My boyfriend is so handsome. Also, this is our first picture we've taken together in at least a year.
I think we need more together.

I was caught sleeping under my desk.

When I don't have Puma around to cuddle, I cuddle my tiger

Bored and unable to do actual work so I decided to play with one of our Traumatic Brain Injury model exhibits. It's brain is squishy

mmm brainssss

There's something about staying up late, feeling incredibly sick from the dinner that tried to kill me, but getting to talk to R about things that is just amazing. That's the way it's always been, whenever we hit a rough patch, the resolution is always worth it. There's nothing so far that we haven't had to work through that put a wedge between us, drove us further from each other.
Quite the opposite, we come closer and closer. Closer in ways that we didn't think were possible.
In a weird way we both agreed that we don't dread fights, disagreements, etc. Whenever they arise it almost sort of makes us each excited in our own way because the outcome is always more than worth whatever rough patch we hit.
I'm content. I'm happy. I feel more secure than ever before. I know I'm going to spend the rest of the day all moon-eyed and sigh-y.

I'll stop gushing here and go look at cute things til I melt.

Apparently, I have a streak of exhibitionist in me. *throws open curtains*

This weekend was a mixture of amazing high points that were quickly smashed by silly and uncalled for anger. I'm more or less okay with this. I'm concentrating on the high points where I was lost in the moment and having more fun than I can ever remember, over crying myself to sleep in the bathtub and the fact I haven't slept in my own bed for a few days now. I slept on the floor for the better part of a decade, I can take a few nights on the couch. What I can't take is waking up to a creepy spider crawling up my towel (doubling as a blanket) and staring me in the face like, "Hai, ermmergerd it's time fer you to wake errrp!" and I just go, "Yeah fuck you, spider. It's time for you to meet my shoe."
I went over to my sister's house yesterday still feeling groggy from the night before (I found a new friend in Johnny Walker Black) She and I don't talk a lot and or spend much time together. There's a lot of very good reasons behind this but I'm also very aware people do grow up and change and so every once and a while I will start to wade back out into that pool and see how quickly I get dragged under again. I have to say, it was very pleasant. She and her roommate make the perfect couple. Too bad he's gay. I'm super jealous of their perfectly decorated house. I guess that's a perk of having both a sense of fashion and a gay roommate. My house looks like it was dragged out of a dumpster (I won't lie, most of it was). One day I will have a pretty house that I may or may not allow people to come into. For now, my home is my den, and I don't allow just anyone into my den. It's the one last place I feel truly safe. I actually sleep here. I never did that at my mom's house. I slept in parking lots or crashed at friend's houses after days of not sleeping. People like to tease me about being an old person now, I go to bed at 11 on week nights, I don't go out on week nights (though there was an exception this week, and most likely next week as well). I am jealous with my sleep. We've only become lover's in the past year or so. I cherish my rekindled relationship with my pillow and fuzzy blankets.

All in all it was great. There were major downer moments, I won't lie, like the headache I got last night after watching Dredd 3D. There were shots where the 3D was AWESOME but mostly it was hard for me to try to figure out how I could adjust my position to get rid of the halos. Stigmatism and 3D just don't mix. Lesson learned. Still love the movie though, cannot wait to pick it up on Blu-ray and watch it at home. I don't think some of the terrible bits were all that unexpected. R completely flipped out on me after the hot tub and beer party, but in the end, I don't think it was that unreasonable (yes, he was COMPLETELY wrong, that he has admitted even though I still place the blame unfairly on myself). There's still a lot we need to talk about but the fact that he spent all of yesterday in complete apologetic mode is a good star. That's something that only happens when he knows he reaaaallly effed up (where as I'm in complete apologetic mode all the time because that's just how I am (read: massive guilt complex). Oh I'm taking up bits on the Internet with my drivel? I'm so sorry! I breathed the same air as you? I'M SO SORRY! I exist even when I don't want to; I BEG YOUR FORGIVENESS.
You get the picture.

It's getting a little bit weirder and harder to be a totally different person depending on the situation. I feel like I can't be totally open and honest about anything and everything depending on the situation. I have to censor myself alllll the time. Like on here, I know there just is stuff I can't put on here (mostly in case someone from "real life" finds out this exists. It could cause major problems. Plus there is always that fear of judgement that has been so thoroughly engrained in me from childhood. It's funny the type of reactions I get to certain things I say or post on here. It's totally shocking to some people! :O But I can't help but chuckle to myself because whatever it is that is "shocking" is so completely tame compared to the half zillion other things that I come here to write or talk about and then end up deleting. I don't want to shatter everyone's perception of me (whatever that perception may be). Then there's there niggling idea of creating a "anonymous" account. We'll see. At the very least, I can be completely me with R. I guess that's all that really, really matters.

warning: just don't read this. it's stupid and dumb and I just needed to rant, just keep scrolling down to your next subscription update.

