An elephant never forgets...and neither do I.

Call me a freak if you want to, but I have a ridiculous memory.  It's both a blessing and a curse, I promise.  I don't know how or why my brain keeps the most random factoids filed away for a rainy day, but it does...and it never ceases to amaze me.

What do I remember?

Well, it depends.  I remember birthdays, bits and pieces about people who were important to me in different stages in life, the smallest detail of trips I've been on or any number of other things.  If you're someone I know, I probably know something random about you that you might not even remember telling me...but don't worry.  I'll remember for the both of us.

My memory is precisely why my two male cousins that I've grown up with (on my mom's side of the family) have said, in no uncertain terms, that I'm not allowed to meet anyone they're dating or serious about until "it's too late" for them to turn back.  I have no idea why they would say these things.  I mean, it's not like I would out them for their serious obsessions with Hanson or their uncanny abilities to belt out the ENTIRE Jagged Little Pill album with the best of them.  Who would do that to someone they love?  I mean, really.

If any number of my friends are ever unsure of events, and I was around during said events, they know it will be accurately replayed for them, via my memory.  I can tell you (usually) how I met you, where it was, and something unique about it.  Usually.  Sometimes I have a lot of material, and sometimes it's just minimal.  Sometimes, people just don't rank that high on my memory scale.  It's a truth.  I own it.

Today, however, is a particularly special day to me.  Thirteen years ago, on this very day, I was hanging out with my sister and some of our Brownwood friends (remember them?), sitting on the floor in one of their homes, when the front door opened and this guy I'd never seen before walked in.  I still remember it like it was yesterday.  We spent the entire day together, and before my sister and I left to go home, he asked if he could kiss me.  I totally remember giggling and saying, "Um, okay!"  The whole exchange still makes me smile.

Over the next few years, we kept in touch pretty regularly, and it was obvious (to everyone) that we had a thing for each other, but we were never on the same page.  Life happened, as it often does, and we drifted apart...but always managed to reconnect and vowed to stay in touch.  He was one of the only people (still is) who wouldn't sugarcoat things or dance around the issues, and even though I sometimes hated him for it, I loved him for it too.

He might've been my first real love, but we never really had the opportunity to test that theory.  I lie.  We had tons of opportunities to test that theory, but we were never on the same page at the same time, and if you've ever been in a similar situation, you know how agonizing that can be.  At one point, I had to "quit" him because my home life was suffering.  Dealing with a man who's jealous of another man you've known for a large portion of your life is always crappy.  Ego stroking is rarely pleasant...but I did what I had to do for my family, and I missed him all the time.

Fast forward to October, 2012.  He'd been popping in and out of my brain for months, but I never took it any further...until I did.  We reconnected on (oddly enough) October 9, 2012, the exact same day we met twelve years ago.  Kinda crazy, right?  Although we ebb and flow like most long-lasting friendships/relationships do, I think of him on days like today.  I hope he's happy where he is, because no matter how much time or distance passes, he matters to me.

It's just one of those things that will never go away, and I'd never want it to...  You hold onto people who mean something to you, just like I hold onto the most random memories of those I care about the most.  You just never know when they won't be around anymore to reminisce with you.

Aubs

Cowboy take me...out to the ballgame?

On the way home from Houston today, I was belting out some Dixie Chicks, when B decided he'd sing along too.  It ended up being an eclectic mix of "Cowboy Take Me Away" and "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."  I'm not sure how it worked, but it totally did...probably because a super-cute 6 year-old was behind it.  Also, he doesn't know any of the words to any Dixie Chicks song.  He DOES, however, know the words to LMFAO songs, and I'm not fast enough to skip them on my ipod before he catches the familiar tunes.  I know, I could just delete them, but what would be the fun in that?

This weekend, I did a lot of driving...so I did a lot of talking.  With B in the backseat watching a movie, I had my ipod to keep me company, but it just wasn't cutting it, so I called a friend who might know me better than I know myself, and gained perspective about myself.  Who knew?  What did I learn, you ask?  Well, I'll tell you...

