I get to see the LOVE of my LIFE tomorrow!

Dear Tucker, we are having a playdate tomorrow at a fundraising event with your Aunt Sam and cousin Mia. Please, PLEASE be on your best behavior. Mama is SO FREAKING EXCITED to see you. I'm sorry you're a "divorced child" right now, but as soon as Mama gets enough money saved up to move out, it will be just the two of us. I love you, my sweet boy.

He's excited too. He just doesn't know it yet. I bet this look will be on his face allllll day.

Dear Ex, I have to see you tomorrow to pick up Tuck. Please do not make this awkward. Although, I have a feeling it will be...just from the texts you have been sending me. I don't know how to take them. Are you just saying all of those things to try and make me feel better, or do you realize you jumped the gun on your decision to end things? As much as I still love you and want to be with you, my heart still hurts too much. You are so confusing to me.

Dear Parents, why have you not picked up on my 50 hints that I want to go to the Hunter Hayes/Carrie Underwood concert in November? Hunter has a delicious voice, albet a baby face, and Carrie is absolutely beautiful and a music icon. Those things mean we HAVE to go. No excuses. You guys both make 2 times more than I do, so go buy the tickets! Maybe I'll get you a tshirt...to share...(those things are expensive!) and P.S. I'm still mad you didn't bring me back pineapple from Hawaii.

How could you NOT want to see them?!

Dear random Obama Law, because of you, we didn't get our insurance premium taken out of this check...because you paid it for us! Thank you for sparing my $27.25 (hey...when you only make what I do, it's nice!).

Dear Today, you are a gorgeous fall afternoon. I'm sad I have to watch you through the wall of windows at work. I hope you keep this up the entire weekend.

Dear Eureka, Illinois, get ready, because I am invading you next weekend! Homecoming 2012 is sure to be a blast, especially because this time I can watch the game instead of having to cheer at in (okay...who am I kidding, I spent more time watching the game and yelling than chanting and stunting). GOOOO RED DEVILS!



CATE


 

The Boyfriend Diaries: The Punk

All of these recent happenings have got me thinking about the many crazy relationships I was stupid enough to get in to, and I figured it'd make good reading material, and is also a good therapy. So, without further ado, I present to you volume 1 of The Boyfriend Diaries.

The Punk was my first real boyfriend. We met the summer of 2005, the summer before my senior year (yeah..I'm a late bloomer I guess). We met at Warped Tour, of all places (a huge punk/rock/alternative concert). He had tagged along with his friend, who was trying to date this girl I knew. We met and I instantly thought he was cute with his farmers tan, blond hair, and bright blue eyes. My friend Stacey fell in love, though. She was determined to make this farm boy hers, and I understood. I was so used to being the single one that it didn't even phase me to hang in the background. Boys never looked at me anyway. I was too short, painfully shy, and extremely gawky.

Needless to say, The Punk wasn't interested in Stace. He liked me. I was shocked, but as our group stood in the lawn listening to Fall Out Boy belt out their latest hits, he shyly asked me if he could stand next to me. During the bridge to "Sugar, We're Going Down," his hand found mine. His arms were around my waist by the time the band came back for their encore, and by the end of the night I was starstruck. We all went to Steak & Shake after the long day of concerts, and when it was time to go home he gave me a kiss on the cheek and his phone number.

The Punk and I officially started dating about a month later. He lived 2 hours away from me, and was 2 years younger. We somehow made it work, by talking on the phone for hours every night, to alternating weekend visits. In October, my world came crashing down (hey I was 18, give me a break).

The Punk had cheated on me. On my 18th birthday, he went to his school's fall dance (I don't remember why I wasn't able to go?) with his "friend" Audrey, and they kissed. Nothing more, but I was still devastated. I remember being at work when Stacey texted me to tell me she had heard. My heart stopped as I started getting phone call after phone call from The Punk. It was true. He was sorry. I vowed to never speak to him again.

The next week (I know...I know) we talked. He apologized some more, and we agreed to get back together the next time we saw each other. Which was the day after Thanksgiving. A month away. I blame it on being a dumb high-schooler, but really?! How absurd is that. Getting back together at a pre-determined date? Ugh. Old self, you make me nauseous sometimes.

Well, the Big Day finally came, and we got back together. Things were fine, until I went to visit Stacey who had that point moved to California to pursue her dream of being an actress (and the girl actually did it!). It was February, and as Stace and I gossiped and ate Chinese food while creeping on Myspace, I noticed something. The Punk was immature. I mean, very. I guess I had never noticed the effects of our age gap before. I knew in my gut that I shouldn't be with him, so I broke things off. With a Myspace message. Yes...I was that girl.

