Aurora Tour - Photos and Vids from Chena Hot Springs Resort 1 Oct 2024

 

Finding Meaning, Finding Happiness

 I recently watched these shows called "Seeking Sister Wives" and "Seeking Brother Husbands" and I couldn't help juxtapose the two perspectives. The polygamous families portrayed are very spiritual and/or religious about their approach to having more wives. The polyandrous families seem to be more about the women bending the men's wills to their own conditions, and is more about maintaining  relationships while dating new partners instead of bringing new partners into a family. Either way, both is about wanting more, not being content with the "normal" family structure. And then I watched a few episodes of "Coming from America" in which American families, predominantly black, move to Africa to seek better lives.

It just makes me think that everyone is seeking this meaning and happiness, and I'm not alone in being discontented. The typical materials on finding meaning and happiness talk about how it's not about achieving milestones or obtaining things, but more about appreciating what you have. So why are so many people, who all seem like they have plenty grateful for, myself included, still unhappy?

I would say that I am especially grateful for the fact that my life has afforded me the opportunities to try different ways of living (within limits, to be fair) - condo, apartment, beach house, desert suburbs, having a pool, etc. I do believe that there is a level of financial stability and having your home set up just right that makes being happy easier.

Where I'm at now in my life feels like another crossroads is coming. I'm dating this wonderful man in Sydney and the distance has been so hard but every time I talk to him I feel encouraged and fall for him a little more. I just moved to Fort Worth this year and have pretty much decided I hate it. I am getting used to it, to be fair, and the cooler temperatures as we get into fall is making it less insufferable. But while I would love to have Sam move in with me, I’m not sure that Texas is the place for me, let alone for us. Sam seemed to like his time here quite a bit, and I liked Sam taking in the sun in the backyard.

Being very internationally minded, I feel like Sam and I could live anywhere and be happy together. He's definitely a beach guy and I've always felt pulled to the ocean as well, so if we were to live together in the US, it feels like Florida would be the best place. I've felt pulled back to Florida ever since I left, and I guess technically since before I moved there in the first place. But I've also thought about moving to Sydney to be with him there. I loved my vacation in Australia years ago, and am so looking forward to going back there at the end of this year.

It also makes me wonder, though, maybe I'd like to try Italy, Denmark, Sweden, or the UK. Obviously, the UK would be easy in some ways because of the language, but it's also on an island and one of the appeals to me to be in Europe is that you can train to different countries. I've never visited Denmark or Sweden so I guess I should probably visit there before thinking about moving. Costa Rica also is an appealing place, but not sure if the bugs would kill me there. Singapore, Thailand, Japan are also on my list I think, although again, I've never even visited Thailand or Singapore, so probably need to do that. There is just so much I want to do! Maybe staying put and traveling from DFW is a decent idea for now.

Sleep Deprived or Depressed

 I have been in a lull with my work and my recent review was a pretty strong testament to that. My boss was amazingly crafty in delivering an appreciative message while expressing the things I need to work on, and I felt like I had disappointed him and let myself down. I've known that I likely have sleep apnea for quite a while, but in Hawaii having my family reject even sleeping in the same room as me kind of irritated me to the point of deciding I have to deal with it. Well, life has been busy, but I finally decided to pursue a sleep study.

I have this weird anxiety about making phone calls or answering the phone, so it takes me some mental energy to prepare for making phone calls. So this process is a little hard for me. First, I tried calling the sleep center directly, but they said I would need a referral from a primary care doctor - which I don't have. So then I tried Teledoc, thinking that there wasn't anything a doctor would need to examine me physically for, so I hoped I could get the referral that way. I was very frustrated to find out that the doctor took the appointment knowing that's what I wanted but couldn't give me a referral. So I ended up turning it into renewing my asthma inhaler so at least I'd get something out of the fact that I had to pay for the Teladoc appointment. So, I finally researched a good doctor and made an appointment.

