yesterday, in a mere attempt to satisfy my cravings, i left work at my public relations firm to frantically drive all around cary in pursuit of locating the makings for the perfect chocolate chip pancakes. seven dollars and forty-four cents later, with semi-sweet milk chocolate chips, bisquick and a gallon of skim milk in tote, i was on my way home to become ms. emeril. as i walked to my faithless explorer, i had a quick revelation to check the box. perhaps i was lacking an ingredient. heaven forbid, should i have this revelation BEFORE i left the grocery store -- but regardless, i checked the box.
milk. check.
water. check.
sugar. check.
eggs. ummmm...
standing in the parking lot of the grocery, wallet and groceries in hand, i literally debated going back in the store to pick up eggs. knowing that i can only buy eggs in six or a dozen (and needing only two), i could not justify walking back in the store to purchase a necessary item for my dinner. instead of spending thirty eight cent and five minutes on retracing my steps, i voluntarily (and yet, with a hint of frustration) walked to my car, unlocked the doors and drove home as if this mishap never took place.
why didn't i just go buy the eggs?
was it for the mere fact that i knew i would never use the remaining four? was it my uncanny ability to be cheap in moments of necessity, but forget all the rules when i fall in love with a new pair of shoes that by no means i can afford? or perhaps, was it my lack of wilingness to return to the same place i just left as if to announce "i am a moron -- i forgot the eggs!"
as i ventured home to cook my chocolate chip eggless pancakes, i immediately discover ... i am no emeril. as batter is flung all over the counter because no need for one to use measuring cups, i struggle at getting the batter at the exact consistency for perfect pancakes. then despite my cheap behavior when it comes to purchasing appliances over accessories, my poor-excuse of a "stickfree" frying pan has to suffice as my medium temperatured griddle. when the pam spray turns brown because the pan is too hot, i begin to think "maybe this isn't going to work."
reluctantly, my pursuit for the perfect pancake continues. in the back of my head i hear my mom say, "wait until the pancake is bubbly ... then, quickly flip it." as i pour the batter into the brown sprayed pam, the once spoon-sized pancake becomes a massive glob on the pan. to make matters even worse, there are so many chocolate chips within this one pancake that bubbles do not have any room to form. and sadly, still yet, my only spatula is one that consists of holes.
tell me emeril -- how do you flip a batter-filled mass when your appliance is full of holes?
determined to no end, i continue my pancake-craze until three lobsided and twisted pancakes are safely on a plate. by then, i decide to call it quits. i place saranwrap over the remaining batter and chuck it in the fridge. disappointed and frustrated with my lack of ability to make the perfect pancake, i buttered my three sad friends, drenched them with syrup and ate their sorrows away.
but in the end, i learned this. no matter how much i tried to create the perfect pancake, there was always room for imperfection. yet through their imperfections, i discovered their liking. when i didn't have any eggs, i felt that i had already failed my mission. truth is, pancakes taste the exact same with or without eggs. and if i would have had eggs, i wouldn't have been able to save the remaining batter and eat it with a spoon as i blog right now. and while i may try five thousand times or five times to create the perfect, round, bubbly pancake ... i am no master. but my pancakes are pancakes regardless of their perfection or their lack of it. in the end ... no matter how imperfect, dishelved or disfunctional your pancake may be ... its still taste just the way you imagined it.
for some reason, i have an intuition that someone may need to hear this next part. and perhaps that someone is none other than myself. but what i have learned from my terrible pancake experience (and thus far, these past few months in life) is that youre never going to reach perfection. whether you are striving for an impossible goal or a level of perfection that you set for yourself, you are always going to fall short of your victory line. and the reason is simple: it's because we change and we adapt, but we forget to change and adapt our goals.
about a month ago, i was accepted to attend an internship program in new york city. "the job of my dreams." i thought i would be on the next flight to nyc, but after sitting and thinking about it over and over -- i decided to let the program go. "how could you have given up on your dream?" everyone said, and i first i thought maybe i had. but in reality, over the course of my life and these few short months where everything has changed, i have changed. i have established myself in a committed relationship, decided to relocate to a different city and begun a career that i never knew existed. but all the while i changed, i thought my dream had stayed the same. while i envisoned living my dream job, i forgot to notice my reality. and i had forgotten that one day long ago, i dreamed of being loved and doing something that i loved. and that's when i realized i was not going to follow a dream when i was already living one.
by no means, is my life perfect. but all too often do i try to make it. i carry a calendar around in sheer desperation of scheduling everything just right and think that i plan life to the T. but the moment that something rocks my world, i think i am a failure. yet, like my pancakes -- with or without eggs, lobsided or round -- we're always going to have something that makes us unique. theres always going to be something that we're good at, something that we're not, and something that we're willing to learn. but just because we aren't perfect, doesn't mean that we shouldn't ever try.
and just because we try and it's not perfect ... doesn't mean we have failed.
because pancake batter tastes great, no matter how it's cooked or even if it's cooked at all.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
four seasons
strappy sandals begin their prowl. tanktops peak out from behind their once-worn collared shirts. sunglasses become a necessity, not an accessory. rainbows once again become the staple. windows roll down to let the springtime breeze in as the heat fades away from within. dogwoods bloom and tulips ripen to the freshest shade.
springtime is in the air.
without a doubt, spring is my favorite season. i love the scent of blooming flowers and the sight of budding trees almost more than i do admiring my freshly manicured toes peaking out from my trendy new shoes. it is a season of happiness, where the world awakens from the dead as if to say "everything is going to be better this time around." it is a season of renewal, where that which once faded away begins again with glee.
as i sit this pre-spring afternoon in mcalisters deli, outside the sun is shining and the trees are waking. inside, the guests sit and talk with one another -- some business professionals, others just friends making casual conversation. young moms are doing their daily rountine, toting around young children while their older ones are still being schooled. yet, everyone seems happy. in line, people are laughing. beside me, an older man dons his new cell phone to his equally aged counterparts. as the symphony blares through his ringtone, he beams as he informs them the notion of a ringtone no longer being a simple ring. as if he is the inventor of the modified ringtone himself, he prides in his "new" technology. and directly across from me, watching my every move, sit alex and allison -- two ever-so-precious blonde hair, blue eyes twins. as they sit across from one another eating their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sipping their hi-c, they continue to look over here and smile. "helloooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" they call out as if i am their long-lost friend. when i respond, their faces light up.
