im cool – Page 7 – The only certainty is bad grammar

Live to love another day

Published: June 8, 2010 / Updated: June 8, 2010 Crystal feminism?, humor, im cool, medium

I keep listening to Jesse’s heartbeat.

It’s my favorite way to soak in the idea of being with him in person.

I like to lay on his chest when we watch movies and just commit the sound to memory. Sometimes, he’ll ask me about something that just happened, and I don’t have it in me to tell him that is heartbeat is just so much more interesting that the action movie he picked.

I love it so much.

I want to listen to everyday.

It’s a sound you can’t hear over the phone, or read in a Facebook message or feel in a picture.

It’s my favorite sound.

Probably because Jesse is my favorite boy.

He’s got these amazing brown eyes that could convince to jump off a cliff with him as long he was holding my hand. He thinks my blog is funny. He lets me pick the movie every time. He calls me baby and I don’t even mind it. He’s sweet, and thoughtful and just all around pretty freaking great.

And, he’s a Marine.

We’ve met while he’s on leave, and I’ve fallen for him harder than a girl should fall for a Marine only home on leave. But sometimes, we don’t get to pick those things. We don’t get to give the universe or God or whatever a list of specifics we’d like in our next love. We just meet them and see their eyes and hear their heartbeat and we fall.

Hard.

He’s leaving to go back to the Marines this weekend, and I’m not sure what the future holds for us.

~~I’m OK with that.~~ I’m trying to be OK with that.

Actually, mostly it just sucks.

A couple days ago I couldn’t pretend anymore that he wasn’t leaving, and I realized that I do care that he’ll be gone, and then, suddenly I was in a bank parking lot on a Sunday night crying and freaking out and wondering why the crap love is so hard.

For now though, at least, I’m comforting myself with the knowledge that no matter what happens, I will forever have in my memory box the sound of his heartbeat.

Attn: Swimsuit makers of the world

Published: May 29, 2010 / Updated: May 29, 2010 Crystal exercise, feminism?, humor, im cool, medium

Attn: Swimsuit makers of the world:

Why the crap are there no one-piece bathing suits in all the racks of all the stores on all the earth?

WHY?

I need a one-piece for my church mission trip. (Church people tend to have, you know, standards and whatnot, you understand).

This shouldn’t be hard.

This should be fun. I lost a crapton of weight, and I should LOVE bathing suit shopping this year.

But no. NO! Instead, I am left to scour the racks of the old-women areas trying to find something that doesn’t look like it’s actually a dress made to cover every area of my body ever.

I don’t want a dress.

I just want something cute in ONE PIECE!

CUTE!

ONE!

PIECE!

Ug.

My sister was feeling my desperation so much that she suggested I sew two pieces together. Is that what this has come to? IS IT?

I’m at my wits end here people.

(un)love,

Crystal

Dear Monica,

Published: May 25, 2010 / Updated: May 25, 2010 Crystal feminism?, god, humor, im cool, medium, Wow

Dear Monica,

Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.

How in the name of curly hair are YOU going to be 11 freaking years old Friday?

When the crap did that happen?

It was like a minute ago that I was peering over the couch at your infant body beaming and shouting every time you would blink.

Yes.

Blink.

I remember wondering what your voice would sound like. I never wondered that about our brothers because I was too young to understand that new life is amazing in every way ever. (Plus they were icky boys). But with you? I got it.

Your life is amazing.

You’re amazing.

I like to say that you’re this little version of me walking around out there, but really, you’re cooler, better and tanner.

You’re funny, you’re smart and you have an incredible heart. You have a confidence at 11 that I still struggle to find at 26. You know how to find a peaceful place among all the craziness that is our totally blended family, which includes random brothers, dads and nieces/aunts. And you know that brown, never, under any circumstances, goes with black.

Also, you get me.

That’s what I love most about having a sister. You can talk to me with your eyes. Whether it’s a conversation about how mom is nuts, or about which paper shredder to buy, no words are needed. We both get it. Mom is nuts (Sorry mom). Get the cheaper shredder.

It’s a phenomenon that I wouldn’t have ever understood before I met you. And I’m old enough to know it’s special and (hopefully) to remember to never take it for granted.

I love that you’re becoming an adult. Sometimes, you even trick me into thinking you already are one. (Is that make-up young lady?)

I can’t wait to go out on the town with you, and commiserate about our umm, “time of the months,” and how lame boys are. I can’t wait to call you up late at night, when I’m crying and freaking out and have you say exactly what I need to hear. And I can’t wait to have the privilege of having you think to call me when you’re the one crying and freaking out.

My wish for you is that you’ll use every ounce of intelligence you’ve been blessed with. That you’ll never let a boy get anything he doesn’t deserve (especially your tears). That you’ll become whatever makes you happiest. That you’ll keep your pure faith in God and Jesus and all that is good. That you’ll never forget that even though bad crap happens, it also always teaches you something. And, that you’ll get to take hot showers whenever you want and sleep in more days than not.

Love your biggest fan,

Crystal