eat.play.LOVE

I ate.

I played.

And boy did I LOVE.

I am a sucker for love, I really am.  A complete cynic about it because some of the not-so-great situations I ALLOWED myself to be in but still completely and utterly hopeful.  Go figure I would take risks in the most romantic country in the world.

I sometimes confuse "love" and "lust".  I swear, when it is THAT good, my vagina and heart don't know the damn difference.  Or maybe it's because they aren't that different.  At any rate, for the first...I dunno...5 months, I allowed myself to "love" a man that no one would have EVER expected, including myself.  

#1 - the 'nduja man

            I don't know exactly how "we" happened...no, wait...yes I do.  But I don't know how or why it continued.   Oh wait, I know that too..

            The first night we went home together, it was like he knew exactly all the things I wanted and everything my body needed.   In a snap of a finger while his mouth was still on mine, I found myself suddenly standing in the middle of his living room in my birthday suit.  He turned me around, pulled my hair, picked me up, choked me, bent me over and when round #1 was done, he took me to the patio room.  First we, took a break and smoked a joint (swoon) then, would you believe it...got right back to it.  Me on top, reverse cowgirl, and I am sure knees were involved at some point.  We exhausted almost every room in the place in one night.  Forza Italia! I remember when I finally got home the next morning to my incredibly hung over best friend....she asked me how my night went and all I could do is lean against the doorway and say, "It was just like American sex, but better".  I don't even know what that was supposed to mean...but I do know I wasn't expecting what I got.  And believe me when I say I was PLEASANTLY surprised. I must say, he was a man of many firsts for me.  My (sex) life continued with (only) him for the next few months and somewhere along the way my ass done fell in love with this bad attitude having, bi-polar-can't make up his mind having, softer side hiding, love the way he "loves" me, man.  With different guys trying to see me, date me or sex me...all I wanted was him.  Might have been perfectly happy with all his crazy, as long as kept doing what he was doing, to me.  Progressively, our late night hook ups turned into something else...not that we EVER got serious but lines turned grey. I found myself in a situation where he was allowed to do whatever, and possibly WHOever, he wanted but I was not entitled the same luxury.  Me simply speaking to a guy would result in an accusation of some sort.  Ugh.  We finally decided that what we had was not a good idea.  For either of us.  But that didn't stop us from seeing each other a few more times.  There's something about wanting what you can't have that makes you want it even more, huh?

          I can't say that the sex alone made me fall head over heels cos that can't be true.  We went a couple months without a hint of feelings.  I understood our unspoken agreement and AGREED with it.  Not only did I agree with it, I was all for it.  I never asked for more...NEVER.  I never assumed that we were more...not at first, at least.  It started when he first kissed me in front of everyone.  I was fine with people ASSUMING that we were hooking up but never asking, never telling.  But when he did that in front of friends, that caught me off guard.  Ok, he's drunk I thought...we can chalk it up to that.  But then it happened again...and again...and again.  The public displays of affection, me sleeping in while he went to work then dropping off the keys, the whispered "i love yous", the "I want yous", the invitations to places together...all that.  What a load of shit.  Everyone told me of what a bad idea he was...it's especially funny when you hear it from his closest friends.  But like I always do, I did what I wanted.  In hindsight, they were right...all of them, about it all.  But I don't regret a thing...

       The last 4 months I spent it with my, then, boyfriend.  Now opposite from Mr. 'nduja Man, everyone LOVED him and wanted us to be together.  So did I....so did I...

#2 - my Semi Dolce

      Little did I know, he was not always going to be this knight in shining armor.  

Boy did he fool me.  

         We met months before we actually dated... at a birthday party where my best and I were befriended by him and his friends.  From that night forward, we all spent quite a bit of time all together.  Mostly dinners at alternating homes and drinks out.  I remember the second time we hung out with them I turned to my best and said, "Watch, I am going to date him".  Since I was in the middle of a "situation-ship" with Mr. 'nduja, I kept at bay for months and played a friend role.