a stranger has just become a friend.
casually, we continue to make funny gestures and simple conversation throughout their entire lunch. as i sit and type, i watch their little faces discover their world around them. new to life still, you can tell they are taking everything in as if they are invincible and the world is perfect. another stranger walks by, and little alex stares up at him with his big blue eyes and turns his head with every step of the man. then catching eye contact with his sister, they both begin to chuckle.
four years old and three feet small, these two children encompass everything i wish i could still be. innocent, where everything you do it is not your fault. lovable, where the only thing anyone can do is look at you and smile. childish, where eye contact with another makes you laugh and smile. precious, where imperfections become your perfection. fragile, where your heart can be broken and mended within a split second. unaware, where everything you see and do is completely new. impressionable, where your mind is still formulating its capacity. simple, where being in the moment is the only moment you know exists.
instead, i sit here this afternoon at the crossroads of my life. within nine short weeks, i will close the life that i have only known to begin one that i have never even tasted. like a young adult caught up in love, confused by society and tainted by the world, my mind battles constantly the decisions soon to come. instead of living in the moment, rising with the morning sun and waking with the day, i live wondering whether the next step is really the best one to take. two steps forward seems to lead to four steps backward. a decision made crushes another dream. a dream followed pierces reality.
at what point do we stop living for the life we want to live in the moment we have?
for alex and allison, looking up at the things unknown brought laughter to their lives. for me, looking up at the things unknown brings fear, anxiety and worry. yet like seasons, all things will come together. trees bloom, leaves fall, seeds are planted, trees root. in the now, the life i once knew has fallen away in shades of orange, red and yellow and been buried underneath the tall oak trees. yet, as i look outside, small buds begin to emerge, the daffodils begin to bloom and life again, goes on.
as alex and allison jump down from their booster seats and grab their mom's hand, they both look back over at me and say good-bye. "see you next time," alex says as he turns his head and waves good-bye. again, their eyes catch one another's and they laugh as they walk away.
one day, they too will grow-up and find this world unbearable. they will lose the simpleness and fragileness they once obtained, to find themselves searching for answers amongst their tainted, impressionable lives. my hope for them is but one simple wish: that they too, would look to the seasons and see the sight of the blooming trees.
as their life begins ... so i wait on mine to blossom.
springtime is in the air.
without a doubt, spring is my favorite season. i love the scent of blooming flowers and the sight of budding trees almost more than i do admiring my freshly manicured toes peaking out from my trendy new shoes. it is a season of happiness, where the world awakens from the dead as if to say "everything is going to be better this time around." it is a season of renewal, where that which once faded away begins again with glee.
as i sit this pre-spring afternoon in mcalisters deli, outside the sun is shining and the trees are waking. inside, the guests sit and talk with one another -- some business professionals, others just friends making casual conversation. young moms are doing their daily rountine, toting around young children while their older ones are still being schooled. yet, everyone seems happy. in line, people are laughing. beside me, an older man dons his new cell phone to his equally aged counterparts. as the symphony blares through his ringtone, he beams as he informs them the notion of a ringtone no longer being a simple ring. as if he is the inventor of the modified ringtone himself, he prides in his "new" technology. and directly across from me, watching my every move, sit alex and allison -- two ever-so-precious blonde hair, blue eyes twins. as they sit across from one another eating their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sipping their hi-c, they continue to look over here and smile. "helloooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" they call out as if i am their long-lost friend. when i respond, their faces light up.
a stranger has just become a friend.
casually, we continue to make funny gestures and simple conversation throughout their entire lunch. as i sit and type, i watch their little faces discover their world around them. new to life still, you can tell they are taking everything in as if they are invincible and the world is perfect. another stranger walks by, and little alex stares up at him with his big blue eyes and turns his head with every step of the man. then catching eye contact with his sister, they both begin to chuckle.
four years old and three feet small, these two children encompass everything i wish i could still be. innocent, where everything you do it is not your fault. lovable, where the only thing anyone can do is look at you and smile. childish, where eye contact with another makes you laugh and smile. precious, where imperfections become your perfection. fragile, where your heart can be broken and mended within a split second. unaware, where everything you see and do is completely new. impressionable, where your mind is still formulating its capacity. simple, where being in the moment is the only moment you know exists.
instead, i sit here this afternoon at the crossroads of my life. within nine short weeks, i will close the life that i have only known to begin one that i have never even tasted. like a young adult caught up in love, confused by society and tainted by the world, my mind battles constantly the decisions soon to come. instead of living in the moment, rising with the morning sun and waking with the day, i live wondering whether the next step is really the best one to take. two steps forward seems to lead to four steps backward. a decision made crushes another dream. a dream followed pierces reality.
at what point do we stop living for the life we want to live in the moment we have?
for alex and allison, looking up at the things unknown brought laughter to their lives. for me, looking up at the things unknown brings fear, anxiety and worry. yet like seasons, all things will come together. trees bloom, leaves fall, seeds are planted, trees root. in the now, the life i once knew has fallen away in shades of orange, red and yellow and been buried underneath the tall oak trees. yet, as i look outside, small buds begin to emerge, the daffodils begin to bloom and life again, goes on.
as alex and allison jump down from their booster seats and grab their mom's hand, they both look back over at me and say good-bye. "see you next time," alex says as he turns his head and waves good-bye. again, their eyes catch one another's and they laugh as they walk away.
one day, they too will grow-up and find this world unbearable. they will lose the simpleness and fragileness they once obtained, to find themselves searching for answers amongst their tainted, impressionable lives. my hope for them is but one simple wish: that they too, would look to the seasons and see the sight of the blooming trees.
as their life begins ... so i wait on mine to blossom.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
growing up ... but not really
my first semester at nc state, i foolishly enrolled in seventeen hours. for some unknown reason, no one ever warned me that i would have seven more semesters to play around with scheduling ... i didn't HAVE to get all those classes in the FIRST semester. i vividly remember walking all over campus with fifteen minutes in between each lecture. from one end of the campus to the other end -- from hillsbourough street to western blvd -- my high-heeled, dressed-to-the-t self (this was freshman year, remember) walked everywhere. map and schedule always in hand of course.
