Long distance relationships will make you do all sorts of silly things. Search for the best deals on bus tickets for hours on end, get your legs waxed despite having never done that in the nearly 7 years you've been with someone, buy fancy new underwear, etc. All those things are, legitimately, pretty silly. But there are other things that seem silly but can prove to be incredibly important.
One of those things that TJ and I have discovered is watching TV shows over the phone with each other. Namely, Archer. Archer is an animated series on FX, and it's fantastic. It's created by some of the minds behind another mutual favorite of ours, Frisky Dingo, a 2-season series that ran on Adult Swim about a millionaire asshole playboy and an extra-terrestrial villain named Killface who runs his diabolical plan like a corporation - POs included. You can see why we were such fans. Archer is about a millionaire playboy spy and his spy agency, which happens to be owned and operated by his highly dysfunctional mother (voiced and inspired by Jessica Walter, aka Lucille Bluth).
Anyways, we watch Archer together. On the phone. We literally sit on the phone, myself watching my DVR, TJ watching on iTunes and giggle at a show. Nothing further. Pretty silly, eh? Yes and no. Certainly, it's rather silly to watch a show over the phone. What isn't silly is how much closer it makes me feel to him. We get to watch one of our favorite things and laugh together and discuss the finer points of the episode. And for that half hour, it's like he's sitting next to me instead of a few hundred miles away.
I can't speak for him, but I think he feels the same. He gets a little antsy if we haven't watched that week's episode by Sunday. We're trying to find other ways to share experiences while away. Online gaming has been attempted once, and will be further advanced when Portal 2 comes out. I think I'd like to attempt Skype cooking too. We'll see.
I have confidence we'll find lots more silly things soon.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
New Home
haHA! I've found a new place to live! Mainstreet, Evanston Illinois! I've struck a fantastic balance between being near work, near the city itself, in a neighborhood thats both beautiful and entertaining, near public transit, near(ish) the freeway, super close to the lake, near a coffee shop that has good coffee and culture, near bars and restaurants, near a music venue, near a boat launch, near an awesome university. With tree-lined streets that don't have their trees pruned to accommodate power lines above them. I am super excited.
Not to mention my apartment-to-be. Its in one of those courtyard brick buildings that seem to be iconic of Chicago, the unit is on the top floor in the courtyard/street-facing corner, has hardwood floors, granite counter tops, a full size stove, big windows, parking, laundry, heat and water included, possibly a garage space for my motorcycle, a secure place for my bicycle, two blocks from two different grocery stores. Did I mention its like 6 blocks from the beach and a boat launch? Theres also a bike shop.
Right now I'm at a coffee shop on Main street called the Brothers K Coffee House. Its pretty awesome. Its a the corner of a building, at an intersection, with windows on all sides, and a 20 foot ceiling. There's a guy setting up for an open mic; it will be interesting to see how their open mic scene compares to Cincy's. Or rather, how It compares to Baba Budan's; I can't say I really went to many others.
After I filled out my rental application I stopped into this bar/music venue near the leasing office. It was a pretty hip looking place, and it had a really interesting and reasonably priced menue. On tap they had an awesome belgian, which was awesome. I started chatting with the bartender, he was nice and friendly as I talked a bit about moving up here, but his eyes lit up when I told him I was bringing a boat. Turns out he's a hobiecat enthusiast, he teaches a kids watersports camp in the summers, and he runs the rescue operations out of the boat launch thats a few blocks from the bar we were sitting in. He was psyched that I was bringing up an 18 foot boat; said the 16's could just barely keep up. So that's awesome. I gotta try to get a spot on his beach; there's limited space and a lottery system to assign them.
Not to mention my apartment-to-be. Its in one of those courtyard brick buildings that seem to be iconic of Chicago, the unit is on the top floor in the courtyard/street-facing corner, has hardwood floors, granite counter tops, a full size stove, big windows, parking, laundry, heat and water included, possibly a garage space for my motorcycle, a secure place for my bicycle, two blocks from two different grocery stores. Did I mention its like 6 blocks from the beach and a boat launch? Theres also a bike shop.