I have to say, not only was I seen quickly which is always nice, but the doctor immediately made me feel like she cared and was going to help me get the care I needed. When I explained to her both my sleep issues and my emotional challenges, she connected the two and explained how the lack of sleep puts my body into fight or flight mode and constantly stresses out my body even if I don't feel stressed. It was such a relief to know that maybe there's nothing wrong with me mentally, it's just a health condition which I have no control over. I even brought up being overweight and she said that when you're suffering from lack of sleep then it's much harder to make good eating choices and have the energy to work out. Not only that, but that stress on your body puts you into starvation mode and conserves fat, which could relate to why I've felt that my metabolism is broken. So, it seems like maybe this sleep problem is more than just annoying my family - it's been making my life much harder and hurting my health. I felt so seen and heard.

The doctor did ask me a number of pointed questions relating to mental illness to determine if I was depressed, and she asked directly if I was depressed. I wasn't totally truthful in my answers, knowing that affirmative answers may lead to a depression diagnosis or suspicion or whatever. I didn't want to go down that path because I don't believe it's true of me. But afterwards, it made me wonder why I was so guarded about it. Is it the stigma? Or denial? I mean, I have been in a rut lately and disengaged with my work which I usually love. On paper, my life is pretty damn great, and I'm still discontent. Maybe I am depressed? But I think it's easy to feel like that if I'm tired, too, and it's taken me this long to get to pursuing a sleep study, I think I'll see if that solves some problems and go from there.

I Cry

 It happened again today. I knew it was coming for weeks. My midyear review. Yes, I know it's September. My poor boss was probably dreading it and figuring out how to deliver both complimentary and constructive feedback without making me cry. And to be fair, we did get through that part without the waterworks. I held it together and he delivered my review well. It was when he asked me to give him feedback, which I had been thinking about for a few weeks knowing it was coming. And I knew I would cry before I started, and before I started, I started to cry. My boss is awesome. He asked if I felt safe and I told him I did. I wish I could explain to him, to myself, and preferably, not have to explain.


Times when I cry:
When I don't feel like my opinion or viewpoint is being heard. I don't require agreement, just understanding, and when I don't get that, I tear up.
When I feel seen and deeply appreciated.
When I appreciate others deeply.
When strangers get engaged to marry.
When people get fiery and angry about something that I also am frustrated with.
When someone talks about the end of life.
When literally anyone on TV cries for any reason.
When someone I respect pays me a very flattering compliment.
When I have to give constructive feedback to my manager. Doesn't matter if I feel safe or not with him/her, if I have to give feedback and tear up and ugly cry. Even the thought of giving feedback to my manager makes me cry, so saying that I don't have feedback wouldn't even prevent the tears.
When someone I care about is going through a hard time.
When I think about how I can't get control of my crying.
When my favorite TV show ends. Even re-watching the last episode of The Big Bang Theory makes me cry. Every. Time. Coming to the end of Ted Lasso wrecked me.


Possible explanations from my childhood:

I think I used to have anger management issues - this is junior high to high school era - I would literally hit people and beat them up if I felt I had to when they (emotionally) hurt me or threatened to do so. I got suspended from junior high for beating up a friend because she was going to give the guy I liked a note about how I liked him. I became a baptized Christian that weekend and maybe changed my behavior as a result but I think I may have bottled up my anger. Nevertheless, I still beat up people (boys especially) in high school from time to time - I just never got in trouble for it because they were too embarrassed to admit that a girl had beaten them up. Even in college I hit my boyfriend once when he said something that made me mad. He reacted pretty severely and I realized I couldn't do that to someone I cared about, and I don't think I've done that since, although I do think I've been tempted once or twice. I think usually those feelings turn into tears now.

I also used to be a spoiled brat and maybe crying was how I found to get my way. But that doesn't explain why I cry so profusely when something positive is happening like receiving a compliment.

