Sav and Stav are still in Tallahassee

Objects in motion stay in motion, and sometimes they get to moving so fast that looking behind them makes them nauseous.

I keep forgetting there is anything behind me.

A forgotten blog is like a time capsule, reminding me what life was like before work was everything.

Work is everything now, by the way.

I can honestly say that this is the best fit for my life that I have found. Graduate school took some getting used to. I had to learn how to read, and how to know what not to read, and how to write papers, and when it wasn't okay to B.S. papers, and how important work ethic really is.

Work ethic is everything, by the way.

And I just read about how I felt about Brian when we had been together for two and half years. Now, after five and half years I am surprised at how much we are the same, and by which things are different.

We have continued to grow up together, like I said we would.
We talk about everything, and we fight better now (and less) than ever.
We are independent. We still do our own things. Some say that's a fault that will drive us apart. So far, it has kept us sane pulled us together.
We are less romantic and ten thousand times more romantic than we were when we made our fairy-tale move.

So understanding that I may not write again for another 2.5 years, I'd like to set some intentions, and see how they follow through for the next time I pop open this time capsule:

 To stay artistic. Make art. See art.

To not forget that part of a great work ethic is a commitment to play.

To remember that that means balance.

To remember that luxury is excess and saving is always key, 

no matter how much money we make.

To take vacations together.

To take vacations with friends.

To keep climbing.

To keep bending.

To keep learning how to love.

Who knows where we'll be after the next 2.5 years...

Sav and Stav are home againo

Home is wherever I am with you.

True story. We're together again and even though we're hundreds of miles from where we grew up, where we met, and where we've called home for the past three years.

I feel so very at home, even in this super humid land, with a super tiny apartment. I feel at home because I am with Brian, and he is my home-boy.

Feel free to visit me and check out my Tally adventures at thetallytype.wordpress.com

Sav and Stav begin the transition

Sav was excited and optimistic about traveling to the new, magical place called "Tallahssee." Stav was more realistic. He said it would be difficult. He said they would miss each other. They were both right.

Brian has left now. Our dear friend Emily (check out her blog here: http://redhairextraordinaire.blogspot.com/ ) agreed to drive down with Brian in her Explorer. Not so great on gas-mileage, exemplary in storage space. Hooray!

I remain here alone, living from bags in a room piled with my every belonging, longing for my lover and relishing my last tastes of Nashville. In just two weeks, we'll be together again. Sigh.

Sav and Stav shed some weight

Once upon a time, Sav had a dream that school was her passion and, after awaking, she decided she must go back. She searched near and she searched far for the perfect opportunity, and when she found it, she and Stav packed their bags and headed south to a mystical land called "Florida"...

I am quite openly a Type B personality. I like a little chaos. I like messy creativeness and artsy appearances. My organizational skill set is still being honed, but as far as most Type Bs go, I feel I do have the coping mechanisms to fit into and succeed in the "real world."

In fact, I just took an online quiz which confirmed that I am Type B, but that I have my life together. That's good.

Brian is a Type A kind of guy. If he doesn't know what he's doing all day when he wakes up in the morning, it can be stressful. If I call at 5:30 and say, "Hey, want to meet friends for drinks at 7?" he almost certainly will say no. He needs time to process, to fit it into his schedule. He likes minimalist style, sleek lines, and solid colors. However, he is okay with a little artistic madness, and he (unlike most Type As) believes in expressing his feelings. I love all of these things about him.

Typically, my Type Bish attitude goes well with his Type Aish attitude, but this move is proving our Types quite well.

While I'm pretty organized (I've been packed, with boxes labeled and numbered, for 2 weeks), I'm very carefree about the whole thing. I don't want to spend a lot of money, so I put up all my cumbersome items on Craigslist and sold them. I now own but one bookshelf, which, if it cannot be broken down, will also end up on CL. I do not own a bed, nor a desk, nor a bike. I gave away over half of my clothes. I actually got receipts for all of my donations and will be writing them off next year (so against my Type B typical ignorance of tax exemptions. However, I have yet to file these important items.. hmm).

Brian is- well, he's trying. He did sell his bike. And two of his guitars, and his amp. He's doing well- but he does want to keep his books and his desk and almost all of his clothes. He's going to take 2 trips in the car to FL to get all of his belongings there. I will squeeze in my stuff and most of our "joint" items in one car trip down.

I am feeling good about this. It was hard to sell my beloved baker's rack, but $20 cash in my hands somehow made me so happy! It was rough to give away clothes instead of wearing them until they were destroyed, but I got to give them to flood victims AND write it off my taxes! Plus, all of my clothes now fit in TWO suitcases. I'm thrilled at feeling simplified.

This is almost a relaxing situation for me, Type B. I get to go to a new place and start over. I get to bring only the things I really love and be with the person I love and begin again. I get to go thrifting to buy lamps and silverware and desks. The prospects are so exciting.

Type A Brian is finding this whole thing very stressful. Granted, he is also pressured with finding a new job- but he worries about what we'll sleep on, and where we'll go and who we'll see and everything else.

But both of us, Type A and B, are appreciative of this chance to have an adventure together. It's definitely the most romantic thing we've ever done together. We're giving up jobs and lives and friends and moving together. More than that, he's giving up his life and friends and going with me.