Right now I'm at a coffee shop on Main street called the Brothers K Coffee House. Its pretty awesome. Its a the corner of a building, at an intersection, with windows on all sides, and a 20 foot ceiling. There's a guy setting up for an open mic; it will be interesting to see how their open mic scene compares to Cincy's. Or rather, how It compares to Baba Budan's; I can't say I really went to many others.
After I filled out my rental application I stopped into this bar/music venue near the leasing office. It was a pretty hip looking place, and it had a really interesting and reasonably priced menue. On tap they had an awesome belgian, which was awesome. I started chatting with the bartender, he was nice and friendly as I talked a bit about moving up here, but his eyes lit up when I told him I was bringing a boat. Turns out he's a hobiecat enthusiast, he teaches a kids watersports camp in the summers, and he runs the rescue operations out of the boat launch thats a few blocks from the bar we were sitting in. He was psyched that I was bringing up an 18 foot boat; said the 16's could just barely keep up. So that's awesome. I gotta try to get a spot on his beach; there's limited space and a lottery system to assign them.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Rule #1: Always have a plan
My life involves a lot of planning. I work as a project manager at a branding firm; you can imagine the amount of planning that might involve. I help run a DIY gallery/music space and handle the (very lean) funds; also lots of planning. These are both things I've made choices to be a part, and they were conscious choices. I'll let you in on a secret: I like plans.
Plans are my favorite. Calendars, to-do lists, itineraries, these things make me happy. They get me through the day and help me feel sane. If I've got things to cross of my list, I feel good. I have an odd mixture of satisfaction and restlessness when I cross everything off of a list because it means I might be bored soon. I hate boredom.
So, you can imagine my displeasure when my plans for what my life would look like over the next year, two years, five years, went entirely up in flames. I'm referring, of course, to TJ's move to Chicago.
To give a bit of history, TJ finished his master's program this December. So, he started looking for a job. Meanwhile, I had been pretty unhappy at my job for some time and it made sense for me to start looking too. We were both looking all over the place, including our hometown, Cincinnati. TJ had some interviews here, and then I got an interview at the firm I currently work for (where I actually used to intern). The same week I was supposed to interview, TJ got the interview with Discover in Chicago. They scheduled it for a Friday, so we decided to make a weekend of it.
My interview went well, his went well, we had a great time in the city. We talked it over and agreed his was the better opportunity. Even better, they told him they'd get back to him the following week! We were beyond excited. See, my plan had very little to do with where I'd be. My plan was simply that TJ and I would be together, that we would start building a life together and making grown up decisions. I had no qualms about all that happening in Chicago. So we hoped he would get the offer before I got a second interview or an offer.
Unfortunately, that isn't what happened.
Without reviewing further details, essentially Discover took way longer than promised to get back to him and in the meantime we both decided it made sense for me to take my current job. Within days of that decision, Discover made their offer. And here we are.
So, back to planning. That whole scenario sucked pretty hard for me. But I've found that I'm doing pretty well with this separation in large part to - you guessed it! - PLANNING! TJ and I spent a lot of time before his move talking about when we could realistically see each other and how we could make the most of this time.
The plan is to see each other every other weekend: I'll go up once a month, he'll come down once a month. And we're also working on this idea of finding really fun things to do each weekend, to build strong memories even during this strange time of separation. That plan is sustaining me. As much as it's unpleasant to know you can't see your loved one whenever you want to, knowing you have the net time you'll see them right there on your calendar makes it quite a bit more bearable.
Plans are my favorite. Calendars, to-do lists, itineraries, these things make me happy. They get me through the day and help me feel sane. If I've got things to cross of my list, I feel good. I have an odd mixture of satisfaction and restlessness when I cross everything off of a list because it means I might be bored soon. I hate boredom.
So, you can imagine my displeasure when my plans for what my life would look like over the next year, two years, five years, went entirely up in flames. I'm referring, of course, to TJ's move to Chicago.
To give a bit of history, TJ finished his master's program this December. So, he started looking for a job. Meanwhile, I had been pretty unhappy at my job for some time and it made sense for me to start looking too. We were both looking all over the place, including our hometown, Cincinnati. TJ had some interviews here, and then I got an interview at the firm I currently work for (where I actually used to intern). The same week I was supposed to interview, TJ got the interview with Discover in Chicago. They scheduled it for a Friday, so we decided to make a weekend of it.
My interview went well, his went well, we had a great time in the city. We talked it over and agreed his was the better opportunity. Even better, they told him they'd get back to him the following week! We were beyond excited. See, my plan had very little to do with where I'd be. My plan was simply that TJ and I would be together, that we would start building a life together and making grown up decisions. I had no qualms about all that happening in Chicago. So we hoped he would get the offer before I got a second interview or an offer.
Unfortunately, that isn't what happened.
Without reviewing further details, essentially Discover took way longer than promised to get back to him and in the meantime we both decided it made sense for me to take my current job. Within days of that decision, Discover made their offer. And here we are.
So, back to planning. That whole scenario sucked pretty hard for me. But I've found that I'm doing pretty well with this separation in large part to - you guessed it! - PLANNING! TJ and I spent a lot of time before his move talking about when we could realistically see each other and how we could make the most of this time.
The plan is to see each other every other weekend: I'll go up once a month, he'll come down once a month. And we're also working on this idea of finding really fun things to do each weekend, to build strong memories even during this strange time of separation. That plan is sustaining me. As much as it's unpleasant to know you can't see your loved one whenever you want to, knowing you have the net time you'll see them right there on your calendar makes it quite a bit more bearable.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
and then he said...
I spent my first few days of the great exile in a similar milieu of random - not to say purposeless - activity. I've checked into my extended stay, acquired groceries, searched for apartments, been through orientation and the meeting of co-workers at work... thus far it's seemed very surreal. Like I'm skating over the surface of all of this; a feeling no doubt lubricated by the forthcoming fatty signing bonus and the reassurance that I've got love waiting for me back in Cincy. If I had a therapist they might have something to say about that whole phenomenon and attitude as a coping mechanism.
Saturday evening, with regret, I turned off my audiobook and handed over my credit card at the front desk of my extended-stay. He commented on the irony of how I'm working for Discover, but paying with an American Express. "Havn't drank the cool-aid yet," I quipped. Frightening how easily corporate witticisms return to me. I got some chinese food and discovered that "Krogers" are called "Jewel Oscos" here, and that they're rather nicer.
Later, Rachael and I watched Archer together. That is to say, we tried to sync it up on our diverse playback-devices and laughed with eachother over the phone as we watched on our separate screens. Remarkable how much of a feeling of closeness that shared experience engenders, despite that all we're doing is cackling with a slight delay.
Sunday I wandered around and looked for apartments all over the north shore. My resolve to avoid having a commute is getting increasingly degraded as I look at the real-estate options further south. The towns nearby are fine, but the stuff in Evanston and south of that are phenomenal. I found a place that occupies a whole floor of a building and has balconies that overlook a park, behind which lies Lake Michigan. Its more expensive that I should pay for, but I could, if I wanted to... I think the length of the commute will probably dissuade me from making that slightly unwise decision.
Another slightly unwise decision was avoided for similar reasons: a couple guys seeking roommates found me on one of the apartment search websites I'm registered on. Their offer was tempting; a duplex in a posh outskirt of the city, furnished, with gadgets, granite and wood everywhere. A bonified "really nice place." Some part of me was hoping that I could convince myself that it was worth the commute, but I did a test-drive of it yesterday (in relatively agreeable traffic conditions), found myself pounding on the steering wheel in frustration, and decided it wasn't a good idea. And they had such a nice stove...
Work's been pleasant and easy thus far, time is flying by and no one has really asked anything of me. I had been slightly worried that my boss was gonna sit me down, pull up a chair behind me, fire up SAS, and command me to solve some nightmarish problem on an unknown dataset using SQL and SAS. On the contrary, he's been rather laid-back, giving me a general idea of what he wants me to accomplish and some reports of previous work on the subject. I'm finding myself intrigued by the problems and eager to start testing my skills against them. Sadly, of course, I have to wait a couple of days for the IT issues (like installing the required software on my computer) get resolved. I have some ideas about how to take that into my own hands, though I'm not sure I should push it so immediately.