As a young adult, I remember realizing that I had little to zero empathy for people. I didn't like it and realized it was wrong, and so I worked at it. I worry now, though, that I did too good of a job and I have so much empathy that I can't separate myself from others' strong emotions, good and bad. Take, for example, the issue of gay marriage. I grew up Christian and formed the belief that homosexuality was a choice to be sinful, and therefore was against gay marriage. Then one day I sort of flipped my thinking by rationalizing that I am living in sin by sleeping with a man and not being married, and so if my sin was socially acceptable and legal, maybe gay marriage should also be. Over time, that rationalization was needed less and less and I just started to accept the idea that love is love and that being gay isn't really a choice, etc. I think I've been open to asking about different situations and trying to understand people where they're at, not judge them against the standards I have for myself with my privilege and the opportunities I've been given. I used to think a lot about homeless people and how to help them - my dream was to become filthy rich so that I could afford a home with multiple buildings on the property and security and stuff such that I could pick up homeless people, assess their willingness and ability to get helped, and if I saw fit, bring them into one of my small houses, give them lessons for handling budgets and interview skills and give them proper clothing for the interviews and a ride to the interviews and ideally get them into a place where they have a good job and can get their own place and all that. Then I saw a TED Talk called, "Poverty isn't a lack of character; it's a lack of cash" and my mind was blown. I read his book and then went down this whole rabbit hole to learn about UBI (Universal Basic Income) and supporting Andrew Yang's run for the Presidency because he was pushing a UBI agenda (among other great policies - that guy would have been so good had he had a chance). Somewhere in there I also watched a handful of documentaries about the homeless in California and many of them actually didn't want to be "helped" in the way that I was thinking. Many of the people interviewed preferred their homeless lifestyle. They were rebelling against the cultural norms of success or whatever. They found a community to which they belonged. There was even a story about one guy who had been given an apartment and he continued to sleep in his tent in the apartment with no other furniture because that was his lifestyle. Learning or seeing different points of view like this has shaken the naïve assumptions I had made when I was younger and I think left me more open to understanding people for who they are and want to be. That's a good thing, right?

But then when my colleague turned close friend and confidant was going through a shit storm at work, I felt stressed and upset and I would even cry regularly in my office on his behalf. And then I woke up one day and realized, what the heck? This thing sucks but it isn't happening to me. That helped me be a little more numb to it but also was an alarming realizing that I was internalizing someone else's pain so much that it was physically hurting me. One could not say I was lacking empathy now!


Health factors
I am overweight
I don't get enough restful sleep
I don't work out rigorously often enough
I don't have a great diet
I don't meditate regularly or practice mindfulness

All of those are true, but I don't feel like perfect physical health would change this. I've had this issue when I was much more healthy, even running 3 miles a day. Stress, on the other hand, definitely makes me more prone, but I'm honestly not stressed at all right now and it's still happening.

A Dancer, an Athlete

Another Camp Hollywood is in the books! This was just my second time attending. I lived in California when I attended last year, and was encouraged by my Arizona friends to attend when I visited the Kat's Korner in Phoenix. I enjoyed it so much that I bought the early bird ticket for this year before I even left.

Little did I know that I wouldn’t live in California when the event came around this year. But, I had my full weekend pass and my hotel room with the pool-facing balcony already booked, so I decided it was worth the flight from DFW.

Coming off my UK trip though, I only had one weekend of down time and that was obviously spent doing some productive things like unpacking, laundry, and packing. Being a morning person, these late starts for the dances - 8 or 9 or 9:30 - are past my typical bed time. Crazy people here will dance until 4 or 6 am and later! That's when I get up usually - the time to which I sleep in even! Add to that the intensity of attending 3 or 4 classes during the day, and the event is just absolutely exhausting.

I felt like I was dragging myself through the event all weekend. The feeling of freedom and having no responsibilities or requirements when I arrived Thursday quickly dissipated into pushing myself to attend classes and put myself out there at the social dances. Part way through the weekend, I concluded that I would enjoy the event more if I had a roommate or a "group" to belong to. Being a transplant everywhere I've lived in recent years means I don't have those strong relationships with anyone from my new home, and I wasn't really included in the coordination of my Arizona dance friends. As such, it was more like I ran into people. To her credit, my dance instructor in Texas, Linh, was very kind and thoughtful to add me to her group chat so I could have dinner with them on two occasions. But especially the last night, once I went to my room, I was on my own to get to the  dance, and the bed was so comfy, and I was enjoying listening to my audio book, and I was so tempted to just stay in bed.