          And out of the blue one night, everything changed.  It was a typical dinner with probably too much wine and Willie Wonka, the movie, to follow after dinner.  To spare you the boring details of how it happened...I'll just tell you.  He kissed me.  And that was it.  Kisses.  How nice.  We didn't end up seeing each other again for maybe a week.  Or at least it felt that way.  I remember being so giddy about that kiss.  About how I completely caught off guard because it was NEVER like that with us.  And all of a sudden, here he is, making his move. I remember playing the situation over and over in my head, reliving each kiss, each move, each word.  When we finally saw each other again, it was just us two....going for aperitivo at Kitsch.  Against all of my beliefs in PDA, we sat outside watching a live band and making out occasionally while holding hands.  SMH.  So I guess we skipped the whole dating thing  and went right into being officially together.  Unlike #1, I took my time with this one.  I was in no rush and he never pressured me.  If a man can wait weeks after sharing a bed together, he's good in my book.

        The time we were together was like a fairly tale.  I felt I was literally getting swept off my feet.  Like I was the main character in some overly cheesy chic flick. It felt so natural and comfortable, like I had been doing this with him for years.  He was intuitive, a great communicator and made me laugh EVERY DAY.  I felt like I was able to finally exhale.  I never really got home sick until the holidays came around.  Gosh, he did everything he could to make sure I was as happy as possible during this time.  Stayed up watching American football with me, going home early to watch the Giants, keeping us busy with traveling and seeing different things...anything he could think of.  I even went home with him for Christmas.  We talked as if there was no end to us.  It was unfathomable that we would be separated.  Except there was one minor detail that we choose to ignore until the very end...I AM American and he IS Italian.  And I'm no expert but I do believe to make something work, you guys should live in the same country at the very least.  I had no choice but to come home but was planning on coming back after 3 months.  So we found ourselves at the airport in Rome saying "ci vediamo a presto" I will see you soon.  I was hoping that was the truth.  It fell apart before we could even try.  Long distance is hard, but even more so when only one person is trying.  I didn't know this man I was now in a relationship with, he was not the same man I met, dated and fell in love with in Italy.  It's hard not to feel resentment, even as I type this, but things fall apart so better things can come together, right?

#3, 4, 5 and 6 - my Forever Love(s)

        Seems like I came up empty handed, huh?  Sure, I fell in lust and then I fell in love and both tanked but what I left with, I wouldn't change for the world. I wish I can write each story of how I fell in love with each of these people, but that would make for a really long blog.

           These people are the reason why I can't wait to go back.  The ones who helped me acclimate, the ones who listened when I needed to talk, drank when I needed to drink, danced with me, ate with me, cooked with me and just let me be me.  The ones who tried to talk me out of yet, another one of my "great" ideas and the same ones who supported me with some hard decisions.

To my Gothic Girl, thanks for all the dinners, all the talks, the laughs and support.  I'll get you

to visit me one day and can't wait to see your home town down south.  

To my boys of via Guelfa, formerly via Ghibellina, thanks for the grill outs, hookah/movie nights, slumber parties and not making me pay for the two beds I broke.  

Ti voglio bene per sempre e ci vediamo a presto.  I promise. 

       

eat.PLAY.love

You (hopefully) read about my favorite foods in Florence in my latest blog EAT.play.love.
Following along with that theme, let's PLAY.

It is no surprise to anyone that I played and played hard during my time in Florence.  Rock it 'til the wheels fall off, right?  At 29, I felt like I had a lifetime guarantee on them bad boys. I wish I could tell you I watched the sun rise a million times but the truth is, we would leave where ever we were, the sun would either be down or already out.  I thought I knew some party people in SF, hung out with some in LA, did it SUPER big in Vegas but the truth is, Europeans know how to have a DAMN good time. And not like how we party either....only hanging till the wee hours because Molly won't stop dancing or that white girl got you up and at 'em.  Pure and simple, alcohol....slow and steady won this race.

So just like with EAT, here is a list of some of my favs along side with some of the honorary mentions:

Anyone who lived in Florence when I did or came and visited should not be surprised that LION'S FOUNTAIN on Borgo degli Albizi makes it first on the list.  Sure most of the shit shows I experienced originated from this very bar but the Bartenders made up for that by 10 fold.  The crew that was there when I first arrived in Florence had to be one of the most fun groups I have ever hung out with.  Just straight fun loving drunkards....just like me.  A Guinness and shot of Jameson is what got me thru most nights....but when it came to summertime, vodka lemon was the way to go.  Thursday night Karaoke?  Duh, I was there.  Sunday night live music?  Count me in.  Going just to go?  Yup, that was me on a nightly.  Wait, did I say "nightly" cos I meant ALL.THE.TIME.