but it wasn't so bad. in this one experimental year, i learned what type of clouds cause thunderstorms (weather and climate), the choreography of a bee's dance (bees and beekeeping) ... and even the street addresss where my chancellor resided (first year college seminar). but somehow, amid all these bs classes, i had homework. granted, even though i was taking pre-calculus for the third year in a row (thanks for re-naming it a thousand times, morons!), i was worn out come may.
now, it's post-january and i'm still worn out. seven semesters have long come and gone, and my list of random classes has grown extensively. the inevitable job searching process has begun and with only thirteen more weeks to go -- classes just seem to be "getting in my way." what the average senior would call senioritis -- i can only consider freshmen - repeat.
cue renaissance to waterloo.
cue principles of sociology.
cue insects and people.
all three for freshmen.
all three from the bottom of the catalog todem-pole.
all three with my name on the roster.
while i may have been foolish in the beginning to enroll in seventeen hours, i unintentionally became a genius at the end. luckily for me, i had three general education classes left to take -- and in order to get the "most out of my education," i happily enrolled in these.
history starts off my day, and by about the 100th time my teacher says "well, i can't exactly say because i wasn't alive then..." i begin to tune him out. really profesor? you mean to tell me you weren't alive during the 12th century? then why on earth did i sign-up for this class!
false advertisement.
out came sodoku. (for those of you who haven't caught on to this phenomenon, it's a japanese number game that doesn't require ANY math. just patience and skill. numbers and no math -- i'm so there!)
next, it's back to my world of the three famous halls -- cadwell, tompkins and winston. my home away from home -- where i have spent my past three and a half years, "learning." this time around, it's for sociology, aka -- the most comon sense stuff you'll ever be tested on ... in ... your ... life.
i'm twenty-one years old, and today my teacher threatened our collegiate class with a pop quiz because no one would give her the definition of culture.
are you kidding me?
(as for me, i don't speak in classes)
bring on the pop quiz teach!
sodoku, take two.
finally, it's time for insects and people -- the last class of the day, and the weirdest by far. today, after my professor led a demonstration on moths (explaining their tongues or something weird), he told us that this particular moth had not learned how to fly yet, or at least not very well.
the moth was perched on his finger and she just kept flapping her wings up and down. nearly seconds later, she miraculously learned how to fly and took off around the classroom full of 140 students. up and down the stadium seating she buzzed for the next five minutes. girls were screaming, boys were flapping their baseball caps in the air trying to be heros and save the day and others were taking cover under notebooks, jackets and bags.
all the while my professor laughed.
i have to admit, while i wasn't screaming, i sure wasn't excited that my pro. was enjoying this display of moth vs. human either. and even though the moth was causing a stir in a classroom full of "intellectual young adults," my professor attempted to continue lecturing.
sorry man, but if a moth is coming toward my head full force, i don't care how many legs a hissing cockroach has.
(by the way, he passed those around too.)
sodoku (with a slight fear that roaches and moths were going to crawl and land on me) ... take three.
sometimes, we make great decisions. we attend the weird lectures, participate in the crazy demonstrations and take the multiple choice tests. but in the end, it's all for an easy A. however, during this freshmen-repeat, i'm quickly learning this: other times, we make crazy decisions. we sign up for classes thinking they'll be a breeze (and while they still may be) ... they scare us half-to death.
but hey -- at least now before i kill your roach, i'll identify it.
but it wasn't so bad. in this one experimental year, i learned what type of clouds cause thunderstorms (weather and climate), the choreography of a bee's dance (bees and beekeeping) ... and even the street addresss where my chancellor resided (first year college seminar). but somehow, amid all these bs classes, i had homework. granted, even though i was taking pre-calculus for the third year in a row (thanks for re-naming it a thousand times, morons!), i was worn out come may.
now, it's post-january and i'm still worn out. seven semesters have long come and gone, and my list of random classes has grown extensively. the inevitable job searching process has begun and with only thirteen more weeks to go -- classes just seem to be "getting in my way." what the average senior would call senioritis -- i can only consider freshmen - repeat.
cue renaissance to waterloo.
cue principles of sociology.
cue insects and people.
all three for freshmen.
all three from the bottom of the catalog todem-pole.
all three with my name on the roster.
while i may have been foolish in the beginning to enroll in seventeen hours, i unintentionally became a genius at the end. luckily for me, i had three general education classes left to take -- and in order to get the "most out of my education," i happily enrolled in these.
history starts off my day, and by about the 100th time my teacher says "well, i can't exactly say because i wasn't alive then..." i begin to tune him out. really profesor? you mean to tell me you weren't alive during the 12th century? then why on earth did i sign-up for this class!
false advertisement.
out came sodoku. (for those of you who haven't caught on to this phenomenon, it's a japanese number game that doesn't require ANY math. just patience and skill. numbers and no math -- i'm so there!)
next, it's back to my world of the three famous halls -- cadwell, tompkins and winston. my home away from home -- where i have spent my past three and a half years, "learning." this time around, it's for sociology, aka -- the most comon sense stuff you'll ever be tested on ... in ... your ... life.
i'm twenty-one years old, and today my teacher threatened our collegiate class with a pop quiz because no one would give her the definition of culture.
are you kidding me?
(as for me, i don't speak in classes)
bring on the pop quiz teach!
sodoku, take two.
finally, it's time for insects and people -- the last class of the day, and the weirdest by far. today, after my professor led a demonstration on moths (explaining their tongues or something weird), he told us that this particular moth had not learned how to fly yet, or at least not very well.
the moth was perched on his finger and she just kept flapping her wings up and down. nearly seconds later, she miraculously learned how to fly and took off around the classroom full of 140 students. up and down the stadium seating she buzzed for the next five minutes. girls were screaming, boys were flapping their baseball caps in the air trying to be heros and save the day and others were taking cover under notebooks, jackets and bags.
all the while my professor laughed.
i have to admit, while i wasn't screaming, i sure wasn't excited that my pro. was enjoying this display of moth vs. human either. and even though the moth was causing a stir in a classroom full of "intellectual young adults," my professor attempted to continue lecturing.
sorry man, but if a moth is coming toward my head full force, i don't care how many legs a hissing cockroach has.