Part of my struggle is definitely the lack of fitness. Our style of dancing is intense and a single song, especially one on the faster side, can wipe me out for quite a while. I sweat a lot and so I do things to accommodate that fact - changing shirts between classes or wearing layers so that the sweat doesn't get to where my partners primarily touch. It certainly didn't help that my back was hurting and is probably out of alignment, and my asthma inhaler stopped working. I'm so broken!

There were other times, though, that I, like, didn't want to dance. It's hard to explain the feeling. I logically know I love dance. I had re-discovered that fact years ago. And there were certainly times when I completed a dance with a new partner and felt exhilarated by the interaction - the exchange of ideas and clever leads and follows, smiling and laughing knowingly. Those moments, I know, are a big part of why I love dance. Having new things thrown at me or unfamiliar flairs that I followed without missing a beat is so exciting. But then I'd sit down and be completely out of breath, the sweat would pour out of every inch of my body, and I wouldn't want to dance again. There were also times in which I was dancing with someone and couldn't will my feet to move fast enough to keep up to the beat. I felt like giving up half way through. I didn't want to play anymore. I certainly enjoy watching people dance, and so I don't mind sitting on the sideline for multiple songs in a row. It just felt like every time I was asked to dance, it was hit or miss whether I'd make it through and enjoy it or whether I'd hate it and wish I hadn't even come. I can't make sense of it. Chalan came Friday night and his dancing is quite repetitive, which on the one hand is easy to follow and doesn't kill me, but on the other hand is a bit boring. Other than pretty limited repetition, I can't put my finger on any reason I wouldn't enjoy the dance. It was just waves of laziness, really.

It also varied a bit night to night. Some nights I was more enthusiastic about dancing and other nights it felt like a slog the whole way through. Maybe it was just a lot - the lack of down time I allowed myself. Which begs the question, how best to enjoy it, should I come again next year? Should I skip the classes, as many people do? I'd say no, actually, because I like the classes forcing me to go through so much physical exertion, leading me to dance with multiple people, and spacing out the exhaustion. Is it really just an extrovert thing - I need to have a more dedicated person or group of people to hang with to shake off my lazy indifference? Maybe; I can't see how that would hurt. I mean, I did enjoy getting dressed with the full space of my room and having my balcony to take breaks on, but there's no reason a roommate or group would have to take those elements away consistently. Largely, I think I would enjoy it more if I was more in shape and felt rested when I slept. I suspect that whatever causes my snoring to be intolerable is also causing the length of my sleep to be less restful than a sleep of that length should be. Therefore, I either need more sleep (hence skipping classes) or better quality sleep.

Several weeks ago at dance troupe practice, Linh had given us a little pep talk about how we were dancers and should therefore train, stretch and practice like dancers, like athletes. I was a little inspired by her talk, and certainly accepted it fully as truth. But while I started acting on the advice, I didn't continue it consistently. I do feel still agree, though, I need to treat myself like an athlete, take care of my body and health consistently and with more than just a decent diet. There is a big question mark as to how to get myself to do this more / better. Getting more sleep and being rested may be the key so I will start with that at the least while pushing myself to do something in the mean time.

Sabbatical: Unsatiated

I poured so much of myself into the GKN Florida greenfield site, and I fully bought into the vision my GM painted for all of us. What's more, I was looked at as the informal leader of the leadership team - I was the one the GM looked to for feedback on how hard to push or when to lighten up, AND I was the one the other leaders, all of them with many more years of total experience than me and certainly more years in management than me, given this was my first formal management job. It felt like a David and Goliath story and I truly believed that having right on our side, the amazingly intangible but very real thing we were building there, had to win in the end. It just had to! It was in October that I got my first confirmation of what we all mostly privately worried about - that the plant would have to be shut down and all of its wonderful team members laid off, myself included. I was going to be given a life line, and I knew, as my GM had pointed out in my interview for the job initially, I would always land on my feet. My GM wisely let me know the official plans just before Thanksgiving knowing I would need time to process it. Yet it didn't seem to take the sting off when we actually announced it to the leadership team. I held it together when we brought it to the broader team, but just barely.