After tumulus years of hating each other to being friends to liking each other to falling back in love, The Punk and I maintained this pretty awesome friendship. He is the only ex I talk to today. The Punk was my first love, and a place in my heart will always be his. We like to play the "what if?" game, but I think both of us know that we're just simply never meant to be. He's become the kind of friend that I can tell anything to, and I cherish that. I never thought I would consider the first boy to break my heart one of my greatest friends, but whatever.

Stay tuned for more of The Boyfriend Diaries. Trust me, I have plenty.

Are you and your first love still friends?

Yours truly and The Punk. This wasn't taken when we dated, probably a year or so after. We were at a house party, which explains the goofy expressions. I also look 5.

Cate

My Bucket List

Well, it's been a week since "the official break-up," and I'm doing alright. I say alright, because while I realize more and more every day that Tyler was not right for me and there was a lot about him and our relationship I didn't like, it's still hard. A break-up always is. It's hard knowing you're just....you. Not half of a couple. I not only am without a "love," but also a great friend. He of course spouted off the "I really want to stay friends" speech, but I ignored it. I need my time. My space. I also have realized something HUGE this past week. I need to live my life for me...no one else. With that being said, I want to make a list of things I want to do/accomplish in my life. For me.
*start going to church again. I went to church with my best friend and her husband this weekend, and loved it. I'm definitely going back.
*visit Chicago and do all the touristy things, like go see The Bean.
*tithe.
*adopt a child, whether it is financially or physically.
*buy a new car.
*get my own apartment.
*go on a cruise.
*go zip lining.
*take surfing lessons...in Hawaii.
*go to the Harry Potter theme park.
*go on a ride in a hot-air balloon.
*learn how to actually do my hair (curl, french braid, sock bun, etc.).
*get in shape.
*run a marathon.
*swim with dolphins.
*reconcile with my dad.
*visit my "sister" in Japan (exchange student my family hosted in high school).
*be completely debt-free.
*get Lasik surgery (sooooo scared of this!)
*visit every continent.
*become more self confident.
*be truly 100% happy.

What's on your bucket list?

CATE

I believe in...

I'm linking up with one of my FAVORITE bloggers today, Erin from Living in Yellow. We live in the same state and I hope I get to meet her IRL some day.

 

I believe in...

 

...taking long, luxurious naps whenever possible.

...laughing until your cheeks hurt.

...cranking up your radio and singing your heart out to a song that makes your heart happy. Right now, that song is TSwift's newest. Thanks, Swifty!

...true love. My soul mate is out there, somewhere.

...chocolate as a cure-all.

...retail therapy.

...girl time, family time, and boy time.

...bubble baths.

...Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior. No matter how far I stray, He loves me.

...not having a home without a pet.

...the power of a good book and cup of coffee on a rainy day.

...living life to the fullest, because you never know how long you have.

...the cure to cancer. It's out there, somewhere. Waiting to be discovered.

...a good, hard, cleansing cry...the kind that exhausts you so you sleep peacefully for the first time in days.

...the kindness of strangers.

...the power of music.

...the power of love.

Mr. Perfect (for me)

 

Does anyone remember the movie Practical Magic? It had Sandra Bullock in it, and it was about sisters that were witches (the good kind). In one of the scenes early on in the movie, the actress playing kid-Sandra is making a "spell" for her ideal man. At the time, I laughed because this kid is all of 12 years old...waaaaay too young to even be thinking about love. But now? Now I get it. Because her "ideal man" finds her and they fall in love (of course). With recent happenings in my life, I wish it was that easy. I do truly believe that God put a man somewhere on this earth especially for me. My soul mate. I just wish he would hurry up and find me. Or I would find him. Either one.

Before anyone jumps down my throat, give me a chance to explain myself. I will be 25 next month. I've been through quite a roller coaster the past 3 years, and I have matured into the person that I hope I am for years to come. I know who I am, and I am comfortable with that. I also know exactly what I want/don't want in my soul mate. I say soul mate, because when I get married it will be only once. I'm a "divorced kid," and hate it. Obviously I don't want that to happen to my future offspring.

