My gums are THROBBING right now thanks to a particularly intense cleaning this morning. This was part 2 of my regular cleaning... the first one was back in June and it was my first visit in something like a year and a half. So I got heavily scolded by the hygienist for waiting so long and then she told me how much tartar was on my teeth and how it would be an intense cleaning and then part way through she told me she didn't even HAVE TIME TO FINISH THE WHOLE THING (what is my life) and needed me to come back for part 2. YAY. So I had to schedule a second appointment for July and then I wound up being sick that week (with some kind of chest cold/cough-y thing) so I rescheduled and they couldn't fit me in until today. Ridic. So she finished up my bottom teeth and did my top teeth and she is SO ROUGH and scrapes the shit out of my gums. I'm surprised I didn't just die from blood loss right in the chair. She always starts off being kind of nice and chatty and then THE ENTIRE CLEANING she is not only putting me through physical hell but she scolds me in these little, passive aggressive ways the whole time. Things like scraping super hard and really sweetly saying "sorryyy, it's just there's so much to scrape!". EYE ROLL. Long story short: I think I'm switching dentists. :|

I am leaving in like 15 minutes to meet Teague for lunch at Po Boys and then WE'RE GOING TO GET MY TATTOOOOO. I've been wanting a tattoo for Vermont forever now and I finally found a great sketch of a blue gill which I thought would be perfect since that's what I always used to catch when I'd go fishing with Grampa. So this is partially a Vermont tattoo and partially a Grampa tattoo. I initially thought I'd get it on the back of my right arm -- to balance out the seahorse on my left -- but now I am thinking it will go on my left forearm since I just want it somewhere more prominent. I AM EXCITED but nervous because it's been over a year since my last tattoo so I feel like I'm not as familiar with the pain anymore. OOF.

I had a bizarre dream last night. I don't know where I was exactly, or with who... I feel like it was an odd mix of real people and celebrities and hybrids (I DO remember a very naked Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert lounging in a bed and co-hosting a live show together, and thinking "damn, Jon Stewart really works out"). I also remember Pablo Schreiber (aka Porn Stache from OITNB and that hot guy from Weeds) spouting off some conservative nonsense that I was really mad to hear because he was forever ruined in my mind.

Anyway. The disturbing part of the dream started when I looked in the mirror at some point and saw some kind of weird stuff around my hairline -- it looked like sawdust or something, but I knew it was some kind of insect eggs, something I should be ashamed to have visible to other people, so I was trying to strategically change my hairstyle so I could hide it. Then I was looking at myself in the mirror because I had clearly gained a LOT of weight, but I knew it wasn't normal weight -- more like I was swollen for some reason. Slowly I started to notice all kinds of bumps and sores and rashes on me -- big red patches on my legs and raised, scabbed over patches on my arms and bumps on my thighs and hips large enough that they were visible through a layer of clothing. I was starting to freak out because it was obvious I was VERY allergic to something and I could feel my throat starting to close a bit and even in the dream I was thinking "but I'm never allergic to ANYTHING, what could it even be!?". I was telling Nate that something was wrong but he didn't believe me, or he didn't think it was a big deal. I feel like I sort of woke myself up and had this huge sigh of relief that it wasn't real life (though part of me was tempted for a moment to put my phone's flashlight on so I could check and make sure).

I mean, no dream interpretation needed there -- one of my biggest, deepest fears is my body failing me in some way. Getting sick, having it reject something or have a terrible reaction to something, hair falling out, skin breaking out, etc. Shudder.

Some key things on my mind right now...

1) Went to brunch (and adventuring around Portland) with Alec & Emily today. I really didn't expect to like Emily as much as I did. I really didn't expect to want Emily to like me as much as I did. I really didn't expect to feel such nostalgia for Alec. It was a fun day, really. We had brunch at Local 188 and we went to an antique store and walked around Portland and explored the Press Hotel and walked around near East End Beach and visited Matt and Sharon. Then we came back to my house (after I declined several invitations to a trip to see Star Wars) and Mukow barked at them (mostly at Alec). It was great! I'm hoping this means an eventual invite to the wedding, but... who knows.

2) Gramma & Grampa also left this morning. I felt bad because I kind of had to rush out after saying goodbye to them since Alec & Emily were picking me up... but they really had to get packing anyway. They seemed so, so happy they came (and I am so, so happy they came) and I really couldn't express to them how awesome it was to share Christmas with them but... it was really amazing.

