Last night, I gave The Stalker a set of keys to my place. The night before we were shaking our heads at how we haven’t even hit the two month mark in our budding relationship even though it feels like we’ve been together for years.

We already have baby names picked out, although that isn’t really as crazy as it sounds because I’ve had my baby name picked out before we met and so did she. I believe we discussed the kind of weddings we want on our first date (I’m a little disappointed that she’s not into the idea of getting married in Vegas by a Dolly Parton impersonator). We even have a day scheduled next month for when we’re going to elope and then run off to join the circus. February 15th – mark your calendars.

Maybe it’s my advanced age or maybe it’s my changing ideas about love and happiness and all that sappy stuff intertwined with all that emotional stability and self-esteem stuff but I seem to have gotten to a point in my life where I’m talking about marriage and children all the time.

I’m not complaining, don’t get me wrong. All my previous relationships with the exclusion of the boi have gotten pretty serious pretty darned quick. I mean, I’ve been engaged twice, although I didn’t take the first one all that seriously since I was only 18. Let’s just say commitment has never really been a problem for me.

I think the best part of the way things have been going with The Stalker so far is the lack of fear. Every once in a while I’ll get the briefest of glimpse of imminent disaster of epic proportions but for the most part, I’m not afraid that I’ll get hurt or maimed in the process. It’s kind of freeing to be able to enjoy being in the moment.

You guys remember The Stalker from a couple months back? Well despite the creepiness and mania she turned out to be a pretty awesome lass and we’ve been dating for a while now and we’re officially girlfriend and girlfriend.

I don’t know what to say about her really. She’s one of those people who I feel like I’ve known forever and when we’re together there’s just this sense of being completely comfortable. That and she’s the only other person I’ve met who got my reference about Jared and Sydney.

In a really odd way she totally reminds me of rollermilf in terms of their history, their strength, how they’re both bi girls who mostly dated men and had a brief flirtation with uber-butch status, how they both hit me and say I hate you whenever I tell them some outrageous lie and get them to believe me for a split second (which is pretty much all the time), and even how they both have a freakin’ tattoo at the back of their neck from their teenage years.

It’s frightening because I wonder if I’m just sublimating but then I notice how different they are too and I like the differences. The differences also remind me that they’re completely different people and they help me remember to not put my fears about love and relationships at the forefront of my decisions.

I don’t believe in soul-mates or anything like that even though she does but it’s a rarity to find someone who makes you smile just because they exist so I’m going to try and make this one last for as long as I can.

So I got a TV this weekend and it’s sort of consumed my life since. Before you start wondering if I’ve completely run out of things to blog about and have been reduced to talking about my electronic devices, you have to understand, this is a pretty big deal for me. Most people get their first car or their first homes when they get to my age. Me, I get my first TV set (and really, it’s my parents that got it for me).

Anyhow, as much as I love TV, my apartments have just never really been set up for it. I also couldn’t really afford it and it was not high on my list of priorities after food, rent, tuition, and shoes. Now that I have one, I realize exactly how costly it can be in both time and money. I’ve spent the last few days searching for appropriate furniture so that my TV won’t have to be balanced on top of a couple of speakers but also won’t become the centerpiece of the room. It’s a pretty difficult task even after narrowing down my search to Ikea only. (I feel like it’s the lesbian thing to do.)

When I’m not doing that, I’m researching alternatives to subscribing for cable. At the moment, even with an antenna, I get a grand total of zero channels so technically, I can still say I don’t have TV at my place. So far, I’ve narrowed the selection down to Apple TV or the Boxee Box whenever that comes out so that I can watch all my downloaded shows on something bigger than a 12″ laptop. I’m fairly excited about this prospect.

I’ve also been researching which gaming system I should get and I think I’ve decided on the Wii because I saw that there’s a Nerf combat game on the Wii that comes WITH A NERF GUN!! I have also started a list of games (plus accessories) that I need to get and at the top of that list is Guitar Hero 5 and the Country Tracks version of Rock Band so that I can practice and play with my brother on the Expert level whenever the novelty of his new baby wears out.

Like I said, it’s been consuming my life. Anyways, guess what I did on my first two evenings with my TV? I filled out crosswords, listened to music and read my new book. See, I don’t need a TV to be a total boob.