All that being said, I've made a small list. God, I know you read my blog. Or at least I hope you do. I hope the man you made for me has some of these qualities, if not all of them. Thanks :)

My soul mate will...
...be close with his family, and want to be close with my family.
...be close to God, and understand that He is an important part in any relationship (something I've forgotten over the past years).
...support me in all of my efforts, offer a shoulder to me when I fail and a hug for when I succeed.
...be up for trying new things with me.
...be wise, confident, mature, honest, funny, caring, accepting, understanding, and faithful.
...love me enough to fight for our relationship if need be.
...realize that I, as most girls, love random surprises, and act accordingly.
...be a good cook and a good enough sport to be okay with doing 75% of the cooking (I've got dessert duty!).
...not be afraid to say "I love you" every day or even multiple times a day.
...love me for who I am, and will not try to mold me into someone he wishes I was.

Well, there ya have it. There is so much more that I could add to this, but I think I'll save that for another time. Oh, and God? If you could make him look like this man, I'd really appreciate it. ;)

mmmmm...

 

xo, Cate

9/15/12...my almost wedding

DISCLAIMER: This is a long, text heavy post. But..please read. I'd be grateful.

9/15/12 was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. It was supposed to an extremely special day full of family, friends, love, and laughter. 9/15/12 was supposed to be my wedding day.

Roger and I met in high school in 2004. We didn’t date until my junior year of college, 2009 (long story…post on that later). He proposed on St. Patricks Day of 2011, while we were vacationing with friends on South Beach. I was shocked. Not that he was thinking marriage (we had talked about it before), but shocked that it was so soon. We hadn’t even been dating 2 years…

I said yes, of course. Immediately after that, I started planning my wedding. No joke, I was standing on the beach thinking about dates, venues, dresses, etc. I should have known then what a mistake I had made.

Fast forward a couple months to end of summer. I was now working as an insurance agent, working looong hours, and making twice what Roger made as a biomedical technician. I offered to help out with bills, but for some reason, he took offense to that. I brushed it off, and continued working harder and harder. My hard work paid off when I was invited to attend a conference at my company’s headquarters in McKinney, TX. I was so excited, and told Roger that night. The only thing he said was “you’re going to be gone for an entire week? What am I supposed to do?” The closer the time for the conference got, the more controlling and demanding Roger was. It got to the point where I relished my long days, so I didn’t have to go home and be miserable with a fiancé that hated my job, complained about my hours, and whined about me wanting to hang out with friends.

The conference finally came, and I was free from his negativity for an entire week. It was blissful. One night, as I lay in my hotel room texting with a work friend back home, I realized that I missed my work friends a lot more than Roger. In fact, I didn’t miss Roger at all. This sent off warning bells in my head.

When I got home from Texas, I sat Roger down and told him we needed to talk. I explained that I wasn’t happy, and I told him why. I also told him I wanted to start our pre-marital counseling early. He scoffed at that idea, and refused to go. I cried my eyes out on our futon that night, and when I woke up, I knew what I had to do. I packed a bag, took off my ring, and wrote a note to Roger. I explained that I was serious, and if he didn’t want to commit to counseling to make our relationship work, I would leave. I told him I was going to stay with a friend, that I needed time to think.

Being away from him that first night opened my eyes to just how controlled my life was. I was his puppet. I went through the motions and he pulled the strings. I knew then that I had to leave. I called and asked if he had thought about counseling, and he said what he always did…”I don’t think we need it…can’t we just talk?”  I was driving then, and I pulled over, put my head down, and mumbled the dreaded words. “I don’t think this is going to work out. I’ll come get my things this weekend. I’ll leave the ring (he had given it back to me and pleaded with me to wear it).

That night was about 13 months ago. We stayed friends at first, and then he started dating around November. We still occasionally talked up until this June, when he met Tyler at my best friend’s wedding. His girlfriend wasn’t there, so I can only imagine how uncomfortable he was. My heart aches that we aren’t friends anymore, but I know I hurt him deeply.

I hope that whatever he ends up doing today, he is happy. He deserves to be happy, and so do I. So, what am I doing?   I’m not too sure. I was supposed to have plans with Tyler, but if you read my letters post you know why that isn't happening. Definitely planning on some retail therapy and a pedicure though.  It’s not quite comparable to a wedding night, but I wouldn’t have that any other way J

CATE

Friday's Letters

Linking up with Ashley today. Haven't done it in awhile.