(by the way, he passed those around too.)
sodoku (with a slight fear that roaches and moths were going to crawl and land on me) ... take three.
sometimes, we make great decisions. we attend the weird lectures, participate in the crazy demonstrations and take the multiple choice tests. but in the end, it's all for an easy A. however, during this freshmen-repeat, i'm quickly learning this: other times, we make crazy decisions. we sign up for classes thinking they'll be a breeze (and while they still may be) ... they scare us half-to death.
but hey -- at least now before i kill your roach, i'll identify it.
Monday, January 23, 2006
when it all goes incredibly wrong
six days ago, i began what i had hoped to be another fabulous internship.
thirty minutes ago, i officially quit.
if there's one thing i've learned in life it's this ... things aren't always what they seem to be. my expectations for working at a classy, up-beat and fashion-centered magazine this spring were simple. i wanted exposure, i craved technique. instead, on the very first day i became the voicemail system and the official hands between the postman and the mail. call it an unpaid experience all you want, i call it a trap.
my thoughts on an internship are basic. students want to gain experience in their field to better equip themselves for the real world. if we didn't, we would simply take bees and beekeeping or underwater basketweaving instead. if my vision of real world is at all muddy when i imagine actually getting paid for secretarioral services, then i pray for the first person who interviews me come springtime. all too often, employers take advantage of students who are looking for something to do, but all too often do they forget our academic capability tied tightly with street smarts.
forgive me for actually wanting to do something of greater self-worth than licking 100 envelopes and alphabetizing your ad index, but some of us are just dedicated. we accept challenges, thrive on deadlines and work best under pressure.
i had a friend tell me once, "it's not that you work better when you procrastinate, you just have never not procrastinated." for a minute, i thought this person was the next einstein, how brillant of a revelation. but as i was sitting at my desk last week at this God-forsaken office, i glanced up at the clock to realize only 30 minutes of my makeshift hell had elapsed.
and everything i needed to do was complete.
procrastination bypassed.
boredom surpassed.
ok, so maybe he wasn't the next einstein...
but i wasn't about to be the next free-secretary either.
anyone need an intern?
thirty minutes ago, i officially quit.
if there's one thing i've learned in life it's this ... things aren't always what they seem to be. my expectations for working at a classy, up-beat and fashion-centered magazine this spring were simple. i wanted exposure, i craved technique. instead, on the very first day i became the voicemail system and the official hands between the postman and the mail. call it an unpaid experience all you want, i call it a trap.
my thoughts on an internship are basic. students want to gain experience in their field to better equip themselves for the real world. if we didn't, we would simply take bees and beekeeping or underwater basketweaving instead. if my vision of real world is at all muddy when i imagine actually getting paid for secretarioral services, then i pray for the first person who interviews me come springtime. all too often, employers take advantage of students who are looking for something to do, but all too often do they forget our academic capability tied tightly with street smarts.
forgive me for actually wanting to do something of greater self-worth than licking 100 envelopes and alphabetizing your ad index, but some of us are just dedicated. we accept challenges, thrive on deadlines and work best under pressure.
i had a friend tell me once, "it's not that you work better when you procrastinate, you just have never not procrastinated." for a minute, i thought this person was the next einstein, how brillant of a revelation. but as i was sitting at my desk last week at this God-forsaken office, i glanced up at the clock to realize only 30 minutes of my makeshift hell had elapsed.
and everything i needed to do was complete.
procrastination bypassed.
boredom surpassed.
ok, so maybe he wasn't the next einstein...
but i wasn't about to be the next free-secretary either.
anyone need an intern?
Thursday, January 12, 2006
who am i?
there's a sensitive subject that the entire united states population can relate to and yet no one is seemingly comfortable with. i haven't tackled it thus far in my writings because it's something that i am personally bothered by more and more each day. what i am referring to is racism, a subject than when these six letters drop, immediately the gloves go up and nostrils flare. but, do we really understand the subject or are we constantly defending something many of us strongly claim isn't even an issue?
in the light of the movie crash, a movie i cannot praise with words but will forever wish for audiences to view ... my life seems to have taken its own crash. forgive me for being blunt today, forgive me for getting ready to bare a subject matter that i have seemingly concealed for quite sometime. my hope is after reading today's writing, that you will either reconsider some of your views or support me on mine. perchance you can't level with me, no hard feelings if i never hear from you again.
for as long as i can remember, literally, i was the little girl who wasn't afraid to play with or associate with people of different races than myself. obviously, being white and growing up in the early 80s, i wasn't faced with the segregation issues of my grandparents or parents, but that doesn't mean i didn't face them in some respect throughout my childhood. though my life wasn't the extravagance of a civil rights section in a history book, i grew up in the middle of a highly prejudice extended family. i was taught from my parents that all people were to be loved, but my extended family demonstrated differently. yet, race to me always just seemed to be another box you check, like the infamous "single" one. when i was younger, my black friends were simply that - friends. we hung out, we went out ... we danced to music, we shopped together. nothing was ever seemingly different, nothing ever needed explanation.
unfortunately, everything changes sooner or later.
as i put away childish things, i picked up on worldy ideals. i learned that racism was a heavy issue in a country that likes to classify themselves as "the melting pot," a place for all peoples. i quickly saw first hand how a small unborn bi-racial baby could be the ultimate division of a strong family foundation. and while pop culture and celebrities started to embrace the notion of inter-racial couples and equality amongst racial divisions, the average person still pounded his/her beliefs with a closed mind. today, as many of you know but all too many of you don't, i have been spending ample time with a guy who is black. i like to refer to him as "tall, dark and handsome" which he encompasses all three so well. he's gonna either kill me or love me when he reads this, but it's time i get it off my mind. to be completely, whole-heartedly honest with all of you, i never in a million years forsaw the relationship that i have in my life now. i never planned to be the one trying to make an inter-racial relationship work, i never dreamed of being the girl always defending her life. perhaps that's a big part of the reason many of you don't know about this relationship - because deep-down, people always wanted acceptance, yet fear rejection.
