Part 3. The part that'll yank on your heart strings, in a good way.

**Sorry its long, but it has to be this way.. I need this story to end after 1 more part.

After lunch, we went back to the truck for our final destination (not like the movie) before meeting up with my sister. He hid his GPS behind his hands so I couldn't see where he was taking me and I was totally okay with it. Normally I'd have a "What the hell?" moment, but with him I didn't. I felt safe and that day, like nothing in the world could get to me.


Now, there are about a million and one places that I really want to see in DC. I am hopelessly in love with that city and all it has to offer, so when he told me it was a place I'd talked about having a desire to see, I was no closer to figuring out where he was taking me. He, of course, thought he had given me some great and glorious hint and that I'd figure it out.. Honestly, I didn't figure it out until we all but walked into the building.. besides, I was too busy looking around taking in my surroundings. He called me back to reality to walk into the Crime & Punishment Museum.

For those of you who don't know, I'm a Criminal Justice Major (I'm also an ASL major) and this was definitely one of my dream destinations in DC. I love all things Crime. No, I wouldn't ever commit a crime, I just have this crazy dream to stop the bad guys and be one of those bad ass lady cops, but in reality I really just want to interpret law. Moving on...

I won't tell you about the museum, because I believe everyone needs to go out and experience these places on their own. However, I will tell you that I don't think I've ever smiled and laughed so much in my life, especially at a museum then I did with him. They offered this 'Solve the Mystery' booklet (for purchase, of course) and you go around the museum, reading every single detail in each exhibit, learning about all kinds of crimes and criminals and of course working with the best Partner I could have ever asked for. Our team work was impeccable and unstoppable. It flowed and was easy, no arguing outside of a joke here and there, we read to each other, pointed out little things that we found interesting, caused some mischief touching the things we shouldn't (shhh! don't rat me out now!) and like champions, we solved the mystery. After a series of high fives and wandering around the set of "America's Most Wanted" (which was LEGIT btw) we made a beeline through the rainy streets of DC, jumping in puddles and me praying I didn't fall flat on my ass.

I should mention that after lunch and through out the museum, we started some hard core flirting, you know, standing too close to one another, brushing arms ("accidentally" on purpose) and hands. There was this electricity in the air between us. We both knew it. We both felt it. I strategically placed my hand closer to his than what a normal person would, just to see if he would pick up on it. Being male, he didn't at first.. but well, we're getting to that part..

We met up with my sister and brother in law at a sports bar for some happy hour drinks. The boys ran off to play some games and my sister and I sat back and talked about our days, mostly mine, obviously. I couldn't help but watch the two boys. Mine kept glancing back at me and smiling. Then we decided it was probably time to put some food in us before the raging bitch in my sister and I decided to come out.

Did I mention that He always gave his arm for me to hold as we crossed the street, in this particular instance it was to cross the parking lot to the truck. If I did, I'm just reiterating, if not, he was seriously a perfect gentleman.

We got in the truck, buckled in and I, being the sneaky snake I am, strategically placed my hand back in the middle of the bench, hoping maybe this time he would get the hint. He did. Next thing I knew, his hand was on mine and it felt like I'd been holding his hand for years, they fit together without having to make it comfortable.. it just was. Not a word was said about it, we just let it happen, joking around about the day and talking about plans for the night. We held hands throughout dinner, yes just like that stupid high school couple you love to hate, catching each others eye every chance we could. The 4 of us shared a bottle of wine and enjoyed a wonderful Italian meal. Then it was time to head back home for some drinks and talking.

We got back and immediately started drinking, dancing, playing drinking games and just making fools of ourselves. It was a blast. My Sister and Brother-In-Law took turns dancing in the full Army gear that He had brought along with him. It was hilarious and the pictures/videos I have are priceless. My sister and I ended up having about 372 heart to hearts that night, while the boys stayed in drinking... heavily. My sister and I were a bit tipsy, but nothing like the guys. Now, my go to "am I sober?" test is how well I can sing. If I can still carry a tune on pitch, then I'm good, if not, well I am probaby a sloppy mess. At this point, I could still carry a tune. I'll never forget the way he looked at me as my sister and I sang Justin Bieber (don't judge me, you know the lyrics too) and I then continued to sing the next few songs on the play list.