I've noticed, over the past few years in particular, that I've gotten to where I'm a lot harder to crack.  I still meltdown (pretty spectacularly), but it takes a lot longer to get me there.  At first, I thought maybe it was because I'd grown up a little bit, and learned how to not sweat some of the small stuff, but I thought wrong.  My heart broke...a  long time ago, in fact, and I did a pretty good job of piecing it back together, or so I thought.  When I became single again in 2010, I was hurt, but I did a pretty decent job of bouncing back.  I realized it didn't bother me as much as I had expected it would, and I guess I thought my heart was well on its way to being whole again.  I was wrong.

My heart hasn't been whole in a long time, and even when I'm at my best, it's pieced together, so fragile that one little piece is ready to shatter at any given moment.  My heart isn't just in pieces because of love lost/found/given/taken, etc.  It's in pieces because I didn't know how to put it back together.  Now I do.  My darling friend pointed out that, when I notice my heart is hurting, I tend to go back...not forward.  I revert back to the person I loved first/best/the most/etc., and that's not what I need to do.  What's in the past should stay there, even if it could one day be my future, but as there's never any guarantee in life, I need to put one foot in front of the other, and do everything I can to not look back.

I get that.  I don't like it, but I get it.  And I don't know what it was about this weekend, but it clicked.  Everyone has their "person."  You know, "the one" you should've told how you felt, would've dated if given the opportunity, could've forgiven and given a second chance if given the opportunity, or more.  I know I have one...and when things get rough or I feel like I'm all alone, I think of him.  I love him dearly, and it's one piece of my past that I desperately cling to.  I'm not sure why, aside from the fact that it's comfortable.  He's safe.  And while we never managed to be on the same page in our lives, he's always been in the back of my mind.  Does anyone else have someone like that?  I find it hard to believe that it's only me...

So now, my heart is working on healing itself, and I'm working on moving forward, not backward.  I can keep doing what I'm doing, but in doing so, I'm closing myself off to opportunities that could be better than I've imagined.  Even though I have a clear idea in my head of what I want in life, a partner, my family, there could just be something out there that's better than my most brilliant idea...but I have to take a chance, and that part is the hardest part for me.  Where I am now, what I do now, is safe.  I know what will (or won't) come from it.  Is it hard?  Yes.  Does it leave me wanting more?  Every single day...but, you know what?  It's comfortable.  It's safe.  As strong as I appear to be, as stubborn as I come across, as determined as I feel...I'm just as fragile and broken as the next person, and in desperate need of a comfort zone extension.

Aubs

Just a typical Sunday

Who wouldn't enjoy a Sunday watching James Bond movies, eating a delicious breakfast made by my super-awesome father, and watching my B using a sprinkler as a machine gun to shoot down imaginary things in the backyard?

After a leisurely morning, we took off to run errands.  Labor Day weekend, I came down to Houston to visit my dad, and we ended up buying furniture for his house that had just been completed.  This weekend was my first weekend to see it in his house, and I have to say...we made totally excellent choices.  The headboard for the bed in "my" room hadn't been attached yet, so we went to Lowe's (they suck) and then Home Depot to get hardware to finish putting "my" room together.  After an exciting trip to PetSmart, we stopped at Chipotle (B's choice) for lunch, and then we went to Target.  B's ultimate goal was to get a kid-friendly game for my dad's PS3 because I'm opposed to letting him play the games rated "M" that his father allows him to play at his house.  Call me crazy, but I think a 6 year-old doesn't need to be intent on shooting his opponents or attempting to blow them up.  Maybe it's just me.

No trip to Houston, or anywhere that has one for that matter, is complete without a trip to HEB.  Man, I wish they would expand to the Dallas market, and not just as Central Market.  It would make my life happy.  It's really all about the little things.  Today has been the perfect day for having the windows down or open, and we've done just that.  Now, I'm watching my dad and B playing catch in the backyard, and it warms my heart.  Football's on in the background, and although I'm really not that interested in the NFL at this point (unless the Cowboys get rid of Romo and Jerry Jones...a girl can dream), it seems like the perfect fall background noise.  I know it's only temporary, but I'll enjoy every minute while it lasts.

I missed N's baseball game yesterday, and I was kind of bummed about that, but my mom went and so did my grandma, so I got a good report.  He didn't pitch, but his team won 16-6, and he got to catch, which is something he wanted to try for a while.  I can't wait for practice and the game this coming week!

