I've fall-en, and I can't get up.

(As stated earlier, I like to take some time in between writing and posting, and this is a classic example of that... something I began writing in October/November of 2014. gosh. I like it, so here you go.)


Well here we are - fall: When the weather is getting colder at times but your never certain if you want to dress for those chilly foggy mornings or the warmer sunny afternoons.
                                 We often change our routine drastically, or get into one that seems to fit..........    something comfortable.         Ya' know, like putting on those your 6 year old talula leggings that are too short now and show off your ankles, that long sleeved hand-me-down shirt from your girlfriend and that pair of soft, weird looking socks your grandma put in your stockings because she said they looked "cozy."          

   I like to feel cozy. I like to feel comfortable. I like to feel warm and I like to feel like I'm my own ray of sunshine - and someone else's as well. Long story short folks, I have fallen. I've fallen so deep that I lose myself when I'm with him. I forget that I have a plan - a working plan to figure out what I need to do in my life to be happy. And I just love those times we spend together, where I lose myself, and he is all mine, and nothing else even fucking matters. I will cherish these memories my whole life.                                                                The shower we took in Pacific City after 5 days of wearing the same underwear,                       the Tuesday we spent in bed, literally, all day....  all the silly late night phone calls and messages declaring his love to me. All the crazy moments where he's looked at me and felt so proud and happy and confident like he couldn't have picked a better time in space to look at me and feel the happiest he could in that moment.    

    I don't forget who I am with him, it's just easy for me to get swept away with our time together that when we do spend time apart, I tend to mope. I tend to feel lazy, complacent and bored. Like WHAT THE FUCK?! Have I really become that person that can't function without her companion by her side?

 I need a fucking life.                yup.

YES, I know that I can't be sad when he decides not to spend my days off with me. YES, I know I that we need time apart to continue being in love with each other and not ourselves through each other. It's the time apart that makes us happier when we do get to be together.  And I love that. I love that he is a mystery and wants me to be as well.  And I love it, abso-fuckin-lutely LOVE it when he is happy as a puppy when he does get to see me and all I want to do is hug him so tightly that it feels like theres no heavy winter coats separating our bodies from actually touching. I love him so much, that it scares me, and I certainly know it scares the hell of him as well.

I read somewhere that when you fall in love with someone, and really TRULY care about someone else, (I guess you could call them your soul mate): it's because the atoms that make you both up were close together when the universe was created and have been drifting back towards each other ever since. BAM.    whoa.   pretty, epic      shit.  
                                 So I guess it's really only natural for me to want to be around him. And it really doesn't matter if we are doing something together,  sometimes I just like to be near him. To be in his presence. To know that I can be doing my own thing, he can be doing his own thing, but that we are in the same vicinity. It's comforting. like home, you know?

So what have I changed or learned since I first began writing this post? Well a few things:

1. I have to be OK happy being alone. 
2. I can't expect to see him every spare moment he has. (That goes both ways.)
3. I need to do the things that nourish my soul and make me the person he loves.
4. I can't let my fear of not seeing him today or tomorrow stop me from making other plans.

I'm sure I have  learned some other valuable lessons, and I'm still learning everyday. 

The beauty of all this? -> I get to be me AND be with him.

And really, that's all that I've wanted:

               To be with the man of my dreams and to be me. Whoever I am and may grow into.  

Always full of love. 

xoxo

Kate

On cold, clear nights...

I may have been drinking a few fingers of Disaronno. I chased a glass of wine with them after walking along Boundary road. The city skyline looks amazing at sunset. Especially on cold nights, when the air is crispy and you can see how hard the wind picks up the waves on the inlet. Stanley park looks like an island and all my thoughts wander into where the clouds meet the ocean next to it.         This evening I've been taken away to remember past loves.  Being currently involved with someone you deeply appreciate makes you think the big thoughts... I guess.

Let just step backwards a second here. Bass player on the cruise was one of the funnest people I've spent my time with. Hands down. Not necessarily fun as in we did a lot of things, we didn't do much of anything, really. Aside from hanging out in his room, drinking beer and shooting the shit. But fuck, did he make me laugh. I remember smiling so hard sometimes, I wondered if anyone could make me feel this happy.                                                  He did help me find myself after a tough break up and I'll never really be able to fully appreciate the time we had until I'm like 80 yrs old, watching my grandbabies have babies and wistfully thinking about their future love life and all the wonderful and horrible people they will meet along their journey.      I think all the men who made an impact on me, in some way (it doesn't have to be positive here...)   will manifest themselves in some form or another in my brain. And I know from time to time, it's ok to think about them , and to let them sit there for a bit.