Monkey Bar on via della Mattonaia.  The ONLY bar that has my favorite beer: NEW CASTLE.  They also have the bomb Indian beer but I can't remember the name.  The wall paper in their bathroom is....um, AWESOME.  Think comic strips meet 50 shades of grey.

Viktorias on Via Verde.  No one can argue that they had the best looking staff.  In particular, the owners who happen to be two drop dead gorgeous TWINS.  Mamma loves her some twins.  Ok, not only were they hot...but they were approachable and seemingly down to earth.  WHO DOES THAT?! And if you got a cocktail from them, ask for the special because damn do they know how to make a good drink.  Now this place is polar opposite from Lions.  A bit of an older crowd and mostly Italians but a good mature vibe. And I loved when Frank DJ'd....

Le Murate takes up a whole block between via Ghibellina and via dell'Angolo. This was the place that starts a night...not ends it.  Go around 7ish to grab a Spritz and some bites.  I miss aperitivo with my whole entire heart.  No happy hour in America stands a chance going up against this.  Now, besides the great selections on wines and beers (yes, they do have a full bar...)  the venue was AMAZING.  In 1424 it was built as a convent for the nuns, until Napoleon took over.  Then during WWII, they used it as a jail.  Now, people get drunk, eat and watch shows there.   Did I mention that there was a theater there?  The coolest part is that they still have some of the cells in tact.

Volume and POP Cafe in Piazza Santo Spirito.  You can either begin your night here or end it here....either way, I promise you a good time.  I am a people watcher for sure and this place never fails me.  For Volume, I fell in love with this place when I was first introduced to it because a friend of mine was show casing his art there.  This place kinda reminds me of a hipster bar in the Mission somewhere but with older people.  Artsy and packed, this was a great place to meet people.  Pop cafe...to be honest, the times I was there...it was after 2am and at that point...everything is either fun or not at all.

Astor's in piazza Duomo.  All I have to say is Martini Monday with Rami.  Yes, this is the same Rami that made that bomb ass risotto.  Not only can he make a mean ass dinner....but he can make a drink just by me saying "Vodka and not sweet" and hit the mark every time.  And was it Thursday nights 3 for 5 Euros?  You better quit it.  I did, however, find the Peter Pan to my Never, Never Land here.  He is hands down, the MOST HANDSOME MAN IN ALL OF FLORENCE.  but he's practically married with a child.  So I always just admired from a far and made sweet love to him all in my head.

Late late, after the bars close down, I'm drunk and still wanna party BARS:

Let me start with TWICE on via G. Verdi....people say it was named Twice because you never go there twice.  I am ashamed to say, I have...like 5 times.  When you are drunk enough and Cristian is DJing...it's actually not that bad.  Otherwise, it just reminds me of the Wedge at Great America....except I am waaay over 18.

Babylon on via Pandolfini was a cool little alternative for a more club type scene in the center.  It gets crowed as a mother fucker so if you are claustrophobic...do not go here.  If you don't like EDM, you probably shouldn't go here either.  I liked it...but then again, I love people and EDM.

Monte Carla on via de Bardi (private club).  Ok, this is an after the after party, party.  Full of leopard print, velvet, low lighting and people "smelling" the counter tops.  After the first time I went there, and left at 5am on a scooter with 3 people on it..., I described it as the Vampire's Lair.  You know that scene from Blade when he walks into the warehouse party and it's just a bunch of sexy vampires partying all night?  Yeah...right along those lines.

Teatrino on...hmmm, I don't remember but also a private club that is behind Lion's Fountain.  This place is way chill...they place music but not club loud type, show movies and they have a pool and foosball table.  Expect the smoke a pack of cigarettes in here...whether you smoke or not.

Blob on via Vinegia.  Also a chill place but they do have a dance floor.  Or you can go upstairs and play foosball or sit at tables.  Also a heavy cigarette smoking place but good music and lots of people.

and contrary to popular belief....I DID more than just party in clubs and bars.  Its nice to have a picnic in the Boboli Gardens in the Pitti Palace, ride bikes or go to the pool at Cascine Park, walk up to Piazzale Michlangelo and watch the sunset on the steps and drink wine and listen to the random performers.  Florence is a giant playground to those who are open to culture, art and different people....and of course, would like the option to party from time to time! And while these places were the places that I frequented more than sporadically, there are many other places I tried....let me know your taste and I will point you in the right direction...