"You told me you could sing Ella, but I didn't know you could sing like that"

I about died. I rarely sing in front of people that are outside my closest circles, especially not ones that I could potentially date.. and there I was doing just that. After about 30 seconds, it didn't matter that I had done that, nor that he had commented. At that point, I'd have only sang to him for the rest of the time we had together, just so he would continue to looking at me like I was the only girl in the world and nothing else mattered but me.

I only knew one thing that could and would make or break it. The kiss. I wasn't even sure it would happen and I nervously continued about my night waiting, wondering and wishing. As the other 2 went to bed, we were left alone and my heart was about to jump out of my chest. He grabbed my hand, twirled me around and began dancing with me. I'm talking hand in hand, his other hand on my waist, my hand around his neck romantic, fun dancing around the room. He stopped abruptly, and I had a good feeling as to what was about to happen, my breath caught in my throat as he leaned forward and kissed me.

You know every single movie you've ever seen where you are just waiting for that inevitable kiss to happen between the two leads and your heart jumps into your throat once it finally happens? That was exactly what happened, only better. The room was spinning all around us (not because we were intoxicted), yet it was like time had completely stopped and we were the only two people in the world. It was a moment I will never forget as long as I live.

We kept dancing until finally it was time for bed. We both got ready, brushing our teeth, putting on pj's not caring that he saw me without make up and my hair all crazy, we crawled into bed and promptly fell asleep.

The story doesn't end here, although we are getting mighty close to an ending I never, in a million years expected..

My final say.

I don't know what it is about going to the bathroom, but when I enter a bathroom it's like an onslaught of crazy thoughts come into my head and completely take over. It's like an alien abduction without getting taken into space... or an alien for that matter... anyways..

that just happened to me.

but I'm thinking about my break up, the one that happened 7 months ago, and I need to get this off my chest.

As i was peeing, I looked down at my right hand toward the finger that was once home to my Claddagh ring. I took it off a couple weeks ago thinking it just didn't feel right resting there anymore. I mean, I (and I mean my mom bought it, hello I am WAY superstitious when it comes to Claddaghs) bought it out in Colorado, when I was with him, thinking it would just be a symbol of our foreverness.

I don't think I'll ever be able to wear that again.
I need to buy a new one, one that is just for me.

Then, while washing my hands, another thought struck me.... I remember being happy with him.. but I don't remember how it felt being happy with him.

In my mind, its like a sea of pictures screaming at me "HEY ELLA, see that smile? It's genuine... don't you remember that day?" over and over again. Wanting me to remember, wanting me to feel that again.

It hurts to realize I don't remember being happy when I was with him, I mean I loved him. The boy was my first real love.  I will love him forever and for always.

But it is time for the pictures to fade away in a box, in my attic.
Time for the stuffed animals and cards and notes to be stashed.
Time for me to be grateful and happy for the memories I do have.

and definitely time for me to move forward with my life.

As I was adjusting my clothes and primping my hair, I picked up my own chin, forced a smile on my face and will continue to remind myself that this is okay.

It's okay to move forward.
It's okay to feel absolutely heartbroken.
                                                                    but, only for today.

So this is my final say. You will not hear of this break up again.

Tomorrow, I'm getting back to me.


Stupid bathroom.
YOU RUIN EVERYTHING. ;)

You've been [semi] warned. I should probably divulge a little more information than this...

I was going to write about how I have serious anger managment/temper issues.. but I'm getting too pissed off because I can't find the right way to put it.

Bottom line, I have a temper.
Don't egg me on.. or do and see what happens.
Your choice.