These weekend trips down here are always too short.  I wish I could come down here more often or for longer periods, and I'm so excited that Thanksgiving is right around the corner!  I've gotten pretty used to the split parent holiday schedule now, and I'm looking forward to being able to just be.  I'm always running; it's nice to just slow down.  I probably should've had this bright idea earlier in life.

Aubs

Earmuffs, Hand Dryers, a Set Up, and a Koozie

Today, I finished my weekend class.  Newsflash: I totally know how to communicate.  Apparently, I'm very expressive with my words.  I know.  I was just as surprised as you were...but here's the thing.  I wasn't always like that, or at least I don't think so.  When I was younger, I was a bottler.  I still am.  I bottle up emotion and stress until I can't take anymore, and then I melt down...usually in a pretty epic fashion.  I like to "go big or go home" I guess. 

That's not entirely true, though.  I've always been really good at expressing myself through words, whether they be on paper or via email or some other mode of expression.  Speaking and communicating?  Not so much.  I tend to speak before I think things through, something I can avoid when writing my thoughts.  It's a shame that letter writing is almost a lost art.  Taking the time to write a letter or a note, even if it's short, by hand?  It shows you actually care enough about someone to put in some time and effort.  Anyone can write an email.  It doesn't take a lot of effort, and minimal time.  Writing a letter takes dedication.  I wrote one this week, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

ANYWAY, after my class was over, I picked up my B and we headed south to Houston.  It was approximately 30 degrees cooler in Dallas today than it was in Houston, so as neared our destination, I had to fight the urge to stop and change out of the long sleeve shirt I had opted for this morning.  Sidenote: On my way to class this morning, I was driving along and glanced at the car next to me.  Then, I did a double take.  It was approximately 53 degrees this morning, and it was a perfect fall morning.  Perfect for a nice, cozy latte or something of that sort...NOT perfect for earmuffs.  Seriously, y'all.  She. Was. Wearing. Earmuffs.  I looked for the third time, figuring my eyes must be trying to wake up (as it was just barely 8:00 on Saturday morning) and she caught me looking.  I couldn't help it.  I burst out laughing, and she got ridiculously angry.  She was shaking her fist and making mad faces, which only made me laugh harder.  Oh, Texans...you crack me up.  I'm proud to be one of you.  I'm also proud to say that I refuse to wear a coat.  It just doesn't get cold enough here.  Give me snow, and I'll give you a coat...unbuttoned/unzipped. 

Our trip to Houston was full of hilarity: B couldn't get the hand dryer to work when we stopped for a potty break, so he stuck his face under it, right when it came on full blast.  It makes me laugh, now, just thinking about his cheeks blowing out in an unnatural way.  He decided to take off his hoodie while we were on the road, and got his arms (fully extended) and head stuck, requiring me to pull him out of it.  Once we hit the beltway, I was belting out some Journey (Don't Stop Believin') when I hear this little voice totally rocking out in the backseat.  He had taken one of his earbuds out, paused Rush Hour 2, and was singing all the words right along with me.  It was precious.

Once we arrived and were sufficiently welcomed by my dad and sister (we're attempting to have my dad's new house fully unpacked and decorated before Thanksgiving), B asked if we could go to the playground for a little bit.  We all agreed, so we went and let him blow off some steam.  My dad and I came back first, and B walked back with my sister.  Before we went to the park, the three grown-ups set up a media cabinet in what is deemed "the boys' room", and it came in a huge boss.  My sister and B collaborated to "scare" me when I walked around the corner, and (since I was forewarned) I reacted to B jumping out of the box appropriately.  Fast forward to B walking in the door after walking home from the playground.  My dad gave me our signal, right as he walked past the box...and I jumped up, yelling.  That kid jumped 6 inches in the air, shrieked, and hit the floor.  I almost fell out of the box, I was laughing so hard.  He had to check to make sure he hadn't wet his pants.  The best part was that he had actually picked a flower for me, and then refused to give it to me after I scared the crap out of him.  He eventually relented, but he was so mad.  And it was so worth it.

                                                                           (The box)
Lastly, I got a text from a super-great friend of mine today, saying "What would you think about being set up with someone?"  Sigh.  I promptly called her to find out what she was talking about, because (no lie) I had just thought to myself, "It's kinda been a while since anyone has tried to set me up..."  That was stupid.  It's so easy to think of reasons to decline, and extremely hard to think about why that would even be a good idea.  Do I want to go out with someone to help him open up, because he's very quiet and I'm very...me?  I see one person who would potentially benefit from that, but it's not me.  While I'm not completely against entertaining the idea, it doesn't mean I want to...but I guess I should start dating again.  Maybe.  It's been a ridiculously long time.

