Set me free

You know how you have those moments when you realize that everything is exactly as it should be? That even though we have all these different options, different paths to follow, somehow we ended up exactly where we were supposed to be. I love those times. They're few and far in-between, which might actually just add to how special they are. In those moments, time really does slow down, and as cliched as it sounds, you drink it all in. And you remember everything. What you were wearing. Exactly where you were. Who you were with. What they were wearing. What you were feeling. Everything.

A year ago, to the day, I had one of those moments.

I knew exactly what he was going to say before he even said them. Even though I had no clue how I was going to respond. Sitting there, on the bleachers at the UCLA track, watching the lone runner at 4am, we just clicked. We sat there for hours. Silences have never been so exhilarating.

I'm a little glad I never blogged about our beginnings. I never really knew how to describe how deliriously happy I was that summer without it sounding like a top-40 love song. How far do I have to go to get to you? Name me the miles, send me the miles, and I'll be happy to.

He was by no means the love of my life. But I did care about him. And he will always be the first guy who got through my cold cold heart. He was the first guy to make me feel truly beautiful.

I am a hopeless romantic because of him. Even though we crashed and burned at the end, I'm glad we had what we had. Because he made me realize that I deserve wonderful things. And I will be able to find someone who will give me the world, the moon, and all the shoes I've ever wanted.

I've had plenty of 'life is beautiful' moments since then. More than I should be entitled to, I think. But it's reassuring. As many low points this year has had, I've had so many uplifting ones as well. Even today, though it's officially the anniversary of a relationship that had no possibility of ever working out, I'm realizing that I am exactly where I want to be. Exactly where I should be. With all the right people. Wearing all the right clothes. Doing exactly what I should be doing.

It really is beautiful.

When bells are ringing

Congratulations Annie and Tim.

When bells are ringing/ima a ting a tinging/ they're ringing and bringing you closer and closer to me/ hear the organ a-playin'/ yeah, I hear the voices singing/ yeah yeah yeah, they're saying I'm wearin' a smile, 'cause I'm marryin' you/ now in a moment or so, all of the people gathered will know/ that for the rest of our lives, we'll be man and wife/ not a soul is a-missing/ yeah, they're all around me kissin'/ oh oh oh, they're kissing and wishing us joy on our honeymoon...
[click on this link to go to the artist's myspace page...the song title is Wedding Bells]

Chasing the sun

I'd hate to admit it, but we all know it's true: I'm a dork through and through. Which is why these kinds of things make me smile and go awwwww.

(Because secretly I wish someone would spin counterclockwise for me.)

This post brought to you by Oregon

I love coming home to California. But invariably it means I'm going to run into old faces. At the grocery store, at coffee shops, even randomly at the post office. And while most of the time it's nice catching up, finding out who's now married with children(!!), who's moved away, and so on, there are the occasional run-ins that are super awkward.

I went to brunch with one of my high school friends the other day. We had just ordered, and I was helping myself to a yummy-looking muffin when he walked in. My high school boyfriend. The one who started dating my best friend before he broke up with me. Yeah. We didn't really keep in touch, but can you blame me?

I was seated facing the door, so we made eye contact when he came in. He dropped his eyes right away, too afraid to even look at his friends who were with him. Now, given my recent success with one ex, I was positive I could make this work out too. High school was forever and a decade ago. It's all water under the bridge now. So when his friends saw me (remember, he was still staring intently at the floor), I smiled and waved.

They walked over to say their hellos. We all had gone to the same high school, so everyone knew everyone else. There was no need for introductions, we could just skip pleasantly to the overly-friendly, over-eager, how are you's.

But as my ex's friend opened his mouth to start the aforementioned expected exchange, my ex butted in and exclaimed, What are you doing here?!

Not used to this kind of confrontational greeting, I sputtered and said I was back in California for my sister's wedding. Our friends looked on, aghast, and more than slightly afraid of what was going to happen in the next couple of minutes.

My friend, jumping to the defensive, threw the question back in his face. And why are you here?

Lunch, came the unequivocal answer from the friends.

We made small talk, finding out where we all were located now, realizing we were all home for the holiday, and then leaving a huge silence where real friends would have invited each other to picnics and high school reunions.

Then my ex spoke up. Again. So you're still in Oregon?

I blinked. Oregon?

Yeah, aren't you in some strange med program or vet or pharmacy thing up there?

I blinked again. Um, I'm at Northwestern med. Which is in Chicago, Illinois...

I was so flabbergasted at the question I drew out the syllables, bringing out my nonexistent ChiCAHgo accent and turning Illinois into noise. He knew I was at Northwestern. He had applied for the same program in high school, and was extremely bitter when he wasn't interviewed. Our friends all knew this, as he had gone on a rampage back in the day about how he had such better credentials than me and he deserved my spot.