EAT. play. love

I am a San Francisco native and I truly believe that we have some of the best foods available.  I mean, in a 3 block radius, you are able to eat anything ranging from Ethiopian, Greek, American, Spanish, countless Asian cuisine...just to name a few.  I totally took our variety for granted while in SF...

Now, don't misunderstand me.  Italy has some of the most fresh produce, seafood...ingredients in general, that I have ever had.  You can taste and FEEL the difference.  Mmmmmm...

So, in ode to the food that I miss the most, to the restaurants that served them, the people that made them and if you should ever find yourself in Firenze, feel free to use this as a food guide.

Antipasti:
hands down my all time favorite is the Coccoli:
This is normally served with prosciutto and stracchino. This appetizer is a native of the Tuscan region and absolutely delish!  It is fried pizza dough balls with tuscan ham and fresh spreadable cheese.  Now, if you have never had pizza dough from Italy, you have never had pizza.  The absolute best that I have had, and trust me...I have ordered it in every restaurant I have eaten at that offers it, is at MostoDolce on via Nazionale.

Primi Piatti:

for the Pasta plate, unfortunately you can not just go into a restaurant and order this...you gotta actually KNOW him.  The Risotto con zucchini made by the famous Chef Rami Stagli.

After a long night of partying, drinking and closing bar after bar...Rami suggests that we all go back to his house and have dinner/breakfast (since this is at roughly 5am).  We all stagger into his house and take our proper seats while Hampus and Lauren serenade Antonella and I with guitars and wonderful music.  Rami gets to work in his kitchen and in 20 minutes flat, we have our Risotto.  OMG, I died and went to Italian heaven.  I can never have risotto again.  Thank you for ruining that for me.

Pizza:

Everyone in Florence claimed their favorite, but mine...mine is the Buonparte at The Club House. The pizza is served with spicy salami and gorgonzola.  I only got pizza when Gregorio was working cos he baked it to perfection EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.  Too bad he is not there anymore.

Secondi Piatti:
for the main course, your trip to Florence would NEVER be complete until you have had a Bistecca alla Fiorentina.  This T-Bone steak is no joke.  You have to order it by the kilo at a minimum of one kilo (that is about 2 lbs for us Americans) and stands about 5-6 cm high (2 inches).  Like, WHO does that?  Me...and a few times.  I would suggest it at Osteria de Pazzi near Santa Croce.

Dolce:
I dont even have enough words to describe the house made Tiramisu and Cheesecake that they serve at 4 Leoni in Piazza Passera.  All I can tell you is that it was life changing.  Even if I ate across town, I would walk across Ponte Vecchio and have dessert there.

I am not saying that these are the ONLY places with the goods so if you find yourself traveling abroad to the beautiful town of Florence, let me know and I can give you the food tour!

What did you say? Che dici?

al·che·my

  [al-kuh-mee] 

noun, plural al·che·mies for 2.

any magical power or process of transmuting a common substance, 

usually of little value, into a substance of great value.

The language of love...do you believe it?  I didn't but I sure as hell do now.  I crossed the seas and found myself a whole new person.  PDA, cuddling and the whole cupcaking thing.  

I'm with it.  

Yes, he is Italian.  Yes, I am American.  No, we do not speak each other's languages fluently but we communicate on some higher platform than just verbal language.  There have been a couple times where the thought crossed my mind briefly what a challenge this is.  And will be...but we try and want to continue to.  This morning, he reminded me of the power love can have.  While we two different first languages, we have an alchemy that trumps that.  Ever have something so natural you feel like you have been doing it your whole life?  It's scary sometimes,  but so is taking a gravity bong rip but that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it.  Cos now, I live for the nights like tonight.  Homemade pizza with beer and soul music playing in the background with an unexpected love that has turned me upside down and inside out.  In the best way possible. 

Love is a little bit like fairy dust.  Makes you do things you never thought possible.  So call me Tinkerbell y'all cos I fairy dusted all over this place and with a little help, we found a magical power to create something stronger, bigger and more effective than any language.

end sappy love story.  

eat. play. LOVE.

As the seasons change

For the first time in my life I get to see the seasons change. Who knew a girl from California would appreciate the freezing cold, warm and fucken humid.  I have watched the leaves turn orange and fall crisply to the ground and I basque in the bone chill that allows me to wear my favorite boots and sweaters.  