Last night was horrific. I say this because "food disappointment" is a big freaking deal to me. I may be a stick, but my emotional state and food directly impact each other. Whenever I get a hankering for something to eat, I get really excited about the possibility and just everything about it. For the past 3 months I've been dying to go to Cracker Barrel to get some chicken 'n dumplings. R can attest that going there has been all I've talked about for the past 3 weeks. We were supposed to go on our way back from the beach, but we got in a spectacular fight on the way home and at the light right before Cracker Barrel he slammed on the brakes to stop at a yellow light which caused his tires to lock up and squeal and we skidded. I freaked out. I can't help it. I get freaked out in cars, especially when I'm not driving. I grabbed my legs so hard in fear that a week later I still have bruises where my fingers dug into my thigh (it actually took me a few days to realize that's where the odd looking bruises came from. I'm surprised I didn't rip through my skin. Good thing I keep my fingernails filed down at all times).
He got pissed that I freaked out at the legitimately scary situation and just yelled, "Ok that's it, NO Cracker Barrel. That's right, we are just going home."
It would have been less devastating if he had just broken up with me. Seriously, I cannot handle having food disappointment. Especially after I spent all day talking about it (and the entire week prior. I was actually excited to leave the beach just for chicken 'n dumplings.)
It was just ungodly cruel to be punished like that. R didn't realize this was how I felt until 3 days later and let's just say that he cried when he realized just how bad that hurt me. I know he didn't mean it out right as a punishment but that's how it came across to me. (god I'm crying right now just thinking about it again).

So last night. Last night we went out on a double date with another couple (the husband is actually going to officiate our wedding. R and I decided on this like a year and a half ago). They had free passes for 4 to a movie and we figured dinner and a movie sounded perfect. Cracker Barrel was our final choice. Needless to say, I again became really excited about chicken 'n dumplings. It's my ultimate comfort food. Everything is right with the world when I eat them. I know this is so messed up and crazy but it's true. I had my order ready 3 days before we even went. I was going to get the dinner with 2 sides of extra dumplings (leftovers for lunch) and a side of green beans (because they're green beans are the bomb). We placed our orders and I was just so incredibly excited.

And then the waiter came out and they were out of dumplings.

I wanted to go home after that. It was all I could do to not just start crying right there in front of everyone. (I mean fuck I'm crying right now just thinking about it again). I've said it a thousand times, I cannot handle food disappointment. It crushes me to the core. (again, I know this is extremely fucked up. I think it stems from the fact that growing up we never had food. I ate maybe once a day because that's all the food we had. BMT was the only time I've ever had the option to have 3 real meals a day. Even today I don't have that option, just too poor.) Food is a big deal for me. Food that I can actually eat and enjoy is a bigger deal. I don't know how to change this. I know it's just silly and stupid and dumb and ridiculous, so why do I get so incredibly upset?
I don't know. I don't really care. I just want some freaking chicken and dumplings and to stop freaking crying already. I mean it's just stupid food.

meeeh
/rant.

HORRIBLE picture but I'm in love with my new corset and found the cutest lacy red bra yesterday (that I didn't have to pay a million dollars for! 28Ds suck lemme tell ya
Alas, I could not get my silver fox tail or the boots I was also wearing in the shot. Maybe one day I will be able to take a decent photo. Doubtful.

I realized what my problem was. It's the fact that for once R and I aren't on the exact same page. Well, we're on the same page, but I'm a few paragraphs ahead of him, or at least I want to be.
I want his ring. I wanted it yesterday, last week, last month. I wanted it when we were standing in the ankle deep water alone on the beach at Cape Charles. I knew it wasn't going to come though. A part of me is afraid that it will be one of those things he talks about but never does. I mean, he keeps telling me he will take the Christmas tree to his parents to store so it will be out of my bedroom... it's October. 12 weeks until Christmas. Not really much of a point in moving it now.
And I'm afraid that that is how our relationship is going to turn out.
I already know my wedding won't be as special as my friends and all because I know none of them will show up or genuinely be happy for me. At the most I think they'll just be happy that I'm finally not "living in sin" anymore, instead of celebrating how far we've come and all that we've accomplished together.
I want his last name. I wanted it before I packed up for BMT March 30, 2010. I fucking hate my last name. I hated being called, "White". I still hate it now every time I have to say my full name, write my signature, etc. My sister asked me for my signature the other day, she wants to get the signatures of different family members as tattoos. I begged her to let me wait. I don't want to see that last name on her body forever. It's a constant reminder of the one person I want to erase forever out of my life. If it wasn't such a hassle I'd go ahead and change my name now, but I keep waiting for R. If I'm going to marry him then I'll just wait for the hassle then instead of having to do it twice.
He says he knows I'm the one he is going to marry and spend his life with. He's taken me to a jeweler to get my ring finger sized. He says not to worry, that it's going to happen. I believe him. I'm just impatient. And worried, because he's not good at doing what he says he is going to do (the Christmas tree is just one example...)
I woke up and told him this last night. I had finally figured out what was eating away at me. And it's because I feel out of step with him, when we are usually in perfect stride.
He kissed me and reassured me. And then said, "But I'm not going to let you dictate when I decide to propose."
That's fair.

then why the fuck and I crying?

In my last picture I had a couple of comments in regards to a stuffed animal that was unceremoniously stuffed into the couch, and asking me what it really was.

It's my Hobbes