True to my Type, I'm now headed to the first of many going-away parties and putting off my cleaning and other things that must be accomplished until later. Happy Sunday to all.

Sav and Stav do some growing up

Sav never really believed that after the princess met her prince, the two lived happily ever after.. But since no one ever wrote that part of the story, she and Stav are playing the "ever after" by ear.

Like most mothers do, Mom told me that if I didn't have anything nice to say, I shouldn't say anything at all. So I've been quiet.

Tonight, however, I had one of those rare moments of break-through. My friend Ashley and I were chatting over our home-made "Clean-out-the-cupboard one-dish-wonder" (which, if you're wondering, consisted of onions, barley, carrots, and edamame). She mentioned something that reminded me of a philosophy that has pulled me out of a slump before: I am not the victim. I cannot allow myself to feel victimized. I must be a champion for my relentless happiness; I must be my own heroine.

In the wake of a series of uncontrollable events, this advice must be heeded or I'm bound to spiral into the abyss.

With that newly re-acquired mentality, I'm suddenly feeling very empowered to take on this time of transition. Yes, it's true that I am going to move 3 times in the next 2 months. Yes, it's true that I'm going to be unemployed for some amount of time. It's also true that I am taking my wonderful, loving, self-sacrificing boyfriend to a town neither of us has ever even visited and asking him to make a life and a career there. And suddenly, all of this is seeming very exciting.

Stav and I started dating very young. We were silly and irresponsible and fell fast and hard. Despite all of our giddy "love" feelings, we were aware of our inexperience. There was actually a conversation in which we decided to grow up together. We decided to discuss everything, to keep communication flowing, to feel out the possibilities and to consider the other's opinion on all subjects for the rest of our lives. There are all kinds of things that simply cannot be agreed upon, but in maintaining an open, mind we've thus far been successful in our goal to grow up together.

This move and these stressors are just another lucky break in our relationship. In the planning of this transition, as well as in the ill-timed changes of planning, we have had several break-downs and several leaps and bounds. More of both our certainly headed our way. But really, our ability to always talk things out, to lean on each other, and to go forward and grow up together is prevailing. This is the start of and entirely new phase in our relationship...

We aren't kids any more. We are steering our own lives, separately and together. We can, we must, take this momentum and keep moving forward. And we must be mindful that there are always going to be hiccups and discomfort, and there will be tragedies and deaths, disasters and fights. We have to have thick skin and we can't take things personally. We have to feel our pain and then push through it.

We have to be our own heros, for ourselves and for each other.

We have to be our own champions.

Sav and Stav weather the storm

Sav always liked baking, especially on rainy days. But on this particular day, she was out of white flour, eggs, and butter. So naturally, she put on her Wellies and headed to the store.

Before even leaving the neighborhood, she ran into water. Lots and lots of water.

My first thought was, "Well crap, wonder what I can bake with wheat flour and applesauce, cuz that's about all I've got." And then I saw the other homes in my neighborhood: demolished. More or less, anyway. The main floors are at least 3 feet underwater; imagine what the underground basements look like.

When the sun comes out we'll get some pictures/video of this mess. Until then, enjoy this "iReport" and my mini-testimonial.

Sav loses a student

I got to work this morning and unlocked the door. I sat in the dark for a few minutes as usual before turning on the lights to get ready.

I checked my email, unenthusiastically, and tweeted about needing coffee.

And then my world got rocked. An email from a tutor revealed that one of my students, Malith Wiek, was murdered, needlessly and senselessly, on Tuesday night.

The rest of the day, I have tried to get work done, but I feel shaken, queasy, and I just keep crying. Malith was a very dedicated student, and one I would call a friend; he arrived early, and twice a week he came in just as we opened. We would walk in together and he would stand and talk to me in the dark before I had turned on the lights. He would reflect about his progress in the United States, about the students at the school where he worked, about his mission to be a better American. He had a light in his eyes that can only be described as relief and contentment; after years wandering the desert with the Lost Boys of Sudan, one can barely attempt to imagine his transition to life here.

On Tuesday, a busy workload kept me from my usual chat with Malith when he came in. I walked over to him at the computer and tapped his shoulder to say hello. We exchanged smiles and pleasantries and quickly went back to work.

On Wednesday, I pulled in and saw a black car go past me on the street. The tall, black male driver smiled and waved at me, so I assumed it was my buddy Malith. I waited on the sidewalk briefly, but when he didn't appear I went inside. Expecting Malith any moment in the office, it was unsettling to leave work at 4 having not seen him at all.

On Thursday, today, I found out why. I learned that Malith was shot several times, his car and wallet were taken, and he was left dead in a neighborhood of immigrants dreaming the American Dream.

This is the closest I've ever been to a violent death. It has left me rigid and nauseous, and unwilling to accept that this is reality. And the reality is, people die, and people kill; people do thoughtless, terrible things. The reality is, some people only get to stick around for thirty-something years; and some of them, like Malith, still manage to make an impact. They still manage to leave whisps of sweetness in the air even after they leave. And so in the sadness and shock we feel today, the reality is that we must chose to remember the sweetness or it will be lost amidst the carelessness, and that would be the worst injustice.