it was true when i first found interest in guys long ago and later learned that the "you're just too good for me" excuse was nothing but a self-defense mechanism for a fear of rejection. today, i hope that those very boys who are using those lines will take the leap of faith in hope that it may just work out. even still, it's a hard battle and it's constant. to find acceptance in a world that is so over-populated with fabulous and great people, it's hard to be the one who sticks out like a sore thumb. trust me, a white girl seen with a black guy - no matter how fashionable, beautiful, wonderful they may be - is still a sore thumb. and because of this, i have debated giving up on quite possibly what is the best thing to ever happen to me. all because the issue of racism is too strong, the fear of rejection is evident and the need for acceptance is thriving.
does racism still exist? absolutely. try watching crash with someone of a different race - it will make you want to either hug him/her or run for the nearest exit after the first ten minutes. will racism ever be erased? i doubt it. the history books recorded it - people will continue to pass it down, impending their beliefs on others forever. but can we live in a racist world and still get along? absolutely. at least that's what i'm finally learning.
perhaps, this is the reason hitch, love actually and save the last dance have always been top of my movie list ... because i feel i can relate to the couples there. but, only in save the last dance is there ever the racial issue - for hitch and love actually, it was just love. my hope is that one day, bi-racial, inter-racial, whatever love will be considered that, just love. we watch remember the titans and think "man, i hate this race stuff," but then we are first to judge when something in our personal life just isn't right. trust me, i've experienced the looks, i've heard the comments, i've defended my decisions. but, i'm tired of doing all of that.
this morning, i watched dr. phil which was ironically about inter-racial issues. there was a white new mother on the show who was married to a black man. all during their dating, marriage and pregnancy, the girl's father would have nothing to do with them because of the race card. but somehow (by the grace of God i'd like to think), the father went to the birth of his granddaughter. when she was born he said, "i don't know what my problem was before, she is the most beautiful little girl i have ever laid my eyes upon." even for my very own mom, getting used to the black/white idea was challenging. while not racist herself, she wasn't sure how popular the idea was. now, everyday it seems i get another phone call or message saying "did you know that so and so is married to a black guy?" or something of the like. and as annoying as it may seem, i love her for it. because mom too, is not only aware of the issue but experiencing the change of heart.
many of you may not agree, many of you may not relate - but the truth is, i have to write about it because i'm living it. and while i didn't plan it, i never plan anything in my life well. a great, great friend told me when i first broke the news to her, "you know what linds, NOTHING in your life has ever been easy. why should this?" i don't know where this relationship will go with this particular guy, but i do know that he is the greatest thing that i've got right now. he supports me and he cares for me. and the thought of giving up on him for the acceptance of a few is a notion i can't even believe i considered choosing. while i know that with every relationship comes challenges, with this one there obviously are going to be many more than desired. yet, at some point you have to stop defending and start living.
and from this point on, this is what i plan to do.
and as mary j. blige says, "you can either hate it or love it..."
in the light of the movie crash, a movie i cannot praise with words but will forever wish for audiences to view ... my life seems to have taken its own crash. forgive me for being blunt today, forgive me for getting ready to bare a subject matter that i have seemingly concealed for quite sometime. my hope is after reading today's writing, that you will either reconsider some of your views or support me on mine. perchance you can't level with me, no hard feelings if i never hear from you again.
for as long as i can remember, literally, i was the little girl who wasn't afraid to play with or associate with people of different races than myself. obviously, being white and growing up in the early 80s, i wasn't faced with the segregation issues of my grandparents or parents, but that doesn't mean i didn't face them in some respect throughout my childhood. though my life wasn't the extravagance of a civil rights section in a history book, i grew up in the middle of a highly prejudice extended family. i was taught from my parents that all people were to be loved, but my extended family demonstrated differently. yet, race to me always just seemed to be another box you check, like the infamous "single" one. when i was younger, my black friends were simply that - friends. we hung out, we went out ... we danced to music, we shopped together. nothing was ever seemingly different, nothing ever needed explanation.
unfortunately, everything changes sooner or later.
as i put away childish things, i picked up on worldy ideals. i learned that racism was a heavy issue in a country that likes to classify themselves as "the melting pot," a place for all peoples. i quickly saw first hand how a small unborn bi-racial baby could be the ultimate division of a strong family foundation. and while pop culture and celebrities started to embrace the notion of inter-racial couples and equality amongst racial divisions, the average person still pounded his/her beliefs with a closed mind. today, as many of you know but all too many of you don't, i have been spending ample time with a guy who is black. i like to refer to him as "tall, dark and handsome" which he encompasses all three so well. he's gonna either kill me or love me when he reads this, but it's time i get it off my mind. to be completely, whole-heartedly honest with all of you, i never in a million years forsaw the relationship that i have in my life now. i never planned to be the one trying to make an inter-racial relationship work, i never dreamed of being the girl always defending her life. perhaps that's a big part of the reason many of you don't know about this relationship - because deep-down, people always wanted acceptance, yet fear rejection.
it was true when i first found interest in guys long ago and later learned that the "you're just too good for me" excuse was nothing but a self-defense mechanism for a fear of rejection. today, i hope that those very boys who are using those lines will take the leap of faith in hope that it may just work out. even still, it's a hard battle and it's constant. to find acceptance in a world that is so over-populated with fabulous and great people, it's hard to be the one who sticks out like a sore thumb. trust me, a white girl seen with a black guy - no matter how fashionable, beautiful, wonderful they may be - is still a sore thumb. and because of this, i have debated giving up on quite possibly what is the best thing to ever happen to me. all because the issue of racism is too strong, the fear of rejection is evident and the need for acceptance is thriving.
does racism still exist? absolutely. try watching crash with someone of a different race - it will make you want to either hug him/her or run for the nearest exit after the first ten minutes. will racism ever be erased? i doubt it. the history books recorded it - people will continue to pass it down, impending their beliefs on others forever. but can we live in a racist world and still get along? absolutely. at least that's what i'm finally learning.
perhaps, this is the reason hitch, love actually and save the last dance have always been top of my movie list ... because i feel i can relate to the couples there. but, only in save the last dance is there ever the racial issue - for hitch and love actually, it was just love. my hope is that one day, bi-racial, inter-racial, whatever love will be considered that, just love. we watch remember the titans and think "man, i hate this race stuff," but then we are first to judge when something in our personal life just isn't right. trust me, i've experienced the looks, i've heard the comments, i've defended my decisions. but, i'm tired of doing all of that.
