A little bit

I sneeze a lot.
I have moss colored eyes. But the pretty kind of moss, not the brown moss. They become emerald like when I cry.
I tend to giggle uncontrollably, frequently at the dinner table.
When I am pensive or bored my tongue curls up in my mouth.
I dislike everything about my hair.
My brothers are all short and have small feet - compared to an average man. I am tall and have big feet - compared to an average woman. We are all around the same height and shoe size.
One of my pet peeves is dirty ears. It makes me queasy to see someone with visible ear wax. - I just shivered thinking about it.
I like to paint my toe nails bright green. No it does not look like my toes are covered in fungus. It's a pretty green.
I do not like to paint my fingernails, but I like to keep them long and shaped nicely.
I make up an alternate life in my head constantly. One where I have a completely different style of dress, live in a cute little vintage inspired home, and drink tea all the time. I told Madic that is what our life will be like in Austin.
I am in love with cowboys - perhaps that's why I feel so drawn to Texas?
I want to be a child forever but becoming an adult intrigues me.
When I was nineteen I pierced my nose. But because I sneeze all the time (never a gross snotty sneeze, just a dainty little achoo) I never got used to it and finally pulled it out. I miss it, it was fun.
I have had many boys (men?) fall in love with me, yet in between I never think I'm lovable. I've only fallen in love with one boy.
I often skip when I am walking to work.
I love daisies. I saw some in November once, it had already snowed twice and the winds had been unbearable, but there was a patch of daisies, holding strong. They look little and dainty, but they can survive anything.
I don't just read books, I devour them. I cannot set them down until they are finished, and when I have to I keep them nearby so I can sneak peeks at them at any free moment.
I have a problem with planning my wedding... no man in sight, yet I have planned my wedding three times over. I blame SIL and my cousin Kitty, they had me helping them plan their weddings so of course I was going to save the ideas I liked but they didn't use... so now I have millions of them.
I chew the right side of my cheek when I'm thinking about something important. My mother, my grandmother, and my female cousins all do the same.
I grew up barefoot. I spent my summers, and right up to the first snowfall, or until my mother noticed, running around the fields and woods without any shoes. In the summers I try to do the same. Although difficult when living in the city, I try to spend a majority of the summer in the country to let my feet be free!
I have been to an equal amount of countries as I have states - 9. Awesome for countries, pathetic for states.
My fingers are double jointed.
I absolutely cannot shimmy - I blame my plump rear end.
I am a hopeless romantic. Always have been, always will be. I want to swoon.

Could it be Cabin Fever?

Everything is boring me lately. Everything. I am bored with this town, I am bored with this job, I am bored with some of my friends. I'm even bored with some of the bloggers I follow. But there is no reason for it. Especially the bloggers, they are still shelling out brilliant snippits that make me giggle uncontrollably. But even when I'm giggling I quickly sigh and scroll through the rest of their post and then move on. Huge sigh. It is too cold to adventure outside. The snow isn't deep enough to do anything with, yet it lingers. Everyone is holed up in their houses. We all wear black, and we all feel blah. We need sunshine.
The only jolt of excitement I get (which isn't even really excitement, just a jolt above mundane) is the email conversation Madic and I have going - we're just sending little bits of information about Austin back and forth in anticipation of our move.
The emails are hilarious. Short and sweet, and full of information that no one else would really think relevant, just further proves why Madic and I have been best friends since the sixth grade. We understand each other. The emails started out with just web addresses, barely any commentary save "I'm in love" or "check it out!" The first website he sent was for a completely gluten free sandwich shop (www.wildwoodartcafe.com - sounds amazing!)
The other emails were about how he wanted to work at an old bookstore and I told him how I pictured us like little bohemians in a little apartment I had found. We spend our days scouring the website for jobs, apartments, and figuring out which neighborhood best suits our personalities.
It sometimes seems to be the only thing that gets me through the day, especially when it is 3 degrees with a windchill of -5 and the snow goes on for miles and miles. I am done with snow. I am done with the cold, I am done with not being able to wear pretty things, I am done with slipping on ice.
As I have said before, I was not born to live here. I have never enjoyed skiing. I like to sled and snowshoe, but you can only do that so many times. Living in a place where winter is the majority of the year is just not ok with me.
So I look ahead to Austin with great longing and a little lust. And in the meantime send Madic pictures of our possible new homes and plan how we're going to get his hot dog stand down there.