The life line I was given was an opportunity to go to a site near San Diego. I was familiar with some of the players already and the prospect of living in San Diego sounded great with one caveat, and I made it known early on - it would be very expensive and I would want to be adequately compensated for the change in living expenses. While the development of the role and offer were slow going, I also happened to have made the personal decision to sell the house I had been renting out in Arizona. So at the time that I was meant to be transitioning to a role in California, I secured over $100,000 in my checking account from the proceeds of the sale. This, along with proceeds from selling my Florida house, would certainly be a healthy down payment for a house in San Diego. But the offer development dragged on, and the clock was ticking before I'd be laid off with the plant closure.

As that was happening, I considered my alternatives. I applied to a handful of jobs in the area, but there weren't many - that was the awesome thing about our site was that it was bringing good jobs to an area that didn't really have them. So much for that! The other thought I had was, honestly, I was so tired, and with six figures in my bank account, living where the cost of living is quite low, I could easily coast without a job for over a year, probably 18 months to 2 years. So I started to seriously consider taking a year off which would still give me time to find a job before I ran out of funds. I would decompress and enjoy days at the beach. I would focus more on my health. We would visit Disney World more. We would travel. It sounded so good and was so within reach.

Having leverage - like 2 years worth of expenses in my back account - made it easy to turn down the initial offer that came from California. It was so far from the number I had in my head that it didn't feel worth negotiating because meeting in the middle would not suffice. I joke that my response was the "No heard round the world," because I was very quickly getting calls from multiple higher ups including the VP as to why I turned down the offer. My response to the question, "Don't you need a job?" Was, no, I don't. I have money to last me two years here and a sabbatical sounded really nice. If they couldn't make it worth my while, then I wouldn't move. 

One of the things on my Life List was to take a cruise through the Panama Canal, but that is challenging because it requires a lot of time and money and most people in their working years don't have that kind of time and money. But here I was having seemingly all the time in the world and plenty of money. So I booked the cruise, not knowing if it would be the start of my sabbatical or if GKN would come through with an acceptable offer for me to take, but my start date would have to wait. I needed at least this.

A talk with my Dad also scared me from the idea of a sabbatical. He pointed out that  companies often prefer to hire people who are currently working and being laid off from my last job a year ago wouldn't look too good. In the end, GKN did get me an acceptable offer, and I set my start date to be after I returned from the cruise. We thoroughly enjoyed three days in Miami followed by 16 days on the cruise ship, visiting beaches and a handful of countries in Central and South America as well as multiple stops in Mexico. Most mornings I would read and enjoy quiet time on the balcony or go for a run on the top deck, and then the boy would wake up and we'd hit the buffet. We dined at the buffet a lot - it was so convenient to be able to pick and choose since I'm a picky eater and it gave us the opportunity to try lots of different  things. We killed it at trivia, we drank, we saw wildlife and went on fun excursions. It was both a peaceful vacation and had a little bit of fun and adventure. I could do that for another 16 days, easily. He was not so keen on additional long cruises, getting a little tired of it towards the end.

A week later, we were road tripping across the country to bring our necessities, our dog and our snake to California. Once again, I poured myself into my work. At least until they put a pyscho boss over me - she was ultimately the reason I quickly left. We then moved to Palmdale and I didn't mind tackling stuff at the Skunk Works. And then another psycho boss was put over me and I got a life line again, which resulted in me moving to Texas.

At this point, the work I do doesn't feel like it makes as much of a difference. I hold my time in Florida as the absolute best part of my career and shutting that site down was the absolute worst thing. I know I'm still fortunate to always land on my feet, and I try to remain grateful for that. But I'm so disillusioned by the multitudes of bad bosses and what they do to their organizations and how helpless I am to change it, even as much as I am hopeful and try to fight the good fight.