Currently, stripes is a consistent figure in my life and I've grown quite fond of him (as you may have guessed from my previous post...)  but I've noticed more intense moments with him.   His eyes are so dark, and intense          and he just stares at me sometimes. Like he can see into my soul and he's acknowledging it an holding onto his with his gazing rich brown irises. His face can be so serious but all I ever have the urge to do is smile at him
                            and hug him
                                        and kiss his face
                                                          and make him smile.   He acts like he may not want to , but I know he's just craving someone to coerce his lips to purse, even if all he can muster is a slight upward curve of the right corner of his mouth.  Fuck. I love it when he does that.                       I really should't, but I've grown so attracted to him, that there's this primal instinct that warns me not to get too close, even though it's already happened. I wish I could curb this unworthy feeling... this feeling of contempt for his dashing looks and endearing awkwardness. Maybe contempt isn't the right word, but I know if what he's doing works for me, how many other eligible women are chasing after his heart...      In the end, it's none of my concern.   He is amazing. No doubt about it.   He is aware of my fragile nature, of my indecisiveness, my lack of organizational skills, need for space (and alone time), and my insecurities.  And with all these in mind, he wants to be with me. He wants to hold onto my shoulders or waist as we walk down the street, he is protective of me out in public and crowded places, he enjoys being "quiet" with me at home which means cooking dinner, followed by a walk, followed by long hours of talking, followed by amazing sex, and finally   ,  eventually,    sleep.                             He wants to hug me from behind when I'm cooking dinner and enticingly kisses my neck and cheek, he likes hanging up my coat for me, he unobtrusively questions my moves in life, and never, NOT ONCE, has shown a shred of dishonesty. I like that. I like all of that, very much. I like him. Very much.


xoxo
Kate









   

The Inspiration

It always comes without warning. Just one of those things that happens when you least expect it, and thats oddly the time when you desperately need it.     (Or when you decide two weeks earlier joining a dating website would be a great idea and a  helpful nudge from your best friend totally throws you into a world where subtlety does not pay off and men solicit you for quirky responses from message like "Alright, I totally have a thing for you eyes". ugh.)     When the universe knows your heart is crying for something or someone to help you realize your potential  =  Potential you may have known all along, but required a push outside of yourself to get it out.      
                                                                          And that must have been the moment I saw his smile.

That moment.          right      there    . When my eyes were touring the room and I managed to stumbled upon his and drunkenly decided to stop and smile at him, and wait for one in return.
       And he did.                  And I loved every fucking second of it.         I'll admit, there was a brief rush thinking that the man who I smiled at would just look away, and all that my heart, my creativity, my urges;  all that they desired, would be pushed aside and brushed over.        I was already in love. I didn't know him,      I didn't need to know him.    I just needed that smile. That catapulted me into the evening, and into the weeks to followed.    

You must have assumed: I was curious enough to solicit a friend for a number and seem to have stumbled upon someone who is equally as hungry for a passionate and inspiring love.  Maybe he wouldn't call it love. Maybe other people wouldn't see it as love (I'm sorry but it's pretty obvious I'm mad about him.....)  but I know just by the way he looks at me, how he makes me feel, and how damn easy it is for him to make me smile; that it has to be.            This amazing, inspiring person sums up all that I think is good and wonderful in a human being; he is kind, positive, loyal, honest and  above all: passionate. And he makes me want to be better; to do better, to go out and grab what I want.     Like all I've ever needed to do was to just fucking go for it.           and so here I am.              re-thinking my moves in life.    slowly toying with the idea that he'll be involved in it somehow. that would be nice... magical really.
       But for now, he is my inspiration.


xoxo
Kate

You're the best

I probably just ate half my weight in brownies, soaking in a warm bath for and hour and a half watching Breakfast at Tiffany's. Why is Holly so god-damned blind?! Paul is like the best thing for her. He cares about her and all her stupid quirky ways, all the stupid things she thinks a woman needs to do to get ahead in life.   Shit, it seems being a woman in the early 1900's didn't mean educating yourself, learning how to take care of yourself, teach yourself how to earn an income and love yourself. no, I think self-value in that era really meant finding a rich man who would take care of you so you could fuck and party and never have to lift your pretty little fingers.  And here is this penniless writer, who has nothing but his love to offer her, and she is so damn reluctant.  Fuck that chick.
     Great movie though.