this morning, i watched dr. phil which was ironically about inter-racial issues. there was a white new mother on the show who was married to a black man. all during their dating, marriage and pregnancy, the girl's father would have nothing to do with them because of the race card. but somehow (by the grace of God i'd like to think), the father went to the birth of his granddaughter. when she was born he said, "i don't know what my problem was before, she is the most beautiful little girl i have ever laid my eyes upon." even for my very own mom, getting used to the black/white idea was challenging. while not racist herself, she wasn't sure how popular the idea was. now, everyday it seems i get another phone call or message saying "did you know that so and so is married to a black guy?" or something of the like. and as annoying as it may seem, i love her for it. because mom too, is not only aware of the issue but experiencing the change of heart.
many of you may not agree, many of you may not relate - but the truth is, i have to write about it because i'm living it. and while i didn't plan it, i never plan anything in my life well. a great, great friend told me when i first broke the news to her, "you know what linds, NOTHING in your life has ever been easy. why should this?" i don't know where this relationship will go with this particular guy, but i do know that he is the greatest thing that i've got right now. he supports me and he cares for me. and the thought of giving up on him for the acceptance of a few is a notion i can't even believe i considered choosing. while i know that with every relationship comes challenges, with this one there obviously are going to be many more than desired. yet, at some point you have to stop defending and start living.
and from this point on, this is what i plan to do.
and as mary j. blige says, "you can either hate it or love it..."
Sunday, December 11, 2005
three places
there are three places where i get all of my so-called great thoughts from, so here are my secret dwellings: the shower, the car, the bed. i know, original right? truth is, somehow - no matter what assignment i have to write or what design i am trying to create, i can never think of the idea around the normal sane things of pen, paper or of course, word. but alas, this afternoon after a dreaded panther defeat (damn tampa bay), i went to take a hot shower to clear my head and relief my ill attitude.
the water was cold.
clearly, no ideas will flow from there today. so, im currently sitting here with my head wrapped in a star towel with a white chenile bath robe on, waiting on the water to warm (i know, wonderful visual. thanks linds). i decided since its been a mere eternity since i last wrote, i would conclude the semester with one final hoor-rah for finals.
seemingly enough, amongst my ever-so-chaotic, anything-but-ordinary life, i never found the time for my thanksgiving "things to be thankful for" blog and now with christmas fastly approaching, i haven't even had time to think about my christmas "wish list" blog. so - without further ado, this is the best ive got.
what ive learned most this semester is the art of a challenge. i've always said that things in life don't come easy, my life has been a living testament to this generalization. as i have blogged since this summer, i have watched two relatives slip away in freak accidents, turning my already vulnerable and screwed-up world upside down. with both occuring on holidays, it doesn't make the art of a holiday much of a family affair. with the loss of my aunt, i learned the value of life. i learned what comes unexpectedly to ourselves, don't necessarily come so to others. in this tragic incident, i saw the true passion of a friend and watched the pure emotion of a loss. on this holiday, the fireworks were bursts of anger, blame and bitterness exploding in the sky that had been ignited long before in the heart. on this holiday, the family cookout became a family stakeout. on this holiday, the memories captured in my head will forever be stained on my heart.
briefly following, with the tragic and freak-accident of a death of my grandfather, i learned the pain of unforgiveness. i saw first hand what it was like when someone you once loved dies without his/her knowing so. i saw tears of rage again stir amongst members of one's own family, looking for any type of outlet or justification for another holiday cursed, another life not spared. i never received the proper goodbye, i never paid my final respects - it's a book that still remains unclosed because all too quickly a man whom i had learned to despise slipped away without my forgiveness. on this holiday, the parade was not one of high school bands and santa claus, but of flowers and people in mourning. on this holiday, the newspaper did not tell of the thankful attitude of the day, but offered the full story of a life taken without notice. on this holiday, there was one less fight because one less piece of the family puzzle remained.
in this semester, i have seen first hand the impact of loss, but more importantly the devastation of pain, burdens, guilt and blame that lingers behind long after the sod grows tall. yes, from the beginng - my life has been a challenge. there have been days where i have wanted to cry instead of smile, to say "no, i'm not doing well," instead of "fine, thank you." but, what it has taught me most is to be ready, to be thankful, to be loving and to be forgiving.
be ready. you never know when someone's going to need you. in the blink of an eye, your phone may ring, a friend may show up at your door or a message comes to you that only you know how to respond to. no matter how long it's been since you have talked to the person, no matter how much pain that next step may be, i challenge you to take it. someone somewhere, is going to need you - i challenge you to be ready.
be thankful. thanksgiving is not the only time to be thankful and i'm not going to lie - for me, i found it very hard this year to even find one thing on this day. but the truth is, that you are abundantly blessed in so many ways. for everytime you have had a friend to call, a stranger said hello, food in your stomach and a roof over your head, you should be thankful. for everytime you have a loved one to hug, a family member to hold and a signficant other to kiss, you should be thankful. for everytime you have had the opportunity for a second chance, the moment to forgive, the time to move on, you should be thankful. that which challenges us will only make us stronger people, but you've got to be ready to take the leap and say thanks as people help you along the way. for me, i am thankful for a family that doesn't give up when the road only seems to lead to destruction. i am thankful for a group of friends so strong that even my mountains can't shake them. i am thankful for a home of my own that i can confide in when i feel like there is no where to run. i am thankful for the gift of language, the ability to express myself in words and the people so attached to reading them. and most importantly, i am thankful for the continual chance i get to prove myself time and time again, to take a challenge, overcome all obstacles and through thick and thin - find someway to say i did okay.
be loving. losing two loved ones without a proper goodbye is harder than many things i've had to do. my mom used to tell me as a little girl, "don't let the sun go down on you while you are mad." how i wish i had listened to those words harder than i have. all too often are we too quick to judge and even faster to burn bridges between the ones we love. i pray that this holiday season if you are experiencing even uncommon or shaky ground between you and another that you will find it in your heart to love that loved one again. as dark as it may sound, you never know how long they will be around - i challenge you to be loving in all ways. to strangers in the mall during the chaotic shopping days, to friends who just seem to get under your skin at times, to family members stretched far and wide that you just so happened to "lose touch" with. if you can do anything, you can love. it is the only thing that is universal.