Parents!

My parents are the greatest. Maybe everyone thinks this. Maybe no one does. I certainly didn't in high school. I thought they were horrible people who must have had terrible childhoods so they didn't want me to ever have fun, ever. Looking back I laugh at the way I was in high school.
High school was actually amazing. I traveled by myself to France. I was able to skip school any time we had tickets to a Red Sox game, and skipped two weeks of school to make my first (of many) trips to Copenhagen. They let me make every major life decision for myself. Of course they would discuss decisions with me, but ultimately I had the final say. I find that I am most fortunate to have parents who let me make my own mistakes, to come up with my own life.

Many of my friends, and some people I've met along the way, have been extremely surprised that I have done what I have done "Your parents are ok with this?" I, in turn am flabbergasted when I learn that their parents chose their college, that there is no way they can go abroad because their parents want them to finish college in four years. My parents have never decided where I was going to live, go to school, or travel. They have never pressured me into finishing college - although they have voiced their opinions, and we've had long discussions.  They let me choose my path in life.

Although taken aback when I first told them I was deferring acceptance to the college I had fought long and hard to get into, they supported my decision to work a little. When I decided I was done working and wanted to volunteer abroad, they stayed up nights with me calling the U.S. Embassy in Kenya. When I decided to go to the college my boyfriend attended, they told me it wasn't a good idea, but it was my mistake to make. They taught me to deal with the consequences.

Because of that mistake, and a million other bad experiences that happened over the two years I was in college, I quit and headed to Europe. They supported me (not financially, just "we believe in you") throughout. They were happy I was able to experience Europe, happy I was close to my niece, but most of all happy I was happy. When things started to fall apart last September, they supported my decision to move home.

I am often in awe of the way my parents handle each of their children. With a brood of eight extremely different personalities, you would think they would go crazy. Instead they handle each "I've decided to move to Texas!" "I have this great idea for a new business, we're going to be rich!" "Hey, do you guys think I can move home for a bit, it will just be for a few months, maybe half a year, I swear!" "There's this boy in my class who is uber cute, but oh my gosh, Tori likes him too and she is so not playing fair." with grace and laughter.

I'm the one who has decided to move to Texas. My best friend and her family are staying at my inn this weekend and this topic has made me once again thank God for my parents. When I told them I was interested in looking into moving to Austin, my mom at first replied with an exasperated "Not again!" But after a talk, "If you feel like this is where you'll be happy, and you'll be able to get a good job and have a good place to live, then you should do it. But please do not fall in love and decide to stay in Texas forever!"
Mom has a terrible fear that she will never be near her grandchildren, since the first two are in Copenhagen and B2 lives on the opposite side of the country.
Anyway, I told Tine I was planning on moving to Texas, and thought maybe she could do her MIT program there. Her mother had a fit. There was no way her daughter was moving to Texas. Was I insane? Were my parents insane? Tine looked at me with an expression that said it was never going to happen. I sulked.
But no, I do not think I am insane. I have always wanted to live in Texas. As of April I will be unemployed, I am single, I am young, and Madic is moving there and asked me to go with him. This is my opportunity, why would I pass it up?

I should get a button, or a token, or something!

