…and just like that, I memed myself

A while back I read this post on dooce.com about a meme going around her friends on facebook. I thought her answers were insightful and entertaining at the same time, a writing style I aim to achieve here as well. And since I think my latest posts could use some more lightness, a game of Q & A might do just the trick. Here it is, a questionnaire about me and The BF:

What are your middle names?
My middle name is Alexandra. He doesn’t have one… I think… anyway if he does, I don’t know it.

How long have you been together?
Two years, three weeks, two days (yes, I looked on the calendar to check).

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Well I first noticed him at a party in December and we got together in February. He had already noticed me in class way before that though. I was oblivious to the fact that we “knew” each other before, although you can’t really call that knowing someone. We really got to know each other like in the few weeks before the “official” begin of our relationship.

Who asked whom out?
I talked to him first, I invited him first, I initiated contact first. *ducks to avoid the stones being thrown*

How old are each of you?
I just turned 24 in January, he’ll be 27 in April. I like to tease him about the fact that I’m keeping him young, because he considers himself to have the soul of an old man.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
Hmm. Neither, really. I think I’ve met his brother twice… He might have met my sister more often, but they don’t really like to interact. Besides, she lives 600km away. His brother is in the same town and I haven’t seen him more – that says something too…

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
There’s nothing signifying an oncoming breakup, but there is the occasional stress. Only this would be too personal to discuss online.

Did you go to the same school?
We’re both currently attending the same university, in the same major, only two semesters apart. Before that we were in whole different places.

Are you from the same home town?
No way. My home town is over 6.300 km away from his (according to google earth).

Who is smarter?
Ohoh, tricky question. We’ve talked about this a few times – mainly because each one thinks the other one is smarter. He’s smarter in politics, practical things, analyses and analogies. I’m smarter in cultural references, trivia, maybe basic knowledge and stuff. Basically, I think he has more fluid intelligence and I have more crystalline intelligence. The downside is that you can only increase the latter.

Who is the most sensitive?
Ahem. Next question.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
We actually don’t eat out as much as I’d like to, but when we do it’s usually at the Café Vienna. It’s cheap and gritty.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Port de Pollensa, Mallorca, Spain.

Who has the craziest exes?
I won’t go into the details, but definitely his.

Who has the worst temper?
You would think I could “win” this one straight off the bat, but it actually doesn’t apply in our couple. None of us has gotten a temper so far. I’ve screamed and even thrown things before when I got angry, and I’ve heard him get loud and angry before too, but never at each other. When it’s about us, the rational side of our brains take over. We talk, without raising our voice, or go mute. That’s it. There just doesn’t seem to be a point in doing anything else.

Who does the cooking?
I cook for myself, he goes to the cafeteria, because he says he can’t cook. But he has made me meals before, just as I have for him. When we eat together we usually cook together, too.

Who is the neat-freak?
Guilty as charged.

Who is more stubborn?
We both are. Never had a fight off to see who would win, though.

Who hogs the bed?
Okay, well this time it’s him. With the blankets, too. I might have the nasty habit of rummaging around alot before I get settled, but once I’m there that’s it. I wake up exactly the same. Sure, he might need more space because he’s bigger, but still – when he’s asleep he wouldn’t even notice if he rolled right over me.

Who wakes up earlier?
Definitely him. He just always has so much to do. And I’m a sleepy head.

Where was your first date?
Well we didn’t really have a first date… or any real “date”, for that matter…

Who is more jealous?
Again I would have to say both, although I might be leaning a little towards him… I don’t think he would act on it, and I know I wouldn’t, but we sure are quick to ask questions.

How long did it take to get serious?
Practically instantly. From the beginning it was clear that we both wanted a relationship with each other, not a fling.

Who eats more?
Depends on how you define that. I surely snack more, so I eat more often. But on the quantity of one meal, he wins hands down. He’s much faster to finish, too.

Who does the laundry?
To each his own.

Who’s better with the computer?
He has a Mac, I have a PC. There really is no comparing here. Although he did study computer sciences for a while… so when there’s a bug, or anything soft- or hard-drive-wise, it’d probably go to him. But I’m more internet-savvy.

Who drives when you are together?
When we’re in Germany, he does, when we’re in France, I do. But it hasn’t happened that often.

My Valium

I didn’t write anything yesterday for two reasons: first, no one shows up on my blog on sundays. I’m actually thinking of taking that day off, permanently. Second, I was too busy freaking out.