Orange October. How I do miss being in San Francisco on the Embarcadero while the Giants play, feeling the city's energy and excitement. How all the buildings light up in orange to show love for a team that, before 2010, hadn't seen the Commissioners Trophy since 1954. Torture. I still remember exactly what I was doing downtown San Francisco during the 2010 'Ships...it still feels like it was just yesterday. This year, I was able to create different memories in a different country for the same team. Struggling to stay awake for the games that begin at 2am or waking up at 4am just to catch the last innings to watch them go 4 in a row with the birds. Going home early on a Saturday night because the man knows how important it is to me to see history recreate itself. Watching him sweat to find a streaming website, all the while lame ass Fox sports doesn't allow it so we resort to KNBR and watching the highlights in the morning. Now for the second time in 3 years we have once again claimed the top spot, 2012 WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS. What I would give to be at that parade and lay out on the grass of civic center to listen to the speeches of Larry Baer, Bruce Bochy and Pablo Sandoval. 

Disney Halloween. Last years girls Halloween was a force to be reckoned with. Getting ready all together, sipping Ciroc and taking a cab because we're responsible drunks. Party jumping because that's how we do. How in the hell we ended up in Ariel's car, I have the faintest clue. The biggest slumber party, although there was hardly any slumbering. Waking up to guitars being played and songs being sung. That's what the good life is made of.  As much as I wanted this years Halloween to be something similar, it just wasn't the same.  Planning for two costumes, I ended up dressing up as an eskimo.  And when I say "eskimo" I mean, a girl that was cold as hell so bundled up in sweaters, jackets, scarves, hats and boots.

Happy Gobble Gobble.  This year, I was blessed enough to have Thanksgiving come to me.  The REAL southern style home cooked meal with a chicken stuffed turkey and all.  It was heart warming to share this holiday with friends that had never celebrated this holiday or ate the comfort food that reminds me so much of home.  I loved hearing what everyone was so thankful for this year and in general.  I am truly thankful that the Holder's let me be apart of a holiday that I thought I was going to miss. Trying to explain what Thanksgiving really was is actually quite funny...in the "it wasn't so funny then" ironic kinda way.  Literally, a day the pilgrims cooked a feast for the American Indians to thank them for the land they were stealing and women they were going to take.  But for me, Thanksgiving, yes...it is a time to be thankful but its a time where family and friends finally slow down and take time to see each other.  Its a time where I get to stuff my face for hours on end with no one judging me.  It is, for me, the time when the holidays start.  And boy do I love me some holidays.

Now I am at the end of November and I am watching the decorations for Christmas go up.  I love this time of year...the warm spices, fireplaces, the corny Christmas songs that I love to sing-a-long with and watching ELF!  I cant help but feel a little melancholy.  Because while I am enjoying myself in this magical city...there really is no place like home.  

Real life dreaming..

Is this real life?

9 months later and I am still asking myself, "is this real life?".  Sometimes, I feel as if I am going to wake up from the marvelous dream and all of it will go away like it never happened.  I still can't believe that I did it.  That I am still doing it.  And that I want to continue doing it....

When I was fresh out of high school, I had these dreams of traveling the world, seeing everything and doing everything.  I was young and the entire world was at my fingertips.  I dreamt big...no, I dreamt HUGE.  There was so much I wanted to do.  While in college, I wanted to be one of those study abroaders.  Learning about different cultures, adopting a new language and creating adventures that no one could replace or take away.  Then, real life took over.  At a tender age, I began my career that took over my life.  With all the hours, all the days, and all the responsibility.  Every ounce of energy I had was spilled into it, willingly.  As I watched all my friends take spontaneous trips to everywhere, I ate, slept and drank work.  In a desperate need for change, I quit my job and I moved to LA for a very short stint.  I then began a relationship with a wonderful man and fell in love.  Like a roller coaster, we had our ups and downs.  When times were high, they were HIGH but when they were low, they were low.  It seemed as if there was never a good time to move to another country and watch my dream become reality.  But like all roller coasters, my love and I had an abrupt end.

With a new promotion, I once again reverted all of my energy into my job.  Focused on planning events for others, marketing plans, fiscal goals...blah blah blah.  I loved my job and my co workers became my adopted family.  My life made a complete 180*; new circle of friends, new place and a new outlook.  But something was still missing.  As funny as it happened (over girls dinner and plenty bottles of wine), God sent me an opportunity in the form of teaching English in Florence, Italy.  Ok, it's not what I went to school for....certainly not something that I had thought about before...BUT this was my chance.  Sure, I was 7 years older than what I had originally thought but I was not going to let this opportunity pass me by.