Today marks the seventh full day of being facebook free. Boy has it been a struggle.
Isn't that the most pathetic thing you've ever read? Going a week without facebook has been a struggle! Which is exactly why I deleted my facebook.
I had become obsessed. I checked it a hundred times a day, I never actually signed out of it, just kept it in the background. And I became an expert stalker. There would be times where I would realize that I was on a friend of a friend of a friend's page looking at their pictures from July. What had I become?
I knew it was getting bad when I would be having a real life conversation and would want to reach out and click an imaginary "like" button when they said something that made me laugh, or was just plain brilliant. But the final straw? I got on one day to look at some pictures and the picture viewing feature had changed. Another thing changed.
I am young and should be able to bounce back from changes, quickly adapt, that sort of thing... but I just cannot do it with facebook. Each change gets me more annoyed. Last week I was grumbling over how they changed the way you can handle Events, making it really difficult to contact everyone who was invited. I was managing my restaurant's facebook page and getting extremely frustrated when I couldn't update the guests. So that was it, I was finished.
And I've done it! One week!
I am sure I will go back at some point, I realized a little too late that I do not have some of my Copenhagen friends' email addresses or skype names... so no way to contact them. And I am moving again, so my mother will want to stalk every bit of my life.
But for now, I am facebook free, and feeling oh so proud!

Boonomadic Rules of Living...

"You need to stop watching crappy tv, I'm going to make up an acceptable book list for you, you need to get back to reality."
Yep, that was Boonomadic, who is apparently my new life coach.
It came up after I cried to him about my ridiculous weekend away, and how Penn is toying with my emotions. "And then, *sniff* I watched a movie last night *sniff* and there was these two people, and they *hiccup - cause I'm just so upset!* hated each other... and then... oh my god they fell in loooovee!"Burst into tears. - not really, but I may as well have.
With that public display of a sad and lonely spinster, he felt the need to step in.
And so the Boonomadic ground rules were laid out:
1.) Penn was great, we all loved Penn, but he lives hundreds of miles away. And he has a new girlfriend. And even if he says he loves you (which he did on Saturday... blah..), that means nothing when he is hundreds of miles away and has no plans to move up here. It is time to cut him out for awhile.
This my friends is easier said than done. Especially since Boonomadic is saying it and I am just sitting there listening and nodding like a child who is told that too much candy will make her sick. Will it really?? (The answer is yes. I learned that yesterday.)
2.) Stop watching romantic comedies and crappy television. Put down your maudlin novels. Seriously? Who talks like that? They do not make you feel better.
I cry again, "It's because I'm destined to be a cat lady! wahhh! They are my only bit of romance!"
3.) Shut up. We both know that isn't true. We both know every time you go out you get hit on by almost every guy in the bar. So shut up, open your eyes, and let a guy ask you out.
4.) Have fun. Stop being a Hermit. Go out, and if you meet a guy do not think you are going to marry him after five minutes of chatting. Just have fun.


So I leave the cafe we are at after having two cups of coffee and eating all the valentine's day chocolate I had bought for him, ready to start my new life according to Boonomadic.
First things first, Penn. Ending things with him - even though we haven't really dated since August - made me silently wimper, and put me into a funk for most of the day. But I did it.
And, as if God looked down at me and said "I'm proud of you for doing that, so I will give you a treat!" This happened:
I was sitting at my desk at work and Hunky Waiter came in. HW is probably the only cute boy left in my town. I have spent many a day giggling and swooning over him, and one drunken staff party blatantly flirting with him. But he has had this gorgeous girlfriend for two years now. She is blond, perky, and perfect. The last time we talked he went on and on about how amazing she was. gag.
Anyway. HW was at my desk, being all suave and attractive and asking us "ladies" how our Valentine's days were. My desk companion gave a small recount of how she put her toddler to bed and was herself in bed by 8:30. Romantic.
Then he looked to me. "Oh, you know, just hung out with my sisters. Ate two giant heart boxes of chocolates. Watched movies... the usual." With a little pfff, who cares about Valentine's day? "What'd you do?"
"Nothing."
"Why? You didn't do anything for your girlfriend?"
"I don't have a girlfriend anymore."
Now, I had thought I had kept it together very well. I thought I was showing a look of concern and a tad bit of pitty when I told him I was sorry and I hoped he was ok. But, as it turns out, there was a grin plastered on my face as I gave my apologies. I am so cool and collected, you should all be jealous.
When he left I turned up to the heavens and gave a wink and shot a finger gun up at the big man, you rock.
And later that night when HW called to ask me out I did a double gun salute and a little victory dance. Because I am cool like that.

