Or the account of my decline into barbarism (and all of the lovely, mad people who helped me do it).

Thursday, August 19, 2010


Your fifteen-year-old daughter only sees that her mother is walking out on her.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Humbling Experience

Saturday morning I woke up with a hangover from two Smirnoffs and a plate of nachos. How the hell I got hungover from the Smirnoffs is baffling, considering I wasn't even buzzed the night before. Nonetheless, I felt shitty late into the day. I couldn't stomach much but forced myself to eat anyway. While I was getting ready to go out to dinner with my family, Caitlin my roommate called me and said she just looked at our apartment and it was a wreck. It was so filthy that there were roaches.

Upon hearing this, I was pissed. The landlord knew we were moving in the next day. I went to dinner thoroughly aggravated. Caitlin tried to find us another home, but with no luck. I told Pierre my predicament. He knew I was upset so he called me. It was nice to hear his voice despite the fact that I couldn't understand most of what he was saying. His accent is strong and my phone reception was terrible. He kept telling me how much he wanted me and how he was still going to take care of me despite the distance. I felt better. I really did.

We met in Asheville this morning to see our options. When we got to the apartment, the carpet had been ripped out. They promised us new furniture, light fixtures, fumigation, and touch up paint.

By this time, I was upset. I just moped around the rest of the day, thoroughly disappointed. I didn't want to live there and considered buying a one-bedroom apartment, but prices for one-bedrooms are typically ridiculous. I'd also have to rent all of my furniture and pay for cable, internet, and utilities. Fuck.

On top of that, someone found out about me and Pierre and told me I was crazy for being exclusive with a guy overseas. She said it in the most loving way possible. I know she meant well, only giving me advice. But if anyone knows me, they know that I don't follow advice. I always do what I want. Nonetheless, her comment hurt and I started rethinking this whole relationship. These doubts made me even more miserable. Why is it so hard to follow your heart?

For the remainder of the day my roommates and I drove all over Asheville trying to find a place to live. No luck. I eventually called my dad and he advised that I stay at the current apartment. They were giving us brand new furnishings and flooring, so it shouldn't be that bad.

This entire weekend my stomach has been in knots. I have constantly felt ill from stress. I guess my life has been pretty incredible lately. Maybe this is just a humbling experience.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

You Only Live Once

Pierre and I are an official couple now. I'll admit, I don't feel much different than when I was single, because he's so far away. It's a very strange sensation, really. To be connected so intimately to someone across the world. It's kinda nice to say I have a French boyfriend though...I won't lie about that. We have two anniversaries due to the time difference too. Kinda cute.

The only thing that sucks is that my dad's really skeptical about the whole situation. He constantly hints that I should be wary, that Pierre could be cheating on me. I don't appreciate the comments. Since we're in a long-distance relationship I can't listen to people's doubts. I have to stay positive or it won't work. The relationship is fragile. But at a basic level I still seek approval from my father, so his skepticism is really bothering me. Then again, I have to remember that my father, while wise, doesn't view relationships the way I do. He's always been more judgmental then me. I think his perspective is a little more cynical than mine. And I'm not just talking about romantic relationships. Friendships as well.

I guess time will tell. I just hope I'm not making an ass out of myself. But, hey, you only live once. I might as well try, right? Besides, everyday we're together I think, Wow. That's one day I've handled a transcontinental relationship, a feat I thought was impossible. But it's working one day at a time. We're doing it.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Last night Daniel tried to get me back. Again. The whole conversation was frightening, because Daniel kept telling me how much more time he had now. He could come see me on campus, eat lunch with me, see me in the mornings...etc. I started to compare the offer with Pierre's situation. He's overseas. We won't go on dates or be together again until January. As soon as I noticed myself comparing, I told Daniel he was being unfair and he should just respect my decision. He's gonna take some time away from me for awhile, which is for the best.

As if the past 72 hours haven't been strange enough, I was getting ready for bed when Pierre texted me good night and told me he loved me. I texted him back but he had already gone to sleep. Well, shit. What the hell is that? Love? What is that anyway? I sure as hell don't know. I've never felt it.

This morning Pierre contacted me like he always does. I asked him about last night, thinking it might just be a cultural difference. He said, "I know it's strange but sometimes I feel like I really do love you. Last night was one of those times."

