Sabotaged.net

Archive for March, 2009

A+

Since I have re-enrolled into school, I have found myself frazzled over grades on several occasions. Today, I found myself explaining why: they are my shining stars. My GPA is a 4.0 and it is the thing I am currently most proud of. There is nothing else in my life that is solely mine or that I have worked on with very minimal help from others and fared so well. The few other accomplishments that I can hang on my belt, I share with others and I was merely a sidekick to the project.

I don’t have any other particular field that I excel at. I’m not a spectacular family member, nor am I a trophy wife that someone is proud of, and I’m a dangerous motorcycle rider at best. I try to garden, but even my easy-to-please hanging ivy is turning brown and crusty. In earnest, the only thing I haven’t killed is my cactus. I’m limited by my knowledge of how to do things and my physical ability to do the few things that I understand how to do. (And I am hyper-aware of those limitations.) No one comes to me for help building their deck, fixing their computer, or explaining why something carries more mass while spinning at a high RPM.

But, I can research the hell out of Joanna Baillie, Aristotle’s Rhetoric and volunteerism. I can properly lay out an MLA-style bibliography. And I can knock a literary analysis out of the park. I spend a lot of time formulating essays, double checking my algebra homework and writing detailed notes for upcoming tests. For the most part, I’m really proud of the outcome and am trying my best to keep it up.

On My Way Home

“Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes

Last Saturday night, Phil stated that I should come home. Being that we were both well on our way to getting inebriated, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and told him I wouldn’t hold him to it, should he not feel the same way the next day. We continued the night and filled it with friends, beer, and the smell of roasted Michelin tires. I was able to not mention the topic throughout the next day. We were sitting at the dinner table, stuffed with biscuits and gravy when I threw it back out there on the table. I half-way expected him to apologize and say that he wanted to wait a bit longer before having me move back.

Instead, he took my hand and told me that, yes, he does in fact want me to come back. Even while sober.

I kept a dry eye then. But, it’s easy now to get choked up about it. No one else has ever made me feel so much like I belong with them. I’m very blessed to have someone care for me the way he has and does.

Now, I can check Topeka off of the list of places I’ve resided in and don’t care to ever return to.  I’ve started the process of moving back. Updating my address again, looking at my options to get out of my rental agreement, and returning the few items I unpacked back to their cardboard boxes. I bet no one else in the world has ever been this elated to move to Carbondale, Kansas.