So like I said: I've been sufficiently occupied that the lonesomeness and alienation of being hundreds of miles away from my loved one and everything else I'm familiar with hasn't had an emotional impact on me yet. I'm sure that once I've settled into a routine and have the presence of mind to take stock of things, I'll be hit by it.
On the other hand, we've got the storm of the century outside, and I just witnessed a phenomenon that's entirely new to me: lightning in a snowstorm. Its been blowing thick and sideways for a good eight hours now, and the accumulation is starting to be significant. But to see lightening in the middle of winter (followed by thunder, just to confirm that it wasn't some man-made strobe) is really a singular experience. Hurray for living by the sea!
Chicago, unlike every other place I've ever lived, feels like a place I could call home for good. Now I've just gotta work out getting Rachael up here...
Saturday evening, with regret, I turned off my audiobook and handed over my credit card at the front desk of my extended-stay. He commented on the irony of how I'm working for Discover, but paying with an American Express. "Havn't drank the cool-aid yet," I quipped. Frightening how easily corporate witticisms return to me. I got some chinese food and discovered that "Krogers" are called "Jewel Oscos" here, and that they're rather nicer.
Later, Rachael and I watched Archer together. That is to say, we tried to sync it up on our diverse playback-devices and laughed with eachother over the phone as we watched on our separate screens. Remarkable how much of a feeling of closeness that shared experience engenders, despite that all we're doing is cackling with a slight delay.
Sunday I wandered around and looked for apartments all over the north shore. My resolve to avoid having a commute is getting increasingly degraded as I look at the real-estate options further south. The towns nearby are fine, but the stuff in Evanston and south of that are phenomenal. I found a place that occupies a whole floor of a building and has balconies that overlook a park, behind which lies Lake Michigan. Its more expensive that I should pay for, but I could, if I wanted to... I think the length of the commute will probably dissuade me from making that slightly unwise decision.
Another slightly unwise decision was avoided for similar reasons: a couple guys seeking roommates found me on one of the apartment search websites I'm registered on. Their offer was tempting; a duplex in a posh outskirt of the city, furnished, with gadgets, granite and wood everywhere. A bonified "really nice place." Some part of me was hoping that I could convince myself that it was worth the commute, but I did a test-drive of it yesterday (in relatively agreeable traffic conditions), found myself pounding on the steering wheel in frustration, and decided it wasn't a good idea. And they had such a nice stove...
Work's been pleasant and easy thus far, time is flying by and no one has really asked anything of me. I had been slightly worried that my boss was gonna sit me down, pull up a chair behind me, fire up SAS, and command me to solve some nightmarish problem on an unknown dataset using SQL and SAS. On the contrary, he's been rather laid-back, giving me a general idea of what he wants me to accomplish and some reports of previous work on the subject. I'm finding myself intrigued by the problems and eager to start testing my skills against them. Sadly, of course, I have to wait a couple of days for the IT issues (like installing the required software on my computer) get resolved. I have some ideas about how to take that into my own hands, though I'm not sure I should push it so immediately.
So like I said: I've been sufficiently occupied that the lonesomeness and alienation of being hundreds of miles away from my loved one and everything else I'm familiar with hasn't had an emotional impact on me yet. I'm sure that once I've settled into a routine and have the presence of mind to take stock of things, I'll be hit by it.
On the other hand, we've got the storm of the century outside, and I just witnessed a phenomenon that's entirely new to me: lightning in a snowstorm. Its been blowing thick and sideways for a good eight hours now, and the accumulation is starting to be significant. But to see lightening in the middle of winter (followed by thunder, just to confirm that it wasn't some man-made strobe) is really a singular experience. Hurray for living by the sea!
Chicago, unlike every other place I've ever lived, feels like a place I could call home for good. Now I've just gotta work out getting Rachael up here...
