off to sleep.

Our relationship has been a little unconventional, but I will give him this - Bear is doing everything in his power to keep me happy despite the distance. As sad as I can get sometimes, I know that I am a very lucky girl to have such a devoted guy itching to come home to me.

Color me disappointed (<----understatement of the year.)

Geez, there are so many ways I could catch y'all up here because it's been a while since I last posted, but the only thing I've been able to think about for the past day is that Bear is not coming home in time for Christmas.

Technically, that means this year he'll have been gone for all of my favorite holidays (Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas.) Did I mention that Thanksgiving is our one year anniversary? Yeahhhh. And this is after my birthday in September basically got pre-empted for a show. I'm growing more than weary of this.

For The Madre and I, these days have always been mellow but shared with the ones we love that are closest and most important to us - usually each other and/or our oldest friends. I was really looking forward to sharing that with him this year, since last year at this time we had just started officially dating and kept the holidays quite "light." I knew it was possible he wouldn't be home, but now that he's said it out loud it is a lot more real.

Honestly, I'm crushed. Right now I feel like all my holiday spirit is gone.

P.S. Though I truly appreciate the fact that some of my friends might think that inviting me out will help, please don't - it's not going to.

Okay, okay - I feel safe(r).

Due to some questionable activity in my neighborhood and the regular failure of my neighbors to heed the "please do not prop the door open, this is a security(sic) building" sign posted on pretty much every door, I was feeling really unsafe being home alone even before Bear left.

While preparing for his departure, we purchased an alarm for my apartment. In the interest of my own personal safety I won't be describing the exact system we chose, but I will say that we tested it out and were quite pleased with the initial results. For my front door there is an option to chime or sound an alarm when the door is opened while the system is armed.

The other morning before work (a little before 8 AM) I apparently neglected to turn off the door alarm before I departed for my car. I had set it up to "chime" and honestly did not expect the ear-piercing screech that it emitted. Startled, but with enough good sense to quickly shut the door, I switched it off and tried again to leave my apartment.

Except, I didn't actually switch it OFF - I flipped it all the way to ALARM. Holy eff.

I'm pretty sure my neighbors probably hate me, but I'd also bet no one on my floor will ever consider trying to break into my apartment either. I definitely feel safer.

Aren't we more advanced than this?

In the age of god-knows-how-many IM platforms AND Skype, I find myself incredibly frustrated when I am forced to correspond with my absent boyfriend via email.

I feel like I may as well be sending a carrier pigeon. *okay, okay, this is a slight exaggeration of the situation

On a similar note, I realized this weekend that due to his travel and phone restrictions Bear would make a pretty dreadful "Emergency Contact." *this is unfortunately not an exaggeration

I love a successful weekend.

Oh yes, there was a pedicure. Lots of ice cream too.

And Deadwood (thanks to a non-The Wire TV series suggestion from my favorite other American+Foreigner couple.)

I went to Hump! and watched amateur porn in a room with hundreds of other people, including the lovely group of my favorite Hill-ites I attended with.

I tried rock climbing with a girlfriend who is apparently part monkey and clearly far less afraid of heights. (see picture for her superhuman feats!)

I Skyped with my boo, I cleaned as much as I could motivate myself to...Pretty much all I could ask for from a weekend on my own.

All I have to do now is make it through Monday.

Two entirely different types of classes...

I really can't imagine my Turkish teacher even saying the words "ass" or "inner diva," but they roll effortlessly off the tongue of the chick who teaches my Art of Seduction & Exotic Dance classes.

One session strains my brain, the other works my body but both push the boundaries of my confidence.

After all the running around I did this week, I didn't get to talk to Bear much on Skype and by Friday I definitely needed a night in to treat myself to a nice bath, some shows, hot tea and take out pizza and ice cream from my local favorites Proletariat and Full Tilt. It's also possible there may be a pedicure in my very near future.

It's definitely going to be a more hectic pace than I am used to during the week, but it will clearly help keep me busy and distracted until my dude can come home. Also, it means I don't have a lot of time on the weekdays to clean, so "Helloooooo again" Domestic Goddess Sundays!

In honor of the Turkish government re-opening online access to Youtube:

This is for you Bear.



Now if only India's record company would actually let Youtube broadcast the official videos, the GBF and I would be a lot happier.

***Oops. that didn't last very long, did it? TURKEY: YouTube banned, again, over sex-scandal video