To be honest, I should inform you that most days I begin writing an entry and often times don't finish for another week. I feel like I'm cheating in a way. Cheating myself for spacing the paragraphs with life, for allowing myself a pause between thoughts and the chance to really be sure of wanting to publish something onto the internet.  But, I suppose when it's all put together in a neat, nice little post, nobody but me will know.

and I suppose this will be it for tonight.


xoxo
Kate
     

I couldn't even spell his name

Well I'm at it again. I told myself I would have the best run and work out when I got home.
                 But all I did was make dinner and now I'm sipping on a glass of sauvignon blanc.  I'm listening to a somewhat depressing mix of singer-songwriters with songs being played mostly on banjo and acoustic guitar with tunes ranging from the saddest of love songs to the seemingly happy-go-lucky diddles reminiscent of an irish dance hall.  The fiddles help.     And I suppose now, its kind of a waiting game. I mean, it seems like things might be lining up. I'm making a point of meeting new people and being social, and it's tricky, believe me.   It's just to easy most days to just stay in, to have a couple glasses by myself, watch a movie, play some music.  But I've figured in the end, it won't get easier if I keep doing the same thing.

Usually my titles relate to something that's happening in my life, or perhaps a song I'm in love with at the time. But I think today, I won't write to you about everything... except maybe this one thing that was pretty awesome and cute and fun.

Saturday night I decided to cook my friends a vegan dinner. Only one of them is animal-products free but I figure we would all be vegan for one evening. It took me quite awhile to prepare the meal, I'd guess close to and hour, maybe and hour and twenty minutes. JP and MP both brought wine over and ended up cleaning my dishes for me. (a really crappy job, but super nice of them anyway...)  We were slightly stumbling on what to do afterwards, and I hastily encouraged we go out for drinks. MP was suggesting somewhere super close, only about a five minute drive. But, I NEVER GO OUT! I didn't want to hit up some old bar five minutes from where I lived. nuh-huh. I needed to go closer to where I might get a really interesting beverage... somewhere I could potentially oggle some members of the opposite sex. and so we headed to Falconetti's on the Drive.                                                                                               NOW, let me get something straight. I  am single, AND that normally means I can act all "yea, fuck guys! I'll knit and make cards and run and drink all I want, 'cause I don't need NO MAN."     but ,                 to be honest...                          nothing beats good cuddle at the end of the day and the reassurance that there is someone who will drink beers with you mid-week and have underwear parties and watch old youtube videos and create stories that have no meaning from some stupid thing one of you made up and then make out until we pass out. yea.                                                                                                                                                                       That sounds really nice.  

So what do I do? I get drunk and hit on men. I don't even have the damn balls to ask for their numbers myself! GODDAMNIT! But I have the drunken nerve to hug them when leaving a party even though I hardly know them, and probably freak them the FUCK out.
 So I solicited my manfriend to help a sista out.... Yea. JP got me his number.          only time will tell if this bold move will pay off..... only time.



xoxo
Kate

jazzy upright bass

I think of him often when I hear a good bass line. It coo's me with its deep moving melody. it makes me think of how convincing me of something came so easily to him.

• We should probably climb on the roof. yup, good idea; even though I'm terribly afraid of heights   
• Let's date for 8 months and not end up being together. cool. sounds like we'll fall in love and end up being really sad for the rest our lives!      
• You should cuddle me. I promise, we'll just cuddle. ok. (it never ends up being JUST CUDDLING.)       

 Fuck. I miss him so much. when I see his face pop up on my newsfeed, I get that giddy feeling and a smile takes over my face. and then I realize the facts:      He will end up on the other side of the country, he will find a nice girl who is preferably infertile, and he will be so passionate about everything he does, and inspire his friends, and fiercely love that nice girl.    And I, well... I'll meet someone. When I have gotten over mixed emotions of online dating and of sifting through the random messages and subdued sexual context. FUCK.

CLEARLY, living on the other side of the country is NOT conducive to dating. So, here we are.

 I made an online profile, I'm answering messages and I'm checking out different candidates. But is this really all it is? 'Cause quite frankly, if we were out on a real live in-person date; I wouldn't be asking you things I saw on your profile. I would have a drink to ease the nerves if you were cute enough, and really let you do all the talking.  I'd slowly win you over with my genuine smile and shyness, and make you realize you talk to much, and then have you continue to talk at me.