But for now, I'm just going to be me, and entertain myself.  I do that pretty well on my own...like this afternoon, I laughed for 20 minutes.  Over a koozie.  Seriously.                                  

Aubs

                                                            How can this not be funny? 

My face hurts

Although I admit this is a rather bizarre choice for a title, it is an absolute truth.  My face hurts...but not an uncomfortable hurt, more like a "my facial muscles have been pulled in 84 different directions" kind of hurt.  Why?  I'll tell you.

I rocked all the way to work this morning...at full volume.  I sang my little heart out.  The windows were down, the volume was up, and each song that came on during my shuffle was one I absolutely loved.  Does that ever happen to you?  It was awesome until I had to get out of the car at work.  I would totally stay in my car, driving around all day listening to my ipod and belting out songs, if I could feasibly make that a real job.  Unfortunately, it's not in the cards for me.

I repeated the process on the way home, and it was equally awesome.  Tons of amazing country music flew out of my speakers today.  I even skipped all the other stuff because I just wanted a country day...except Eminem.  If it's on the Recovery album, I'll listen to it anytime.  He's a talented guy.  His songs make me smile.  That's a really weird statement, I know...

THEN, on my way to class tonight, my ipod hit gold.  I love all different kinds of music, but I hit Deanna Carter's "Strawberry Wine" and gave the family next to me quite the serenade.  They kept pulling up next to me, more than likely just trying to reach their destination, but I kinda think they might've been checking to see if I was still going.  (I was.)

After three hours of talking in class (I participate a lot more than other people.  I know, surprising.), I walked outside to find a pretty sizable temperature drop.  Hooray!  It feels like fall!  The only thing that would make it better is if it would stick around.  A girl can dream.  As the next song began, I started smiling like a complete fool.  It's just one of those things that happens.  "Something Like That" by Tim McGraw came on, more commonly known as the "Barbeque stain on my white t-shirt" song. 

I can tell you exactly where I was, who I was with, and who introduced me to that song in July of 1999, and it still makes me smile today.  I was driving our family Jeep (green), my sister, her best friend, and two of the Brownwood boys (the Goofnuts) were in the backseat.  Another Brownwood boy was in the front seat, in his green GAP t-shirt and cowboy hat, and when "Please Remember Me" came on (the only reason I had bought the cd at this point) he said "This other song is much better" and skipped around until he found it.  Then, he proceeded to sing the whole song, hand on his chest like he meant all the words, while I laughed and was (secretly) impressed.  That whole album "A Place in the Sun" is one of my all-time favorites.  I can listen to any song on that album anytime, and love it, but I always smile when that song comes on and think of my Brownwood pals.

Ahhh, memory lane.  It's such a trip.  Speaking of trips...I'm headed to Houston tomorrow for some quality time: My dad, my Seester, my B, and me!

Aubs

It's all a numbers game

Like most people, I have a lucky number.  Well, I have a few...and they're not necessarily lucky, but they're still my favorite numbers.  Each of them have a reason, some more valid than others.  Some are just plain stupid.

When I was a teenager, I went camping with my extended family every summer.  We went to Garner State Park, arguably one of my favorite places in the world.  It's so peaceful and pretty and so much fun.  As a teenager, we (my cousins, sister, and myself) had certain expectations, and even based our overall feeling of the trip on how many cute boys we met each year.  I'm not kidding.  We even had a numbers system with paper plates.  We would sit, in lawn chairs, at the edge of our campsite and rate the boys as they drove by in their trucks.  Some would continue to drive by in hopes of raising their score.  Once it got dark, we would generally run into said boys at the dance the park staff hosted every night at the pavilion. 

1999 was quite possibly the best year of them all.  We ran into boys we had met the previous year from outside of Houston (it seemed like everyone was from Houston), some boys from Colleyville (My sister actually stayed friends with one of them through college), and who could forget...the Brownwood boys.  That summer was a summer full of fun, new friends, and (of course) "romance".  Garner is one of those places where you can be whomever you want to be because the chances of seeing anyone from Garner again is highly unlikely.  Except this time.  In fact, I was talking to one of the Brownwood boys via Facebook messenger this morning.  Thirteen years later, we're still friends.  Who would've thought...