So, here I am now, living, breathing, seeing my "once was" dream come to life.  A month ago, my right hand left and went back home to the states.  Secretly, two things were happening....1) how was I going to do this without her?  I think I was scared...worried...was I going to even survive this alone? 2)  I needed her to go.  I needed to know that I could do this on my own.  I needed to know that we weren't using each other as a crutch to get through a country and culture that we did not belong to.  It is finally sink or swim and I choose to SWIM.  I am not going to lie, this shit has not always been easy.  But I never thought it would be.  Life is a beautiful struggle....

As I settle into my Italian life, sometimes I forget to look up.  I am busy moving around with daily routines and errands.  But when I do remember, it takes my breath away every SINGLE time.  The scenery is something you CAN NOT express into words.  In pictures, you know its beautiful but if you have never experienced walking the streets of Italy, cobblestones and all, you are truly missing out.  The city SPEAKS to you...even without any background knowledge, you can still FEEL the history.  But it's not only the scenery that I have grown so incredibly fond of but the relationships that I have made.  Nights on the patio smoking hookah with friends, switch hittin' from English to Italian, I sit back...smile and exhale.  Aperitivo with what feels like the United Nations round table, I take a sip of my Spritz and exhale.  Sunday vespa rides to Siena and back, I take pictures of the lovely Tuscan countryside and exhale.  Finding a Christian fellowship, signing up as a volunteer to feed the homeless, feeling normalcy coming back into my life...I take a deep breath and exhale. Roman wine tours, sleepy train rides, glasses of wine in Piazza Signoria and Sunday futbol matches in bed....I look at him and exhale.

Now don't get me wrong....there is absolutely no doubt about it, I miss home like a mother sucker, but I would NOT trade this experience for anything.  I know this move is not forever...at least I don't think it is...so while I am here, I am going to soak up every once of every adventure that is thrown at me.  So, bring it on Italy...give me your best shot cos I have been waiting 7 long years to do this and I am more ready than ever....

Brand new everything

When life slows down and you have a moment to breath,

you get a chance to reflect.

My journey overseas has been a whirlwind of experiences and emotions. Upon my arrival in January, the beauty of the old world took my breath away. Cobblestones and "modern" 16th century buildings flooded my camera and warmed my heart.


I then started my 4 week intensive course at Via Lingua to become a certified English teacher. Education aside, I met some people that I will never forget. Some are now past friends, with whom I created fond memories that I can look back on. Others, life long friends that will always have a very special place in my heart. One in particular, who's heart is bigger than most. Between us, the world stands no chance...aggressive and headstrong, I miss this lady with all my heart and wish she was still here to experience Italy alongside me.


School ends and we go in to a tornado of drinking, eating and meeting people. Funny enough, we end up frequenting an Irish pub that only Americans go to. Go figure. Despite the 20 something's getting shit faced  wasted, giving Americans their well deserved reputation, I enjoy this bar....a lot. It became my very own "Cheers"... Where everybody knows your name. I befriended a girl that works there that I describe as the "Italian me".  We share so much in common that it is scary and funny at the same time.  Stories, oh our stories....I am able to talk to her about everything and anything under the sun. To have an Italian point of view on things have certainly helped in adjusting to the culture. Besides, she can make a mean cheesecake and tiramisu.

I ended up getting involved with a bartender who also works there. Of course I
did. We both entered our "relationship" knowing where we both stand and seemingly understanding each others situations. As months passed, things entered the grey area, boundaries blurred and everything changed. I'm not quite sure when or how...and definitely not why, but they did. On both ends... and it was obvious.  Needless to say, he called it quits. As disappointed as I was, it was the best thing he coulda did for me. I am now free to hang out with someone who I can actually talk to, do things with and feel comfortable around. Forever may not be an option for us but I enjoy his company all the same.
 
Which brings me to the here and now. With "new" all around me, it's hard to not be positive about where I am right now. The new job is turning out to be better than I expected, I'm not suffocated by jealousy and my upcoming new room mate is the positive reinforcement that I need in my life.


I finally got to take a breath of fresh air...and now I can't wait to exhale.