So Boonomadic Rules of Living Less Pathetically - check off 1, 3, and 4! Number two? I'm sorry Madic, my love, but that just isn't happening. Cat lady or no cat lady, I need some unrealistic, over the top, smutty love in my life!

Summer, meet the family

My little brother, B5, is what I call a player. Confidence spills out of him. He is tall (well, one of the tallest in my family, but I guess that isn't really saying anything), fit, and has the most adorable dimples in the world (when he was little, I thought it was adorable, now I think they are ridiculous, mostly because I am one of the two children of eight who did not inherit dimples). And he knows it.
Every time I talk to him there is a new girl in his life, and of course she is the "most beautiful girl he has ever seen - and extremely smart too!" I am pretty sure I am going to hate whoever B5 ends up with because she is going to be perfect - beautiful and brilliant, two things I definitely am not. And yes, I hate people like that a little bit... because I'm jealous. Whatever.
B5 also has the habit of accidentally not breaking up with a girl. His story is, he never knew they were actually dating, that girls just read in to things too much. My mother holds that these girls are idiots, because here son could do no wrong. My theory: my brother is too much of a flirt, and I'm sure he makes every girl feel like they are everything to him. (This trait runs in the family. Except for me, I am the worst flirt, and I'm pretty sure I make all guys think I hate them... hm, could this be why I'm single? Whatever, this post isn't about me.) When B5 was home for Christmas I'm pretty sure he had 3 girls who were absolutely certain he was their boyfriend.
But thankfully he didn't bring anyone home this vacation. Since he started college he has brought a different girl home every break. He says it's because he goes to school in the Midwest, and we live on the East Coast, so he has to introduce them to our "culture." Because he's been bringing so many girls home, we started referring to them, not by name (because who can bother to learn their names?) but by season, or year.
Over the summer we met, well, Summer. This poor girl had no idea what she was getting herself into by coming. My brilliant brother decided it was a great idea to invite her to come while every other sibling in the family was home. This never happens, not even on major holidays, but on a random week over the summer, we were all there. And so was Summer.
Summer arrived just before dinner time. SIL and I were in the kitchen making burger patties to send out to B1, 2, and 3 (because who can flip a burger alone?), B4 (our live in bartender) was mixing drinks - B1 was on an Old Fashion kick, the little girls were at theater practice, E was probably sleeping, my niece was running between me and her daddy, and my parents were taking it all in.
Now I always try to be polite in the beginning. We welcomed her (Dad said, "welcome to our culture! if you need any help with culture shock, talk to E, she's a foreigner too!") and I did what I always do when people come in the house, offered a glass of wine.
"No thanks, I don't drink." SIL froze. Dad giggled a little and went outside to "help" with the grill, and I took a big gulp of my own wine, and gave her a smile, hoping it was an "that's ok, more for me!" smile, rather than a "I don't think we're going to get along" grimace.
SIL pulled herself together and played her part, offering food. "We're grilling up some burgers now, but we have some cheese and crackers here, how many burgers would you like?"
"Oh, no thanks, I'm a lacto-vegetarian." A few things went through my mind, first, you have got to be kidding me! and then damn you B5! seriously? you couldn't warn us?
That's when my mother left the room. My mother is the sweetest woman, but vegetarians really bug her. "With all the food allergies I have to accommodate, why on earth would you choose to be inconvenient?"
So poor Summer, she doesn't drink, she doesn't eat meat or cheese, she clearly does not fit into this family already - did B5 even tell her we own a beef cattle farm?
I went about trying to find food suitable for her... "Um, we have a lot of gluten free stuff that doesn't have any dairy, is that ok? Piece of bread? We're grilling corn on the cob!" And then I drank more wine.