I say all this because the best campsite EVER at Garner, right near the pavilion, was campsite 42.  My cousins and I used to ritually chant "42" over and over again all the way into the park, and the whole time we were waiting for my grandmother to come back and let us know our campsite assignments.  There were only a couple of years where we didn't have 42 the whole time, and we were known to pack up and move if it became available.  It's just awesome.  42 pops up in my life all the time, and each time it does, a huge smile creeps across my face.  It's practically involuntary.  Something incredible is bound to happen to me when I turn 42, I just know it.

I also love the number 10.  It just seems like a nice, solid number.  I could go further into that and say that I first realized I liked that number when I realized it was the baseball number of someone that I thought was insanely cute when I was younger.  I could say that each time I see 10, I think about "stealing" his baseball shirt with "10" on the sleeve, although I will argue to this day that he gave it to me willingly.  10 is just super.  I have a 10 year-old.  See?  It works.

3:  This one is even more ridiculous.  When I was in high school, my best friend and I both had a thing for a soccer player.  His number was 3.  I don't know why we were so ridiculous, but we both agreed to make 3 our favorite number for forever.  We were 15, y'all.  Don't judge me.  Either way, 3 is a favorite number...yes, I know it's pathetic.  BUT there are 3 of us in my little family, and I think it works for us.

Just thinking about my favorite numbers makes me want to go camping.  Driving home with the windows down and a cool breeze really makes me want to be outdoors, near the Frio River, just soaking in the sounds...just not the birds.  Man, I hate birds.  A lot.  And they know it.

Aubs

Stress

This week has been crazy busy, and it's only Wednesday.  Seriously, y'all, I have no concept of time this week, and with so many deadlines for school, I'm running around like a...see?  I can't even come up with a good analogy. 

I have a 4 weekend class that ends on Saturday, and I picked up another online class this week.  Add that to the three classes I'm already doing online, (one of which I just opened the textbook last week) and you might be able to understand my stress.  On top of that, throw in baseball practice once a week, batting practice once a week, games once a week, and juggling whose week it is to have which kid, and it's a wonder I still find matching socks in the morning when I get ready for work.  Come to think of it...that might save me some time.

I know I'm not alone when I say that it feels like there just aren't enough hours in the day, but I'm not really sure how to manage my time.  I've never really had to worry about it before.  Sure, I've always been stressed trying to juggle schedules, but it's really caught up to me this time.  Things normally just fall into place, and it's not happening that way this time.  I've never really been the kind of girl who's had to study to get the grades I want.  I'm fairly logical and have good reasoning skills.

On that note, I'll shut up.  Please don't throw anything at me.  Okay, thanks.

N's dad and baby brother (NOT mine) met us at Market Street tonight so they could see each other since it's been a few days.  (N did NOT really enjoy his field trip that much.  Apparently, there were a ton of daddy long legs and he threw up a crispito in his bunk.  Note from N: If you have to go to Sky Ranch, steer clear of the crispito.  Consider yourself warned)  Baby E and I are best friends...he just doesn't know it yet.  He's almost 3 months old (we were 2 days away from being birthday buddies, which would've thrilled his mother to no end, I'm sure) and we are destined to be pals.  His dad said, "Hey, E.  Look at whoever you love the most!" and guess who won...  Hint: It was someone who's not related to him in any way, shape, or form.  Haha!

I tend to win people over...sometimes.  When I want to.  Even when I don't.  And then I inevitably win over those I'm trying to avoid like the plague.  Why?  Because that's just the way things work when you're me.  On that note, I can't wait for this week to be over.  I can't wait to be in Houston this weekend, hanging out with my dad and sister and niece-dog.  I can't wait to be off on Monday.  This week is taking forever, probably because I have something I'm really looking forward to.  Isn't that the way it always goes?!  Also, it's almost Thanksgiving, and that thrills me to no end.  I just thought I'd share.  Random: it's the way to be.

Aubs

P.S. For those of you who were wondering, I didn't hear a mosquito in my car this morning, but I did end up with another bite, this time right below my eye on my right cheekbone.  I'm not happy.