and finally, be forgiving. it's the lesson that we learn when we first learn what it means to communicate, but it's the one we all too easily seem to forget. we are first to seek revenge, last to seek forgiveness. and no matter how much we age, we seem to always struggle letting the "he said, she said" game die right where it started. blame will get you nowhere, guilt won't get you any closer. for me, it put to people in the grave in less than four months. and there is seemingly nothing more difficult to mend then the heart with a hole that only forgiveness can cleanse. learn the lesson that forgiveness heals wounds deeper than were originally cut and even if it means taking down the mask of pride, it could save a life. this holiday season, i seek forgiveness for the one too many bridges i never extingushed and for the one too many times i was the one who lit the flames.
my life is but a testament, a challenge to myself. hard academic work loads, finanical struggles, life situtations often impossible to bare. but, i sit here today and i tell you that because of it all, somehow i smile and thank God that i am still pursuing a life that is anything-but-ordinary.
i guess you can't call this your typical thankful list or wish list, but it is one of my own - very dear to my heart and often left unsaid. this holiday season, my wish for you is simple: to love and be loved in return. i hope that you find joy amongst the little things, happiness with the family and love within the season. i pray that you restore broken bridges, mend hearts and learn to communicate with simple words that everyone longs to hear. thank you for your dedication to my blog and your open-mindness to my thoughts. i wish you a very, merry christmas and a happy new year.
and perchance i don't write to you before, we shall talk again in 2006.
the water was cold.
clearly, no ideas will flow from there today. so, im currently sitting here with my head wrapped in a star towel with a white chenile bath robe on, waiting on the water to warm (i know, wonderful visual. thanks linds). i decided since its been a mere eternity since i last wrote, i would conclude the semester with one final hoor-rah for finals.
seemingly enough, amongst my ever-so-chaotic, anything-but-ordinary life, i never found the time for my thanksgiving "things to be thankful for" blog and now with christmas fastly approaching, i haven't even had time to think about my christmas "wish list" blog. so - without further ado, this is the best ive got.
what ive learned most this semester is the art of a challenge. i've always said that things in life don't come easy, my life has been a living testament to this generalization. as i have blogged since this summer, i have watched two relatives slip away in freak accidents, turning my already vulnerable and screwed-up world upside down. with both occuring on holidays, it doesn't make the art of a holiday much of a family affair. with the loss of my aunt, i learned the value of life. i learned what comes unexpectedly to ourselves, don't necessarily come so to others. in this tragic incident, i saw the true passion of a friend and watched the pure emotion of a loss. on this holiday, the fireworks were bursts of anger, blame and bitterness exploding in the sky that had been ignited long before in the heart. on this holiday, the family cookout became a family stakeout. on this holiday, the memories captured in my head will forever be stained on my heart.
briefly following, with the tragic and freak-accident of a death of my grandfather, i learned the pain of unforgiveness. i saw first hand what it was like when someone you once loved dies without his/her knowing so. i saw tears of rage again stir amongst members of one's own family, looking for any type of outlet or justification for another holiday cursed, another life not spared. i never received the proper goodbye, i never paid my final respects - it's a book that still remains unclosed because all too quickly a man whom i had learned to despise slipped away without my forgiveness. on this holiday, the parade was not one of high school bands and santa claus, but of flowers and people in mourning. on this holiday, the newspaper did not tell of the thankful attitude of the day, but offered the full story of a life taken without notice. on this holiday, there was one less fight because one less piece of the family puzzle remained.
in this semester, i have seen first hand the impact of loss, but more importantly the devastation of pain, burdens, guilt and blame that lingers behind long after the sod grows tall. yes, from the beginng - my life has been a challenge. there have been days where i have wanted to cry instead of smile, to say "no, i'm not doing well," instead of "fine, thank you." but, what it has taught me most is to be ready, to be thankful, to be loving and to be forgiving.
be ready. you never know when someone's going to need you. in the blink of an eye, your phone may ring, a friend may show up at your door or a message comes to you that only you know how to respond to. no matter how long it's been since you have talked to the person, no matter how much pain that next step may be, i challenge you to take it. someone somewhere, is going to need you - i challenge you to be ready.
be thankful. thanksgiving is not the only time to be thankful and i'm not going to lie - for me, i found it very hard this year to even find one thing on this day. but the truth is, that you are abundantly blessed in so many ways. for everytime you have had a friend to call, a stranger said hello, food in your stomach and a roof over your head, you should be thankful. for everytime you have a loved one to hug, a family member to hold and a signficant other to kiss, you should be thankful. for everytime you have had the opportunity for a second chance, the moment to forgive, the time to move on, you should be thankful. that which challenges us will only make us stronger people, but you've got to be ready to take the leap and say thanks as people help you along the way. for me, i am thankful for a family that doesn't give up when the road only seems to lead to destruction. i am thankful for a group of friends so strong that even my mountains can't shake them. i am thankful for a home of my own that i can confide in when i feel like there is no where to run. i am thankful for the gift of language, the ability to express myself in words and the people so attached to reading them. and most importantly, i am thankful for the continual chance i get to prove myself time and time again, to take a challenge, overcome all obstacles and through thick and thin - find someway to say i did okay.
be loving. losing two loved ones without a proper goodbye is harder than many things i've had to do. my mom used to tell me as a little girl, "don't let the sun go down on you while you are mad." how i wish i had listened to those words harder than i have. all too often are we too quick to judge and even faster to burn bridges between the ones we love. i pray that this holiday season if you are experiencing even uncommon or shaky ground between you and another that you will find it in your heart to love that loved one again. as dark as it may sound, you never know how long they will be around - i challenge you to be loving in all ways. to strangers in the mall during the chaotic shopping days, to friends who just seem to get under your skin at times, to family members stretched far and wide that you just so happened to "lose touch" with. if you can do anything, you can love. it is the only thing that is universal.