The timing of the sabbatical when I first seriously considered it ended up being bad - it was just at the start of the COVID pandemic and so my plans to travel and do all those fun things would have been severely hampered - so it was fortuitous that between the fear my Dad put in me and the offer coming up to my expectations, I opted to continue working. But now that I'm once again financially stable and feeling a bit burnt out or in a rut at work, the idea of that sabbatical keeps cropping up. I truly probably needed it then, and not doing it weighs heavily on me. Yet, I'm not quite in the same situation financially - I don't have as much runway. I've also been spending a bit lavishly on vacations, almost like I'm rewarding myself with mini sabbaticals, but it's not enough.

I just got back from the UK and thought that would leave me refreshed. But the truth is, I sat there at work a few days back and just didn't want to work anymore, not that day, not the next day, not ever again. It's so not like me. Early in my career, I liked every new job better than the last even though I had thought the last one was the best job ever. That stopped being the case after Florida, and it feels like I've flatlined or gone downhill even. That little UK vacation was not enough. I need to rejuvenate my soul somehow. It begs the question - what would be enough? Do I need the full 2 weeks I used to take? Do I need a month? Perhaps it was less the length of time but more of the activity. I had originally envisioned treating myself to a relaxing place in Santorini, Greece for my 40th birthday. But the prospect of sharing a vacation with Sam was enough to persuade me to do something other than Greece which he refused to do, and I was able to convince myself logically that the UK was a good replacement because I'd be able to knock off a bunch from my Life List. But that view and that rejuvenating doing nothingness was missed, I suppose. In hindsight, while Sam was visiting his parents in Turkey, I probably could have given myself a few days in Greece. But timing was challenging as it was, so maybe not.

Whatever it is, I know I need something more. I have this unsatiated desire to shut off. It was so refreshing when I got to my hotel room yesterday here in LA. I realized I didn't have to go anywhere, didn't have to talk to anyone, didn't have to do anything. At home, I feel guilty if I'm not doing something productive, and there's always something to do. The house needs something, or the dishes need to be put away, or I should exercise. Here, in those moments, I was truly my own person, and it felt amazing. I think that's what I love most about cruises - they take care of just about everything for you, so you have no responsibilities (except keeping to a schedule for excursions and meals and the like - but if you don't do those, then who cares?). I'm hoping to take a decently long trip to Australia to visit Sam and do some new things and some revisits. The question is - will Sam tolerate me for an extended chill vacay with him? Haha, to be continued!

A (Not So) Touching Story

I've barely returned from my 10 day vacation in the UK with my Sam from Sydney, and I'm already on another personal travel trip. To be fair, I planned to attend Camp Hollywood a year ago when I attended for the first time and loved it so much. Of course, I didn't know I'd be moving to Texas and that a trip to LA would involve a plane ticket. But after moving, I knew it was still worth it to come. The first class tickets weren't that much more, so I indulged there as well.

But this is not about a swing dance conference. This is the first time I've had enough time to breathe and think to be able to reflect and jot down my thoughts on how the relationship with Sam and I progressed on our UK trip.

The trip had been planned even before his visit in July was conceived, but we both were mutually excited about the prospect of spending so much time together after being apart for a long while. Planning the trip was easy - it progressed and kind of developed over time - but we were both very agreeable to each other's ideas and suggestions. We agreed on not "overplanning" it by stuffing it with non-stop plans every day. We had one or two days that would be fully consumed, but lots of other days with one or two small activities planned and options for down time or separate adventures. It was also super sweet that he recommended something he knew I'd be in to - seeing a show on the West End - which wasn't on my Life List but probably should have been.