Obviously this face is much better in person because I'm not trying to pose for it.
also, I got mad that I couldn't get a good picture but I'm at work and this is the best I can do. SO I'll just have to live with it.

Basically, things make me fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. It's bad. I'm constantly working on not getting so angry or worked up over stupid things, but usually I just get frustrated, which makes me angry, then I stress out over being angry all the time. It is a vicious cycle.

Will this make you like me a little more?
No?
I can deal with that.

[insert segway here since I've got nothing good to say as a transition]

Something awesome happened this week.

Blunt (Brit) over at Blunt Delivery told everyone that I'm better than Ke$ha.. or something like that. :]

She made me blush immensely in all kinds of weird places.

So if you are travelling here from over in Blunt's world....

Don't ask.. I have been playing with picnik.. okay??

*****

More to come this week (and probably next) when I talk about my need of acceptance and my epic laziness.

Get excited.

Baldy McBALD.

You guys.. I had (kind of still have) a bald spot.

It happened last year, around the time a friend of mine passed away.

I woke up one day and BOOM.

BALD.

I absolutely panicked. What the hell was going on with me?

WHY WAS I GOING BALD SINCE MY ENTIRE FAMILY HAS A VERY FULL HEAD OF HAIR?????????????????????????????????

obviously, I was irrational, I mean hello, what 19 year old wants to start going bald? Okay lets be real, who wants to go bald period? That's right.. the ones that do are few and far between.

So yeah, I was going bald.

Thankfully, its growing back now, as you can see from above. I wish I had a better picture to show just how bald that spot was. It was scary and embarassing. I'll look through pictures and see what I can find.

Anyways, I debated on whether or not to tell the internetz about my bald spot.

and since this my week of confessions, I figured I might as well.

To get back to where I left off, you know, realized I was balding, freaking out...

OO! OO! Ella, what did you do next???

Well, of course I cried to my mother and she immediately started looking to the internet for answers. I tried to avoid that because I don't want to think I have cancer before I have reason to think I had cancer.. if that makes sense. Then she started asking people. Apparently, its pretty common for women to get bald spots.

UMM... THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE.

So, I did what any rational person would do and I made an appointment with my Gynecologist because obviously my lady bits were making me go bald. Logic was not my best friend during these days people.

Turns out I stressed myself out to the point of losing my hair.

Yeah.

I was told to relax.

take a bath, read a book, write, walk.. whatever

I'm all, how am I supposed to relax when I know that my stress level makes me lose my hair which is stressful in and of itself because I really don't want to be bald, I like having my own hair, I don't want to wear wigs.

Yes, just like that, my stress level went through the roof.

and while my hair may be growing back, my stress level hasn't gotten any better. Some days it seems like I just shed endlessly and I am bound to go bald any moment. Others, I lose one or two strands and my hair calls it good. But the only common factor is that I stress over everything. Which I can relate back to yesterdays entry about me being a masochist (and an alienator).  

If I would stop putting myself in these awful positions ALL THE TIME, I might just be able to relax and probably stop losing my hair.

After I had this realization, what do I go off an do?

Throw myself into a pit of drama snakes and scream like hell.

Yes. I know, I'm brilliant.

How do you unwind/relax?

It's something I definitely need to work on.
My stress levels are constantly through the roof.
Help.

Editor's Note: Can I just say that I am very frustrated with the fact that this is all center aligned? I am, its stressing me out looking at it and yes, I tried to fix it, but it wouldn't take. I kind of want to punch Blogger.

The Alienator and the Masochist.

For some reason, people tell me I am good at things. Possibly because I am, or maybe its just because they want me to feel good about myself. Either way, people continue to tell me I'm good at things.

I know there is one thing I am particularly good at.
Okay maybe 2 things.. neither of which are terribly positive.

The first...