Our friends were silent. And the awkwardness piled up around us.

And just when you think it couldn't possibly get any worse, the hostess appeared and cheerily asked if we all wanted to sit together.

NO no no, said my ex's friend, a little too forcefully. We're having lunch.

The hostess took a moment to process that. And then started to say what we all were thinking (which is that you can eat lunch and breakfast at the same table), but I shook my head at her and said that we were fine and would be leaving soon.

Oh okay, she said, picking up on how low the temperature had dropped. Well, I'll get your table ready then, as she walked over to the farthest part of the room, to a table that would have no eye contact with mine whatsoever.

We all stood there, not quite sure what to say to each other.

My friend came to the rescue, simply stating, but pointedly, Um, my eggs are getting cold.

Relieved, we all said our goodbyes and nice-running-into-you's even if we all knew they were total lies.

And here I thought I was making progress on the whole Awkward front.

You learn

Run-ins with ex-boyfriends are always inherently awkward. I never know what to say, and I tend to just completely clam up. I start fidgeting with jackets and become completely fascinated by knickknacks that surround me.

And I never deliberately seek them out. I might be the Queen of Awkward, but I definitely don't go looking for awkward situations to put myself in.

Except sometimes when I'm tired and delirious, I don't really know what I'm doing.

For instance, two weeks ago, an ex-boyfriend sent out an email to my class, offering some really great deals on books I would need this upcoming year. I emailed back, cordially, politely, telling him that I would love to take them off his hands if someone else hadn't already offered. It wasn't until after I pushed "send" that I realized I'd actually have to see him to get the books from him.

The old Michelle would have just bought overpriced books from the bookstore and avoided the whole awkward mess.

He wrote back, letting me know that although two of the books had already been spoken for, he'd give me the rest of the lot at a new special deal! After a couple more emails, we set up a meeting time - which turned out to be at 1am the night before I left for LA - the only time that worked for both us.

A little apprehensive, I walked over to his apartment with nothing but a check and my keys. Ten minutes of awkwardness couldn't be that bad, right?

I knocked on his door, and he quickly opened it. My roommate is sleeping, he whispered apologetically, to explain why he wasn't inviting me in. That's fine, I nodded, totally okay with getting this over with as quickly as possible. So imagine my surprise as he reached down to grab the pile of books, and then walked out the door into the hallway with me.

He sat down. So how are you? It's been a long time since we've talked.

Befuddled, I followed his lead and sat down as well in the corridor. We made small talk for a while - him telling me what he was up to, what to expect during my second year of medical school, and then the shocker - that he was taking a year off to do missionary work - and would be joining my class next year. So I'll see you in rounds, he said excitedly.

I nodded. He started asking me about my classmates, and as I gushed about them, I started gushing about his classmates as well, one of his closest friends in particular. She is amazing. Super involved, super efficient, superhuman. If I could accomplish just 10% of what she does, I'd be set for life, I remarked.

At first he laughed. And then he realized I wasn't joking at all. This girl was totally my role model.

Then he looked at me, very seriously, and said, Michelle - you don't want to be her. You don't need to be 10% of her. Heck, you don't need to be 1% of her. You already are amazing. You are already absolutely incredible.

I was floored. It's nice whenever someone pays you a compliment, but somehow, it means so much more coming from an ex. Because he knows there's no future for the two of you. There's really no need for pleasantries. Just bitter and honest truth. And to have him tell me that, was pretty amazing. Because after all we've gone through, for him to tell me I'm incredible, meant that I must be pretty freaking unbelievable.

We kept talking for a while and soon we were randomly talking about how immature kids are these days. Indirectly, I apologized for the way I treated him, as a lowly little freshman in undergrad. And though I didn't say it outright - it would have been too direct and awkward - he knew what I was referring to. Instead of lording it over me and rubbing it in - how horrible I was, how mean and insensitive I was - he merely nodded and placed some of the blame on himself, saying that his immaturity probably fostered my own. That couldn't be farther from the truth, but it was a nice gesture.

Well, at least we're all grown up now, I laughed, as I stood up to leave.

Oh, we're not at all. We're still young. Still making mistakes.

At least tell me I'm not so immature anymore.

Eh. I guess....

I punched him in the arm. Hey!

We both laughed. We hugged and said our goodbyes, wished each other luck, and I can honestly tell you that I hope we will be rounding together during our third year. Because he's a good friend. And I'm glad that we've gotten over our issues - and oh, there were lots - because when all is said and done, we respect each other. And that's so much better than our previous caustic relationship where we couldn't even look at each other in lecture halls, couldn't talk about each other to friends without dragging them into the whole mess.

One down, five ex-boyfriends to go.