Truth be told. this is safe. I get to sit at my computer, with my leggings, a long sweater, a magic bag and now a warm blanket fresh out of the drier! Fuck yes!   I love being fucking cozy.

xoxo
Kate

Hide

oh fuck it.


Sit down, grab like 4 home made cinnamon buns and a big glass of milk, cause this is gonna be sweet.

I've known Tall Paul since I was 19 and dated a mutual friend of ours. I remember the "second" time meeting him. Guy walks right up to me at a house party and is like "Hi, Katie!" and I just kind of stare at him and reply with a "hi?  Uhm, have we met?" He played it cool and explained that we had briefly met after my bands concert , but I felt like deep down, he was slightly hurt that I didn't remember him. 'Cause I felt kind of shitty for it...

Well, let me TELL YOU! I have never forgotten Paul since that moment. I don't know if it was his enthusiasm, confidence, or simply his TALLNESS, but Paul became this permanent fixture in my brain. Maybe I didn't think of him all the time, or even get to know him all that well over the years, but I've always referred him as "tall and damn sexy Paul" (of course only really close girlfriends would have been privy to such sensitive information) but I guess now that this will be all over the internet, well.... now you are too.        Interaction with Paul never really got to the point of just us hanging out until I'd say, last year. I had decided to take him up on an offer of snowboarding, not really thinking that he would want to hit the mountain with me. It was a nice trip, I got to know him a lot better, and it basically ended with him offering to buy me a beer next time he was in town. I don't remember there being any major flirting, or any thing racy. Many stories were shared and smiles were had. overall, it left me thinking, hm. too bad he lives far away.

           Fast forward to August this year: He's in town for a month and I finally decide to head out to an event he is at. I felt like, "you know what? fuck it! I'm going to wear that belly baring crop-top and get some kind of reaction out of him",...... IF indeed he was interested. I'll be honest here, I am a confident woman and I like to think that I have a sense about these things. And I've felt like I may just be his type...... Cause he's always been one of mine.           So I get to the venue for our friends band and he's like the first person I see walking in. He's sitting facing some of his friends and our friends dad and he turn around just as I walk in. and smiles.         Yup. that smile.   that did it.       That smile totally made my night. I'm sure it was just a friendly "oh hey! It's so great to see you again!" smile, but, It hit me hard. That silly, charming, enthusiastic and ridiculously good looking smile gripped my heart strings and put them at ease. I would play it cool tonight. I would enjoy myself. I would get some drinks, and I would slowly make it obvious to him that I would want what was on his mind too.    I made sure to stand tall, in all of my 5'2" glory. I would stand tall: not to attempt to rival his 6'3 stature, but to portray the sense that I can be strong, hold my own.... aaaaand maybe give the illusion that my waist is a bit thinner at the center, and have him want to put a hand there. its a nice place to touch, and to rest a hand.
                 and he did. a few times. Thats when I knew it was cool. It was like an unspoken "yup, lets drink to calm the nerves and flirt some more now." And we did. He bought pretty much every round and every so often, after we would roam the bar and mingle, we would find each other again and continue chatting, and he would happily place his hand on my thigh after we laughed, or place his hand on the small of my back, or on the curve at my side as he leaned in to say something close to my ear.                                       I knew by the time we were at our friends house for an after party, I may have had a bit too much. We mixed some drinks and shared them. and somehow managed to share a spot on the couch, where I blatantly rested by legs up onto his, for all to see. I think this may have been a bit bold. Maybe too obvious. But I figured if he was going to flirt with me in front of everyone, and not be shy about wanting to touch me gently on my back, my leg, then damnit! I was going to try and get close to him.       I remember things ending with us leaving the house and having agreed that we would catch a cab back to my place, and he would stay.            We had just put on our shoes and were walking out of the door when JP runs out to tell us that he would drive us home.   oh man. that was nice of him, but it certainly wasn't music to my ears. The whole ride home, Paul sat in the front seat and reached his right hand around the side of the passenger side (JP has a right wheel drive...) and grabbed for my hand. and held it. and stroked it. and made me want him. and when we got to my apartment, I drunkenly told him "I'd invite you up, but I think I've had too much.. and JP drove us... "  

We never talked about that night until Montreal. and John never knew about Paul grabbing my hand until I told him later in November.      

             Paul lives at the end of a 5 hr plane ride on the eastern side of Canada. and my on my first night there, he kissed me while we cuddled on his apartment couch watching Sunny in Philadelphia.   and I though for a moment, maybe this could work.




xoxo
Kate