I am the QUEEN of alienation.
____________________

al·ien·ate

   /ˈeɪlyəˌneɪt, ˈeɪliə-/ Show Spelled[eyl-yuh-neyt, ey-lee-uh-] Show IPA

–verb (used with object), -at·ed, -at·ing.

1.

to make indifferent or hostile: He has alienated his entire family.

2.

to turn away; transfer or divert: to alienate funds from their intended purpose.

via

_______________________

 

I am ridiculously good at pushing people away, turning my back on people, and just vanishing for long periods of time. I don't know why I do this. I don't want to do this, but it happens ALL THE TIME. Its a wonder I have friends anymore after the bullshit I've put them through again and again. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm running out of time with some of these people. They are getting fed up with my antics and I can't say I blame them. I try so hard to be a good friend and to make everyone happy, but then I have this overwhelming urge to just run like hell and do the "loner" thing all over again.

 

What the hell, Ella?

 

Actually, I'm in one of my alienation phases right now. I want out, but I can't bring myself to just face my friends.

 

The second thing I'm UNBELIEVABLY good at...

 

I am a Masochist.

 

Throwing myself into the drama.

 

It's like I feed off of it. Sometimes, it seems as though I won't make it through unless I become involved with some sort of drama.

 

"Ella, its like you purposely throw yourself into the bullshit. You like the drama, you like hurt. What is the matter with you?"

 

Someone very dear to me said that to me recently. And they are right, for as much as I hate drama I am just absolutely drawn to it. Apparently, my mind treats it like it is air and I won't survive without it. It makes me feel like a masochist. Why do I get such pleasure out of the immense amount of pain I feel?

____________

mas·och·ism

   /ˈmæsəˌkɪzəm, ˈmæz-/ Show Spelled[mas-uh-kiz-uhm, maz-] Show IPA

–noun

1.

Psychiatry . the condition in which sexual gratification depends on suffering, physical pain, and humiliation.

2.

gratification gained from pain, deprivation, degradation, etc., inflicted or imposed on oneself, either as a result of one's own actions or the actions of others, especially the tendency to seek this form of gratification.

3.

the act of turning one's destructive tendencies inward or upon oneself.

4.

the tendency to find pleasure

via   (we are going to focus on definition #2 people)

_________________________

 

Yeah, I'm good at those things and I am not proud. I want to work through them. I want to get better.

 

I want to be the best friend I can be, because lately... I just haven't been.

 

So, this week, in an attempt to regain what little dignity I feel I have left, I am going to be writing out my issues. I'm going to turn to you, and hope you have words of advice or encouragement because frankly, I need to man up here.

 

I just hope I can salvage the friendships I have left.

My star creature is talking to me. Stream of Consciousness #1.

This is my first Stream of Consciousness.
I just really needed to vent today.

Here goes..

 Timer on in 3...2...1... Go.




I feel lost today. I'm laying in my bed, watching Bones, (which is possibly the best show ever) and I'm making this creature. Thats what I do, I get all weird and I start crafting, after I force myself of course because I need somehting to keep me distracted from the crap that is happening around me.

So I'm making this creature, before I had made owls because owls are my favorite animal in the world. Then I saw a star on an episode of Bones, yes I'm obsessed, and decided to make a star creature.. only instead of it being cutesy and bright, it turned kind of creepy and ugly, and despite the whole i could change it and make it into a pretty thing, I just keep moving forward and making the damn star creepier and creepier. I'll have to post a picture of this thing at some point.

I think I'm projecting my feelings of myself and the current state of my life through my star. It's weird because I didn't realize it until I stopped sewing today to organize my box of equipment and looked at it and just stopped in awe. It was like I was looking at myself through the eyes of a child. Don't you ever see the crime shows where there is an abused child, who destroys her barbie, because psychologically, that is how they see themselves. Now, I'm not abused so don't worry there, I'm just...

Yeah.
I'm just. Just.

Is that weird?


**
and thats time.

Here is the star I created: