note: o.smiljanic

Oh, I remember being head over heels for you, a school-girl crush, literally. I took every one of your classes that I could and lingered outside the class, waiting for you to come and go, serrupticiously watching you smoke, your hands curled around hand-rolled cigarettes. You smelled like leather and sweetness. Your front tooth was crooked, your hair long and messy and one day you caught me after class and invited me to hear you read your poetry at a local coffee shop. I could barely breathe. I sat at your table in the smoky coffee shop and you said this was lame, that you were going for a beer and would I like to come? And oh, by the way, this is my wife. I was so crushed (not that it was possible anyway) and declined the beer and forgot to introduce you to my friend I brought along. I was 18 and couldn't have gotten a beer anyway. The thought of you still breaks my heart a bit each time I remember you. You gave me Slowness and each time I read it, I wonder what you would have told me if I had read it in time before you moved away.

There's No Place Like Home.

I find myself quite frustrated right now.

Soon-to-be-Husband has it in his head to move where the work is.

Apparently, the work is in three places:

Montreal:

Which, selfishly, I'm ok with. It's 18 hours from where we live now. I speak French fluently (although my Quebecois is undoubtedly rusty) and the way of life there is similar to what we're used to.

And? Seriously, who doesn't love some good fondue?








Sydney:

I'm also ok with it... but it's very far far away from Kansas, if you know what I mean.

Bonus? Accents. Awesome accents. And warm. So, so warm.

Dubai:
And finally. Dubai. A place which is growing by leaps and bounds and it terrifies me a little to think of it.

I don't know why; we could make twice what we make now combined in one year. We could pay off our house and even afford to retire at an acceptable age.

But the unknown scares the shit out of me and I suppose it's time to grow up and be a good little Expat.

I'm being very silly. But my little bubble with my little job and my little house is so comfortable, I'm not sure that I want to leave. But some part of me knows I would regret it... not going.

Maybe I can talk him into waiting a year. For us to get settled into our marriage a little. For us to gel as a married couple.

The wedding alone is stressing me out. I can't imagine moving across the globe immediately after.

a note: m

I loved the way you wore overalls with scarves and it didn't look weird because you wore it. When you were happy, you did this dance, something between a shuffle and a soft-shoe. You laughed at me because I pronounced the name of a Spanish movie wrong, even though I don't speak Spanish. Your eyes were the bluest I've ever seen.

a note: c.shipstead

It always miffed me that even though you tried to act like you were 18 and cool, you tried to identify with me as though I was 50 - even though I was 18. Your house was filled with all these amazing knick-knacks and you made sweet tea with 11 different tea bags. You called it Magic Tea and I think you wished it was, because maybe then you could justify acting like a teenager. Your need for youth made me sad for you. I hope you found what you were looking for.