Some things we kept open; like, I wasn't sure if we would want to rent a car in Inverness to get us to our hotel in Loch Ness or if we'd Uber and then have a chill time at the hotel. Sam arrived at the Inverness airport before me, so while I was at Heathrow waiting to board, I had him investigate what the cost of an Uber would be and compared it to renting. We decided to rent, and it turned out to be a great decision because we spent a lot of our time in Scotland driving around, taking in the views of the Highlands and the Loch Ness. And when I say we were driving, I mean, I had him drive initially and then I never felt comfortable taking over so he did all the driving. He didn't seem to mind, though, he was comfortable on the left side of the road and the right side of the car, and I loved being chauffered around and holding his hand or thigh while taking in the landscapes.

Scotland was my favorite part of the trip, I think partially because I felt so connected with him, both physically with just that little bit of touch, and personally

because I got to see what excited him as we adventured around. More and more I think weather really impacts my mood, and the weather was just absolutely splendid while we were in Scotland, whereas when we got to London, we were dragging our suitcases for blocks in the middle of the hottest day of the year for them and that heat only subsided slightly the rest of the trip. There is also something to be said about the ease of being driven around versus lugging our stuff and cramming into trains and walking here and there. I feel like I was more down for that in my past, but doing it in London just wasn't enjoyable for me. To his credit, Sam did all the literal heavy lifting when it came to lugging my suitcase up the stairs or carrying it over rocky terrain in Scotland. Such a gentleman and a stud!

Even with the connection we did have in Scotland, I tried communicating to him that I wanted more cuddles and physical affection. He promised he'd try, but I didn't really see much improvement the following days. When we got to London it was worse, mostly because we were out in public more often and he shies away from PDA. And that's fine, I mean not ideal if I want more but relationships are about compromise, but the problem was in private he always seemed to have an excuse not to touch me. Obviously not ALWAYS, I'm exaggerating a little, but more often than not it felt like. When I wanted to cuddle at the end of the day, he'd have to make tea and sit up and drink that. He'd turn on the TV but sit in a chair and he'd say he'll fall asleep if he gets in bed, but we didn't have a couch to cuddle on.

To make matters worse, he would make jokes about not touching me or he'd touch me in a way I didn't like and then say, "But I like physical affection," which I pointed out was kind of like rubbing it in that he wasn't giving me the physical affection I wanted. I let him know that was hurtful and asked him not to make jokes about touching affectionately, and he apologized and agreed. I do like how he is understanding and caring, and that he tries to resolve things with communication. I think part of the issue is that it sometimes felt like he wasn't understanding what I was trying to say, but not because he didn't want to. Just something for us to work on.

It was a long vacation and that much time with anyone will test a relationship, let alone one in which its still fairly new and we don't spend a lot of time together on the regular. So towards the end of the trip, it felt like we both needed some space from each other, and we got it by going to do different things on a couple days. One of the days, he went to meet a friend who lives in the area, and I went to see the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace to ensure I thoroughly knocked it off my Life List - and then I went on a cheeky first date with a Brit I had been talking to named Peter. Ha, quick back story on that one - he lived in Tulsa, OK previously, I guess he had put the DFW area in his location while he was visiting a friend and that was when he had "liked" me on the app, but had actually been living in London for the past year or so. But, he was eager to return to the states, and indeed just got a job and moved back to Tulsa this past week. Not too far from me, but still not local. What's with these foreigners? Anyways, being a first date and not having much privacy, it ended with a small peck kiss, but it did help me reclaim a little bit of what I want from guys in general. (I should mention, Sam has explicitly said he would understand if I see people in between seeing him because he knows how much physical attention I want…)

In the end, I concluded that, while Sam could do better to try to meet me more in the middle with cuddle time, we did have limited opportunities because we wanted to maximize our time in London to an extent. I recalled that during his visit to my house in July, he was much more keen to cuddle up with me on the couch, and even when we went to Austin, we had a couch in the room so we could sit there while he drank his tea and we watched TV. Maybe I just need to make sure I book hotels with couches going forward. We have a short LA trip coming up which will hopefully give us some opportunity to cuddle, but I'm most looking forward to my yet-to-be-booked Sydney visit later this year, because that, I think, will be more like his visit to Texas in which we can chill and not be out and about so much. I still adore him so much, and that's why it makes it painful when I don't get enough of him.