...and Stuff Just Comes Out

runswithpoodles:

So, I’ve been seeing this guy for the last month or so, and I really liked him. Honestly, he was the first guy in the two years that I’ve been dating that I could actually see it become something, which was both awesome and kind of terrifying. And of course I didn’t talk about it on here much…

Oh gosh, I remember dating in Portland [example: most of this blog]…and all the damn run-ins that go with it!  And also all the men who just like to turn into something highly disappointing just when you start thinking maybe…  In retrospect, I’ve reached the conclusion that dating in Portland is great so long as you’re just doing it for fun; if you want some real though…I don’t know, it clearly didn’t work for me.

But umm, Unicorns are awesome, and so are all the women of Portland, so men of Portland as a general group really just need to get their shit together.

Also saving this from the other blog because this man is still one of my favorite people even though I’m pretty sure the last time I spoke to him was over a year ago.  We regularly stalk each other on FB, like each other’s photos, and text about needing to have a catch-up session soon so we can tell each other about these significant others who are making us feel like all the romantic misery of our lives in Portland was worth it and in a very warm, fuzzy, comfy, favorite sweater kind of way he still has a big chunky piece of my heart.

spacesinmyheart:

Sometimes I wonder about this man.

Like every time I look at the only photo of us that exists. It’s the only photo I’ve taken so far where I look like I belong next to the man standing by me. You know, that harmony you see in photos with people who you know belong in your life?

Or when at the very moment that I’m staring at our picture and wondering, he suddenly pops up on IM to share some good news with me.  

Or when something reminds me of the first time we saw each other - one of those moments I’ve only ever read about; one of those moments that are supposed to happen only when you meet the eyes of your soulmate for the first time.

Or when I think about those nights when he held my hand as we slept - no matter who turned or got up during the night, every time I woke up enough to be aware of things, his hand was in mine.

Or when I recall his behavior during the time I was upset with him enough to not respond to any of his attempts to communicate.

Or when I remember that sex with him, drunk or sober, felt more like making love.

At those times I wonder if maybe he’s the One and our story will just take years to unfold.

But then I remember that I was never able to say “I love you.”  How can someone be the One if I’ve never been able to look into his eyes and tell him I love him?

Saving this as a reminder to myself [and anyone else who cares to take something from this] that even when I can’t see the light, the end of the tunnel is still there and my life for these last 7/8 months is the kind of place it leads to.

spacesinmyheart:

You know those days that feel like God is really testing you?

Those days when it’s really hard to stay positive and have faith that everything that is happening now is leading you to exactly where you’ll be the happiest?

Those days when you just want to slap the last group of stupid people you had to deal with across the face but instead you get in your car and you turn up the music because you promise yourself you’re not going to cry and Top 40 normally only makes you cry when stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic, but by the time you park your car at home you’re sobbing like someone just punched you in the heart?

Those days when you walk into your room and instead of hanging up your jacket you find yourself standing in front of the closet door and holding it like your favorite stuffed animal and wondering what you ever did to deserve this?

Those days when you feel silly for not being able to see the light at the end of all this and you know exactly what’s causing your temporary blindness but there is nothing you can do to resolve the issue and you’re the kind of person who lives on solutions and plan As and plan Bs and plan Cs?

Those days when you feel like the world can just go to hell but you’re going to cry yourself to sleep because that sounds just as good and cozy as the memory of being held by someone you know loves you?

This is the second time I’ve had one of those days in the last couple of weeks and I really don’t like it.

sequinsandsideeye:

I’ve been a loyal Kate Spade fan, nay lover, for years. One of my first indulgence bags was this boxy black nylon number that every girl on campus had. I loved Kate Spade. The bright colors! The beautiful clothing and accessories! I just knew I would be a fan for life.

So when it came…

Adding racist employees to my list of reasons to not spend my money at Kate Spade.

I have only ever owned one Kate Spade item and the reason is that I refuse to spend my hard-earned money on something that’s more expensive than the average item and falls apart quicker than stuff I can get at Forever 21.  Back in 2006, when I used to make about $12/hr, I treated myself to a Kate Spade tote, thinking since so many people were willing to pay their prices, quality must be great.  WRONG!!!  The handles started ripping a few months later and less than a year after I bought it, I ended up replacing it with a Coach [this is back when Coach’s idea of design was actual design and not just splattering their own brand all over].  The Coach was cheaper, had a bit more design to it, and best of all - I STILL OWN IT and whenever I carry it, people want to know where I got it [the only place you can see the Coach logo is on the inside lining]!  I used that Coach everyday for about two years and it’s still in amazing shape!  

Seriously, I can tolerate by ignoring bad or boring design, but I don’t do bad quality, I don’t care how cute the stuff is.  And I don’t do racism and [as a former retail employee] bad customer service.

Also, I suggest everyone tweet this @katespadeny and maybe get this girl an apology!