That's mostly it, honestly. There's lots of other little things but those are the big ones.

Some things that have been on my mind lately...

My brother, or the lack thereof. Him, Esther and her family were up in Rangeley, camping, and Esther was driving the van and they hit a moose. A small moose, but still. The moose's head smashed the windshield and the poor thing's neck snapped and it died. Esther was a wreck, apparently. Luckily no one was hurt (aside from the moose) but the van was badly damaged and so Mom went up there with Nate and picked them (and Esther's brother, Matty) up. I wanted to go, too, but I had a wedding in Lincoln, Mass, and wouldn't have made it back in time. Gray and Esther stayed overnight at my Mom's and Nate and I went over there Sunday morning and we all made breakfast together and ate out in the backyard. It was quite nice. But, as usual, they had to get home... and it makes it so damn hard for me to enjoy the time we DO have together sometimes. I know I should just focus on the present, but all I can think about is the fact that they're always on the go, always on their way out.

Gray has been wanting to hear Nate's music SO BAD and Nate finally made a deal with him. Gray can hear all the music he wants... but he has to come to our apartment to do it. It's a good deal, and only because Nate has his music finely tuned and calibrated to sound perfect on HIS speakers, in HIS room, with HIS equipment. It's not yet at the stage where it can be brought anywhere, with any crappy sound system, and sound good. So I had hoped that Nate would be able to convince Gray to come to our apartment for a while on Sunday so he could finally hear some music. Instead, Gray just tried (yet again) to get Nate to burn him a CD, Nate refused, and that was that. Gray and Esther got in their car and left around noon.

Last time Gray talked about it, him and Esther's cross-country roadtrip was going to be 2 months... September 1st through November 1st, roughly. On Sunday they casually mentioned that they wouldn't be back until January. When I, surprised, asked "why January?" they just nonchalantly said they'd be roadtripping for 4 months. Oh. Okay.

Perhaps I'm in the wrong mindset. Perhaps my brain has shed all of its youthful desires and I can't understand why the two of them would rather brush off everyone they're closest to and spend all of their time together, alone, rather than spend time with us. I don't get it. I've been in new relationships before. I know that feeling. I know there's usually that first few months where all you want to do is be with that person. I know that even years into the relationship that might occasionally be the only person you want to spend time with. You're comfortable together and you know each other inside and out. I get it. But it's been YEARS of this and it doesn't seem to show any sign of slowing down.

I have no problem with the two of them being together, and I even like Esther (alot) but sometimes I want my brother back.

I've offered for him to work with me when he gets home. Either to help me with weddings or to help me with some behind-the-scenes stuff. Told him it'd be a whole lot of hanging out at our apartment, going for coffee runs, learning how to edit photos, organizing, stuff like that. Easy, tedious at times, but we'd get to hang out. He'd have some real responsibility. He's always sort of brushed off my offers. For a while he said that when he moves home, he's going to be pursuing his "dream" of opening up a skate shop, so it made sense. He'd be too busy. But lately he's been saying how much he hates Starbucks, how he doesn't want to transfer to another Starbucks when he moves home. But he's just been talking about working at a DIFFERENT coffee shop. Coffee by Design, Bard, Mornings in Paris. I texted him a couple weeks ago asking, again, if he had put any thought into working for me. No response. Apparently making lattes for self-entitled douchebags is better than working with your sister. Awesome!

I just don't get it. For someone who acts so pompous, so entitled, so know-it-all... he really doesn't know anything. But I guess that's part of it. He acts like he's this big adult, living on his own for less than a year, working at a coffee shop... and yet can't manage to handle a simple calendar (or maybe he just doesn't want to).

I don't know. I guess I thought being with someone and loving them meant becoming part of their family. WANTING to, anyways. Spending time together as a group. Being mature enough to realize that these people are supporting you and encouraging you and it'd be really stupid to slowly push them away. Right? Who knows, maybe things will be different when they move home. Maybe a big part of this is just the physical distance. We can't all spend as much time together as we'd like because they're not here. They're not that far, but work schedules are a bitch to coordinate as it is and when you add a 2 hour drive into the mix, it becomes damn near impossible. So maybe that's it.

I'm also a bit hurt that they won't be here for Christmas. We don't have many traditions, but Christmas is a big one, and I thought it was an important one. I guess maybe it's unreasonable for me to expect them to curb their wild, childlike spontaneity to explore the country just so they can sit around a tree and unwrap boxes with us... but, damn.