Later that night we were all sitting in the living room (drinking wine), and B5 and summer joined us. Summer was wearing a skirt. She sat down across from me. Legs spread. I got a full view of her faded undies. Lovely.

By the end of her week long visit, in which she helped celebrate Clara's and my father's birthdays (awkward), we were all a bit sick of her. And you know what, so was B5.  


Disclaimer: I really do not have a problem with people who don't drink or eat meat... it's just, in our family, we do a lot of both... so we are very critical of potential significant others who don't. As long as you aren't planning on marrying into the family, you're golden!

Baby!

At 2:36 on Thursday morning I was awaken by a text from an unknown number, not only was it unknown, it only had five numbers. My groggy, barely seeing eyes stared at the number for awhile before opening the text. And then I stared some more, waiting for the words to unblur and form sentences I could understand. Finally I focused in, it was from my brother in Denmark.
"Good morning. E's water broke last night. We are on our way to the Hospital. The baby is on her way. Wanted you to be the first to know. Love, B1(brother number one)."
I wanted to jump out of bed and wake the whole house, the baby was on her way! But it was almost three in the morning and we all had to get up early in the morning, and the baby wasn't actually born yet. So I forced myself to fall back to sleep, despite being all giddy.
When I did fall asleep I dreamt of meeting my new niece over and over again. I first dreamt of meeting her via facetime for the iphone and ipod touch. Then I dreamt they came over to the states just a couple days later and we met in person. I kissed her and cuddled her and she was the most perfect little baby anyone has ever seen. When I awoke I was extremely upset it wasn't real.
Around 6:30 I heard the rest of my house stirring. Still tired and loving the warmth of my bed, I called out to my mother. She had no idea what the excitement was about. "Mom! Have you heard from B1?"
"No, why?... Did they have the baby?"
E wasn't due for a few weeks, but we had been expecting her to pop any day now. She was enormous. But lucky her, just her belly was enormous. It looked like she was hiding a basketball because her face didn't chub up, her arms and legs and even her butt were all still as skinny and as shapely as always. I am pretty sure I will hate her for it when I get pregnant because I am positive every little bit of my body will inflate. Her ankles didn't even swell!
But anyway, we knew the baby was coming any day, so me being awake and asking about my brother at 6:30 in the morning set my mom into excitement as well.
"I don't know if they have had the baby yet, they just said they were on the way to the hospital, they didn't call you?"
"No, but you know what, I woke up around quarter to four and just felt funny so I said a prayer for E because I had a feeling she was having the baby."
My mom is like that, always getting these weird feelings and sending prayers out, hoping they will land on the child that most needs it. It happened when I rolled my car when I was 17. She had a terrible feeling minutes after I left the house on the way to school. She didn't know what was wrong, so she prayed for all of her children. Every part of the minivan was crushed except for right above my head.
My mother skipped downstairs in search of the phone,  but there was no answer on my brother's end. "They are probably a little busy, you know, having the baby." My mom said.
An hour later they called, she was about an hour old and absolutely perfect. We planned to skype when they got settled back at home with my other niece.
It was a perfect little sight, my little goddaughter, greeting her new baby sister, just pulled at my heart strings making me wonder why on earth I ever left them. When my goddaughter was born I was there a month later, ready to snuggle and kiss to my hearts content. But now I have to wait until late April. Honestly I have to say, thank the lord for skype!! I do not know what I would do without it. I call them every morning if possible just to see the little one for a moment. Yesterday I watched her get her diaper changed, ridiculous, I know, but it was the most adorable thing, especially with my goddaughter looking on, offering her help and begging to hold her.

Not long after I first saw the baby I texted SIL, it was time for her to hurry up and have a baby, I need a niece or nephew on this side of the ocean!