I have this really weird pattern, where when something new comes up I’m totally lost and panicky and nervous and can’t stop pacing around my four walls or babbling incoherent stuff or having racing thoughts or… you get the picture. But then, THEN, when like a day has past, or something came up that made me get over it, I’m all like: what? Something happened? Really? Huh. Oh well. Couldn’t have been that bad. *Zen*

So yesterday was one of those days, where all of a sudden I woke up and then everything started going haywire, my nerves were rather raw (I’ll spare you the details). But then came the evening, and I finally get a call back from The BF. And after hearing about just two words out of his mouth I am instantly calmed down. No worries. Even though I hadn’t told him about my day yet. We make this joke about how he is my valium and I am his prozac, because prozac is AWESOME, but seriously, it works for me. How many times in my internship, or with my family, or at the university, was I a total bundle of nerves, all tensed up, and then just thinking about how I would talk to him about it eased me down.

He has stuff of his own, don’t get me wrong, he has a lot more on his plate than I do, so it’s not like I run to him for every little thing. But it’s like a friend of mine said recently: he would make a good therapist, if only because when he says everything will be alright YOU BELIEVE HIM. And the best part is that he means it, because he’s definitely not the kind of guy who will say something just to make you feel better. He looks at the big picture. “Do these pants make my butt look big” – “Yes”. “Is everything going to be ok?” – “Yes”. Hooray!

He just has an aura of calm and strength and reliability (I AM NOT GUSHING, many have said this before besides me), even if something completely different is going on inside. Because in fact, we are both worry-worts. I never thought I could find someone who would think all day long more than I do, but he does. The difference is that he worries about his own life, his loved ones, his many responsibilities, in silence. Whereas someone just needs to shift the air around me and I’ll be running around like a chicken whos head has been chopped off screaming: The sky is falling! The sky is falling! WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!

The world is a vampire

This title is not only part of a great Smashing Pumpkins song (I can’t get enough of them lately), but also reminds me of the many nightmares I had as a child. I very distinctly remember seeing that fanged head in the dark corner of the ceiling above my bed, and the many times I was chased by one in my dreams. I actually still have nightmares about being chased, followed, persecuted. I don’t know why.

This post – just to warn you – is in a very different tone than the last. And although Jo’s last comment did lift my spirits, I was just before in a mood that sometimes overcomes me and that I felt like writing about. I woke up not feeling very well. Not ill or anything, just one of those rather “down” days. Now there are down days like oh, I’m kinda sluggish today, not very on top of things. Those are the down days I show.

Then there are down days like today, rather bad days, days where I feel crushed for no particular reason whatsoever. Believe me, I try to find the reason, it’s just not there. It’s an impulse to close the window to shield me, not go outside, do not make a move or the world out there WILL SWALLOW ME WHOLE.

In moments like that I just feel like running to The BF, bury myself in his chest, have him hold me very tight so that no harm comes to me. He is that strong. He can hold off anything. The thing is, that he doesn’t know this. Because these are the down days I don’t show, not if I can help it.

I guess I’m sharing this now because I have to force myself to become more openly vulnerable. I’ve always liked to portray a strong image, one of a person who relies on no-one and gets along by herself. I am independent could be my motto. Something that has been encouraged all along by my mother, the root of this problem actually, because she has WORRY written all over her. Inevitably, a part of that has been passed on to me. And I really do try to hold my shit together most of the time, because I don’t want my BF thinking oh my god, I’m with an anxiety-ridden scare-cat. Only parts of that seep through.

And I’m not blaming this all on my mother, I know there are many depths of where this comes from. I just thought I’d be over them by now. For instance, when we moved from the US to France (that was 15 years ago), I was such a confident little kid. Loud, thick-headed, ballsy. Then it all changed. Not at once, it was hard to realise, but slowly creeping from being rejected for some of the things I did or said (I was different) to being a part of my personality, an insecure person.

What really didn’t help was of course when the main stabilising factor in the house was gone – my father. My mom and dad balanced each other out. He was the calm but strong type, just like The BF. You could say that’s why I get the impulse to be protected by The BF, but I’m just not going into that “finding a partner like the missing father” thing. Nuhuh. I just know that it plays a part, a much bigger one than I’d like, because I find myself wondering very often how I would be like had I had the influence of my father all this time. That’s missing. And so I’ve had to figure out a lot of things on my own, not knowing what’s right, just having to rely on my guts. With time I will learn more and more that yes, I can take care of myself, I am a strong person, but it’s ok to rely on someone else from time to time.

BF, I’m really glad I have you, and that you can understand this.