Dear Parents, you left for a week in Hawaii this morning. I'm jealous. You better bring me some pineapple or I won't water your plants.
Dear wedding dress in my closet, I was supposed to wear you tomorrow. Maybe I'll put you on tonight just to see if you fit. (post elaborating on that tomorrow, and it's a good one. Tune in, folks.)
Dear Triple A aka Alexandra, seriously, I love you. And I don't even know you. That might be slightly creepy to people not in blog-land, but we get it. Thank you so much for your encouragment these past few days. What would I do without you?
Dear relationships, sometimes...you suck. Tyler and I are on a "break." I don't even know what that means. Supposedly we are talking on Monday but I'm not getting my hopes up.
Dear Castleton Mall, get ready for an invasion tomorrow. Brokenhearted Cate+payday=a much needed shopping spree. Hitting up F21 and H&M for some cheapies but goodies.
Dear job, you should really give me a raise so that I can splurge even more this weekend.
Dear supervisor, I'm kind of sad you're leaving. We were just getting used to each other and actually getting along...bummer.
Dear weekend, this one is going to be rough...especially without Ty. Please be good to me.

CATE

D Diaries #1

I know, I know. I haven't posted in forever. Part of it is because I haven't really had time, part of it is because I didn't feel like it, and part of it is because I didn't like the blogger I was becoming. Sure, doing happy fun link-ups is fun, but I started this blog as something more. I started it as a place to write down my thoughts, as a sort of therapy. I need to get back to that.

If you haven't been paying attention to older posts, I have depression. I choose to not be medicated, because I don't like how medication makes me feel (except Exedrin Migraine and Midol!). This means there are lots of days where I am completely fine, and days where I just want to curl up in a ball and cry my eyes out.

With that being said, lets get one thing straight. I am NOT "depressed." I have depression. There is a difference. There is a chemical inbalance in my brain that causes me to be this way. It can be triggered by different things, and can be repressed sometimes, but it is always there.

The earliest I can remember having my depression is when I was in middle school. My beloved grandpa had passed away the year before I started 7th grade, and for some reason, without him I was lost. I got terrible grades, and was absolutely horrible to live with. I was sad all the time, and at that point I was suicidal. I didn't want to live anymore. I wanted to be with my grandpa. I remember telling my mom that, and we cried together on my bed. I was secretly hoping that she would take me to Valley Vista, an in/outpatient treatment center. I knew I needed help. Well, she didn't...instead I was sent to a therapist for anger managment therapy. Amy was really nice, but I could never get up the courage to tell her the things that were running through my head.

I dealt with my "issue" (back then I thought what I was feeling was embarrassing and wrong) by becoming extremely nasty to live with, getting horrible grades, and generally being unpleasant. I never brought up my feelings with my mom again, and kept them to myself. I didn't talk to anyone about it, not even my best friend. To this day, she doesn't know.

My junior year of high school, I got myself in gear grades-wise. I realized that college was my chance to escape, and I had always dreamed of film school. I struggled in class, and was trying my best to improve my grades little by little. My mom is an optometrist, and is extremely smart. So smart, that she felt the need to kep all of her report cards and compare them to mine every quarter/semester. As I looked at her row of As and then at my row of C+ and Bs...I felt awful. I didn't say anything because I knew nothing would help the situation. She broke a piece of my heart and trust with every comparison. My trust in her was completely gone the day she caught me on AIM instead of doing math homework. After yelling and taking my computer away, she told me (I will never forget these words as long as I live) "You'll never get in to college. You'll never amount to anything. You're going to live in a box under a bridge and ask 'do you want fries with that' as a career."  I decided to prove her wrong. I got in to 6/10 schools I had applied to. I only told my parents about 1...Eureka. It was the cheapest. Regardless of my private success, her words had triggered my depression and I spent the rest of high school sullen, quiet, and going through the motions.

In college, I felt like I could breathe again. I was away from my parents, who I associated with my depression and anxiety (yes, I had developed that as well). I made some bad choices my freshman year as far as going to classes, so sophomore year I found myself falling behind in everything. I started having panic attacks, and would go through days of severe depression. I'm talking hiding in my room, being completely withdrawn and silent, and general all-around gloom. I was talking to a dear family friend one night, and I admitted what I was feeling. Joey, bless his heart, jumped into action, called my mom to explain the situation, and drove 3 1/2 hours in the snow to come get me. At 9 pm. He spent the night and we drove to Indy the next day in a blizzard. I stayed home for a week, then went back to school. My mom and I never really discussed how I was feeling, she just accepted the fact that I needed to be home for a bit.

I graduated college, went through multiple jobs, and here I am. About to turn 25, working for an Indycar team, have a wonderful boyfriend, etc. And yet...I find myself falling back into that dark time. I finally mustered up the courage to tell Tyler, and he suggested therapy. I chose to start this blog.

So please, bare with me. I'm struggling.

Have any of you suffered through this? Known anyone that has? Does anyone understand? I as always, appreciate kind thoughts and good advice.