I was having a conversation last night about career ambition and the importance of being driven.  I’ve talked before about how I’m not particularly ambitious when it comes to career choices and also about how this seems to clash with other people’s ideas of appropriate life choices. I remember vividly how an ex criticized me for prioritizing my personal goals over my professional ones and it was added to the list of reasons why she dumped me.

I can’t really explain why I’m not driven the way some people are. I was thinking about it on my walk to work this morning and I came up with the metaphor of how sometimes when you drive into an empty parking lot you end up being rather indecisive about where to park. You have the whole lot in front of you and that makes it hard to pick the perfect spot. I’ve always been told that I have the ability and the opportunity to do anything I wanted and it’s so ingrained that I still believe every word of it.

My teachers, family, friends, they all believe I have potential for great things and I shouldn’t waste it. I remember in First Grade, we were asked what we wanted to be when we grew up and then we had to paint a picture of it. I said I wanted to be a nurse. When one of the aunties (family friends) heard about it, she asked why in the world I wanted to be a nurse since nurses had to do all the dirty work and got none of the glory. She said I should aim to be a doctor instead.

I don’t recall wanting to be a doctor after that but I do remember thinking that I shouldn’t be a nurse (not to be confused with thinking that I didn’t want to be a nurse).

I think between that, and wanting to be a cop and a few other careers I’ve been interested in over the years, I just want to work in a field where I get to help people. The problem is, we as a society don’t really place a lot of value in these professions aside from a few laudatory remarks about these ‘thankless jobs’. The world I live in, as in the people around me, and my background makes it difficult to even seriously think about entering these fields. If I wanted to teach, I should be a university professor. If I wanted to work in medicine, I should be a doctor, not a nurse. If I wanted to help out society, I should be a lawyer, not a social worker because you know, don’t want to waste that potential or whatever.

My god, how bourgeois is it of me to complain about having too many choices. I’m almost ashamed.

2009, you sucked. Everywhere I turned, people were struck down by cancer and other horrid situations. There were break-ups a plenty and a general breakdown of social order.

Let’s hope 2010 will be better for all. Best of luck everyone.

I got to see The Pea and rollermilf the other day and was able to spend an entire night and morning with them. it was awesome and tear-y but mostly awesome.

In other ways though I’m a little torn about the experience. She was so excited to see me and apparently had been jumping around in the car asking about my arrival. It was as if no time had passed and she wanted to tell me everything and show me her new house and her new toys. We played make-believe. We were silly. The adults got to chat a bit while she was distracted by cartoons. At one point she asked if I was going to be her mommy and it nearly broke my heart.

At the bus station, she didn’t want me to leave. The Pea is a happy go-lucky kid and while she does do the normal upset toddler bratty tantrum thing sometimes, I’ve never seen her sad. I gave her a hug and kisses and told her I loved her forever and ever and the stoic look on her face broke my heart all over again.

On the one hand, that feeling of mom-ness never goes away and it’s painful to see your child sad. When rollermilf didn’t let me see her this summer to protect her from this sadness, I was so angry but I guess I can understand it. I still want The Pea to be a carefree child with days filled with nothing but joy and happiness. While I know that spending time together makes her happy, having to leave at the end of the day and seeing how it upsets her makes me wonder if hanging around is such a good idea.

On the other hand, I can’t express how ecstatic I feel knowing that she still loves me (or at least an approximation of love). My biggest fear about all this is that she’ll forget me entirely while to me, she remains my little girl whom I love more than anyone in the world, but she remembers who I am a year later (that’s a whole 1/3 of her life!) and I can’t even begin to describe how that makes me feel. It’s selfish of me, I know, but I can’t let her go, ever.

Anyways, I have no idea when I will be able to see them again. I hope it will be sooner rather than later. I’m sure I won’t have figured out the moral conundrum this whole situation has turned out to be but in the meantime, I’m grateful that rollermilf and I are on friendly terms and that she’s giving me the chance to stay in The Pea’s life, which is maybe one of the best gifts I have ever received.

I don’t know her stats but her mom was in the hospital for almost 30 hours before she showed up.

ETA: She’s a giant at 8lbs 4oz. Born Dec 28, 22:42. Operation: turn-the-kid-into-a-dyke commences in the morning.