Monday, January 31, 2011
The first weekend apart
NOTE: For background, please see the about section of the blog.
So, TJ left on Saturday. As you might imagine, it was a tearful day for me. Like, eyes-swollen-all-day tearful. In true Rachael fashion, I immediately found something else to immerse myself in as a means of distraction - reorganizing my bedroom.
While this may not be the text-book healthiest way to handle the situation, it worked for me. I stopped crying and I was actually incredibly productive this weekend. And, more importantly, it made me feel for the first time like we might actually make it through this.
My doubts haven't been about whether or not we love each other enough, or if we would be faithful, or if we'd make enough time to see each other. The doubts have all been about myself. About whether or not I'd sabotage this, as I am prone to do. Historically speaking (I'm actively working to change this attitude going forward), I'm always waiting for the bottom to drop out of any situation. The minute I feel like things might not go perfectly, I attempt to control the situation. Control, for me, often means jumping ship when it comes to personal relationships. If you choose to follow this blog, you eventually learn a bit about why I'm like this.
But anyway, back to how this weekend made me feel like we're going to make it. As I said, I just totally immersed myself in organizing my room. Anyone who knows me realizes this is no simple task - I'm a little on the messy side. So I cleaned my room, boxed up books to be donated, took down two sets of various closet doors, and started thinking about painting. How does any of that help me feel like this is going to be OK? Because, it showed me that I'm learning new ways of coping. Instead of wallowing in sadness over TJ's departure or turning the possible difficulties of the situation over and over in my head, I chose to deny those kinds of unproductive thoughts in favor of something useful.
Maybe this kind of extreme bounce to the opposite side of the spectrum is a tad on the unhealthy side. I'm sure my therapist would want me to spend a little more time than I did actually feeling my emotions and processing them. But she'd also know that just the fact that I let myself cry as much as I did was a big step.
So, I think we're going to be OK.
I think I can continue to live my life here in Cincinnati and start planning for a life elsewhere. And I think... just maybe... this could turn out to be one of the best things that's ever happened to us. It might even be fun.
But I still miss him like hell.
-R
So, TJ left on Saturday. As you might imagine, it was a tearful day for me. Like, eyes-swollen-all-day tearful. In true Rachael fashion, I immediately found something else to immerse myself in as a means of distraction - reorganizing my bedroom.
While this may not be the text-book healthiest way to handle the situation, it worked for me. I stopped crying and I was actually incredibly productive this weekend. And, more importantly, it made me feel for the first time like we might actually make it through this.
My doubts haven't been about whether or not we love each other enough, or if we would be faithful, or if we'd make enough time to see each other. The doubts have all been about myself. About whether or not I'd sabotage this, as I am prone to do. Historically speaking (I'm actively working to change this attitude going forward), I'm always waiting for the bottom to drop out of any situation. The minute I feel like things might not go perfectly, I attempt to control the situation. Control, for me, often means jumping ship when it comes to personal relationships. If you choose to follow this blog, you eventually learn a bit about why I'm like this.
But anyway, back to how this weekend made me feel like we're going to make it. As I said, I just totally immersed myself in organizing my room. Anyone who knows me realizes this is no simple task - I'm a little on the messy side. So I cleaned my room, boxed up books to be donated, took down two sets of various closet doors, and started thinking about painting. How does any of that help me feel like this is going to be OK? Because, it showed me that I'm learning new ways of coping. Instead of wallowing in sadness over TJ's departure or turning the possible difficulties of the situation over and over in my head, I chose to deny those kinds of unproductive thoughts in favor of something useful.
Maybe this kind of extreme bounce to the opposite side of the spectrum is a tad on the unhealthy side. I'm sure my therapist would want me to spend a little more time than I did actually feeling my emotions and processing them. But she'd also know that just the fact that I let myself cry as much as I did was a big step.
So, I think we're going to be OK.
I think I can continue to live my life here in Cincinnati and start planning for a life elsewhere. And I think... just maybe... this could turn out to be one of the best things that's ever happened to us. It might even be fun.
But I still miss him like hell.
-R
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