I didn't know what to say. I've only known him three weeks so naturally I'm confused at his affection. But if it's one thing I've learned it's never to judge someone's feelings. I remember seeing young girls in love and thinking, How dumb! How can they say they're in love? They don't know what love is! But then I experienced these feelings and was infinitely frustrated when people told me to "get real."

I feel like I'm there now. People have been rather cynical about my relationship with Pierre. They don't take it seriously because of our distance, but if I want this to work (which I do), I can't have people whispering doubts in my ear. I understand everyone's concern, but I prefer to make my own mistakes. Indeed, when a girl's infatuated she doesn't want to heed her mother's warnings, she wants to boast of newfound love.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010


I'm utterly baffled. I've had one of the weirdest weeks of my life.

Daniel and I talked for two hours last night via FB. This is strange because we never talked while we were dating. He would not open up to me, so we usually sat in a painfully awkward silence in front of the television screen. I figured this was because we were incompatible. Exhibit A:

I loved reading. He loved television.

I hated sports. He loved them.

I love fashion. He couldn't care less.

I speak French. He took the mandatory Spanish classes.

Within the past 24 hours I've learned that Daniel has stopped watching tv and started reading, is burnt out from watching sports, has donated his old tee shirts and has taken an interest in male fashion, and has been teaching himself French for the past two months. It's the most surreal thing. It's like seeing someone who idolizes you copy your haircut, buy the same clothes, and imitate your speech patterns. It's so strange to see your qualities reflected in another human, especially when that person is your ex-boyfriend.

On top of that, Pierre told me he's not sure if he's gonna make it to Asheville because he can't afford it. I figured this would happen, so I'm not devastated, but I am rather sad. I'll see him in 161 days, if nothing else.

And now my Blackberry is flooded with messages in French from- not one- but two different guys. I think I'm living the American dream.

Monday, August 2, 2010



Daniel texted me today to say he had been thinking about me. I thought he had said everything that needed to be said after he called me the other day. Apparently not. I told him I was well and he asked when I was coming back to Asheville. Like the dumb ass I am, I told him I would be there tomorrow for an internship interview downtown. He asked to see me because he missed my smile.

Well, shit. I didn't expect this guy to stay in contact with me because the last time he said we'd "keep in touch" he went MIA for two months. I laid it down straight and told him meeting was a bad idea because I was talking to someone. It would be weird to go out with my ex.

I was in the process of asking my dad for advice when Daniel called me. I ignored it and he texted me to say he had a few things to get off his chest. Fine, I said.

He called me to apologize if he had been overbearing the past few days. He didn't mean to stress me out. It was just shocking, I said. Because he tells me how much he misses me, how he had to keep himself from begging for me back. Like the time I saw him at Ingles before the Vampire Weekend concert and how he ran after me, but I was pulling out of the parking lot. I remember going home to Michelle that evening and saying I shouldn't have seen him that soon after we broke up (it had been a week.). It was just too hard.

Anyway, the last thing he said is that whoever I'm talking to is a lucky guy, and he better know that. Yeah, he better.

If this isn't surreal enough, his statuses lately have been lyrics relating to lost love. His most recent one looked familiar. It's because they're lyrics from a song I burned for him on a CD for Valentine's Day. Finally, I went to his FB page and noticed my favorite quote in my favorite book The Catcher in the Rye was posted beneath his profile picture. I know he hasn't read the book.

Well, shit. Guys just suck.

I'm still trying to hold the whole Pierre affair at arm's length, but it is hard. He's looked up the costs of tickets from Budapest to Asheville and is very set on seeing me for fall break. We'll see. I'm not convinced until he books the tickets on Aug. 28th. I hate being cynical because that's not me at all. I just really don't want to get hurt here, and there's a lot of potential for that. I just want to enjoy things while they're lovely and crazy and fucking weird.

CORRECTION: Daniel just told me he read The Catcher in the Rye last month. Wow. I'm very impressed. I recommended the book several times, but he used to tell me how much he hated reading. I must have made an impression on him? Or maybe I'm just being conceited. Hm.

Sunday, August 1, 2010


I've realized just how idealistic -perhaps naïve- I am. People whisper doubts in my ear, but I turn my head and continue on. I'm not sure if this is some great flaw of mine or if I am truly blessed. I suppose it could be both.

In literature, we learn that great men fall because of their epic flaw. Will my optimism lead to my ultimate demise? I suppose it's possible, but why not enjoy life until then? I'll frolic along in my usual fashion and if I do happen to fall, at least I should do so knowing it was a grand ride to the bottom.