Oh, have I mentioned that I have been going to these kickass yoga classes for the past couple months? HECK YEAH. Heated Vinyasa yoga. Totally badass. Intense, no doubt, but BAD. ASS. You feel like you're in a freaking womb, people. A WOMB. And I have never sweat so much IN MY LIFE. But you walk away feeling so ridiculously relaxed, light as a feather, downright ecstatic. You feel like you're stoned, in the best way possible. AMAZING. If you're having doubts, the mere number of capitalized letters in this short paragraph alone should convince you that it is MIND-BLOWING.

Do it.

I wish cats could talk. That is all.

Is it totally selfish for me to want my friends to all live near me? Damn it. It seems like everyone is either already far away or is about to move far away. And to me, anything over 30 minutes is far. Gray and Esther live in Brighton, which certainly isn't THAT far... but I hate having to drive 1.5 hours every time I want to see them. Alec is in Chicago. Liz is in Costa Rica right now, and San Francisco after that. Eric is in Las Vegas. JJ and Simon will be in Philadelphia sooner than later. Graham and Olivia are plotting their move to New York. Matt is one of my only friends to remain here... but I wouldn't be surprised if he took off to the West Coast with Liz. Luckily Rebecca and Tyler are under contract to buy a house here (well, in Buxton) otherwise I'd be completely alone.

It's actually pretty depressing when I really sit and think about it.

It's not that I have no desire to travel -- I do. I think Nate does, too. We're definitely in a better place to potentially move out of Maine now that Nate is no longer working at the store. And my job is such that I could do it anywhere. The familiarity is attractive, of course, and we do truly LOVE Maine. Plus my Mom is here, as are his parents and his sister. It's a tough thing to think about. I have been drawn to California FOREVER. Not sure what it is, exactly. But the idea of San Francisco is heavenly to me. I've never even been any further west than Chicago, but California is just CALLING to me. Sigh.

I feel like every post I've made in the past few days has been sad and depressed. I don't think that's really my general mood during the past week but it's possible. I just feel like I want a change in scenery. I am getting tired of this apartment, in some ways I am tired of this town, tired of this state. I know this is where I want to end up, someday, but I've never been convinced that this is where I want to be ALWAYS. Nate seems a bit more content to just stay here... I can't imagine him willingly moving away from his family. It makes me sad, too, but I'm not planning on packing up and moving somewhere else FOREVER. I just want to explore a bit. Is that so bad?

I will never understand the using of Facebook to commiserate with other like-minded women to trash your boyfriend/partner/husband. It's not always TRASHING, really, but it's just this sort of acknowledgement that we "all" deal with the same shit from the men in our lives and gee, isn't it so hard? Like the women are all rolling their eyes at each other, knowingly. It makes me fucking sick to my stomach, especially when I realize that I might be subconsciously lumped in with these women just because I have a vagina.

Firstly, my husband does most of the cleaning around here. And the cooking. He's just better at both of those things than I am, and has more desire to do them. If anything, he's the one trying to roll his eyes knowingly at other dudes... like, yeah guys, you know? Your wife is out there bringing home all the money and you're at home cleaning... right? ... Right? Our apartment has been re-arranged and re-organized countless times -- all because of him. He's the one with the knack for interior design, not me. He knows which colors go together, why the couch would work better against that wall, how to perfectly place all the items of furniture in my Mom's livingroom in order to make it the most aesthetically pleasing. That's all his gig. I am perfectly content most of the time to go on living in my messy apartment, with my messy desk, opening my messy drawers to try to find a pen or a pad of Post-its. He's the one who keeps me in check, who helps me come up with schedules and timelines, who cleans the entire apartment top to bottom on occasion just because he's bored.

So, most of it comes from the fact that I just can't relate to these women. I don't have a messy, disorganized husband who sits in front of the TV with a bag of chips and an Xbox controller in his hand. I don't give my husband an impossibly unreasonable list of chores and projects to complete over the weekend. But mostly, I don't believe in publicly shaming my husband because he's any of these things. I'm aware that if that were true, it'd be an issue for us to deal with together, alone, not on Facebook so all of my girlfriends can chime in and bash their husbands, too. Come on, now. Just because there are stereotypes that exist for women doesn't mean we have to eagerly live up to them.