and finally, be forgiving. it's the lesson that we learn when we first learn what it means to communicate, but it's the one we all too easily seem to forget. we are first to seek revenge, last to seek forgiveness. and no matter how much we age, we seem to always struggle letting the "he said, she said" game die right where it started. blame will get you nowhere, guilt won't get you any closer. for me, it put to people in the grave in less than four months. and there is seemingly nothing more difficult to mend then the heart with a hole that only forgiveness can cleanse. learn the lesson that forgiveness heals wounds deeper than were originally cut and even if it means taking down the mask of pride, it could save a life. this holiday season, i seek forgiveness for the one too many bridges i never extingushed and for the one too many times i was the one who lit the flames.
my life is but a testament, a challenge to myself. hard academic work loads, finanical struggles, life situtations often impossible to bare. but, i sit here today and i tell you that because of it all, somehow i smile and thank God that i am still pursuing a life that is anything-but-ordinary.
i guess you can't call this your typical thankful list or wish list, but it is one of my own - very dear to my heart and often left unsaid. this holiday season, my wish for you is simple: to love and be loved in return. i hope that you find joy amongst the little things, happiness with the family and love within the season. i pray that you restore broken bridges, mend hearts and learn to communicate with simple words that everyone longs to hear. thank you for your dedication to my blog and your open-mindness to my thoughts. i wish you a very, merry christmas and a happy new year.
and perchance i don't write to you before, we shall talk again in 2006.
Friday, November 18, 2005
gone looking for my deadline
a week ago, i had my first experience with getting laid-off. while sitting at my computer as i usually do, my phone rang a little after 9 o'clock, again leaving me thinking nothing was out of the ordinary. sweet - someone waited to talk to me when it was free, i thought. i looked at the caller id (because i am convinced that a single woman invented caller id) surprisingly to find that one of the mom's i babysit for on a regular basis was calling the night before i was expected to come.
voice mail?
answer?
for the thirty seconds the elevator music chimmed softly through my hands, i let the devil and angel on my shoulders present their closing arguments.
"hello?"
one for the angel.
ten minutes later and highly confused, i sat here dumbfounded wondering how i had just lost the job. mid-semester. hell, end of semester. when a girl needs her shoes! alas, time had come for her to take her bratty children into her own hands, and actually try parenting them for a while. (God, i hope she doesn't read my column.) i can't say, i was incredibly surprised by this explanation, but i did happen to think that after two and a half years of watching them, i sort of knew how to handle them. apparently not anymore.
or maybe, she just needed her shoes too.
for a week now, i have found a new found glory in a relaxed schedule. being a woman of deadlines, i seriously don't know how to function when someone's not standing over my shoulder saying "where's your story? you're ten minutes late! why aren't you done already? where are you? we're on a deadline here, what's wrong with you?"
and these people aren't even my colleagues. but since i was a little girl, i have learned how to work on a deadline - from mom waking me up before the sun rose, i used to hide my head under the covers in sheer protest of waking-up and starting my day. "if she doesn't see me, maybe she'll forget about me and let me sleep more," i used to foolishly think. when that planned failed, my scheming older sister and i came to our senses and played the game smarter than ever. every morning, throughout high school, we had warm handtowels delievered to us compliments of mom. some would call that spoiled, we merely saw it as five more minutes of sleep while she impatiently walked around the house looking for rags and waiting on the water to warm-up.
the dread of a remembering writer, i've side-tracked. point is - the 25 minutes i spend not waking-up, first taught me how to work quickly on a deadline. many mornings do i remember waking-up from that forgetful morning sleep with less than ten minutes to spare, and nine minutes later walking out with the same look as if i had spent an hour.
a deadline professional.
but now, i'm one less deadline, and one less responsiblity. boy, how this has changed my life in just a week. i find myself rearranging dvds (which were already perfectly alphabetized), painting my nails with a new color called wedding belle (because that's exactly what a single gal wants to put on her nails as a daily reminder of her flourishing life) or eating one too many spoonfuls of cookie dough. i've watched every movie imaginable, spent more time indoors and seemingly had less social contact than the groundhog.
when we are immersed in a society that functions on a deadline, how do we function without one?
tonight, as i warmed up my mashed potatoes and carefully watched the tyson chicken patty baking in the oven, i fell into despair. my oversized 'desk' in the center of a the 'dining room' starred back at me as the chairs sat neatly tucked under its tabletop. there was never a need to clear or set the table for dinner. there was never a need to pull out more than one plate, grab more than one fork or pour more than one glass. instead, each night i found myself sitting in the same spot - on the far left corner of the couch, red down blanket on my lap, glass with condensation on the ecuadorian coaster beside me. the only difference every meal was who would be my company - the childhood mornings of saved by the bell and bewitched, the afternoon lunches with the cosby show and boy meets world or the evening conversation with carrie, sam, miranda and charlotte, the six great friends in the great new york city apartments or the crazy ramones of a life all too similar. how, i began to miss so many things.
as i sat there, phone beside me, remote in hand, dinner on my lap - was i looking at my forever?
i thought about calling a friend, getting all dolled-up for the evening and going out, venturing to the mall to admire the new shoes - instead, my heart wanted to crawl into a bar and sip a martini and think about a life all too relaxed. the infamous words of my mom popped into my head as i sat my tv-tray beside me, "why can't you just enjoy sitting around and doing nothing for even a day?"
truth is - like my girls who befriend me every day and every night on six fabulous seasons, sometimes a girl's just gotta run free. maybe, we all weren't built to just lay around.
words from me, now i end with words from carrie -
"maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. maybe they're supposed to run wild until they find someone -- just as wild -- to run with."
excuse me while i go find my deadline.
voice mail?
answer?
for the thirty seconds the elevator music chimmed softly through my hands, i let the devil and angel on my shoulders present their closing arguments.
"hello?"
one for the angel.
ten minutes later and highly confused, i sat here dumbfounded wondering how i had just lost the job. mid-semester. hell, end of semester. when a girl needs her shoes! alas, time had come for her to take her bratty children into her own hands, and actually try parenting them for a while. (God, i hope she doesn't read my column.) i can't say, i was incredibly surprised by this explanation, but i did happen to think that after two and a half years of watching them, i sort of knew how to handle them. apparently not anymore.
or maybe, she just needed her shoes too.
for a week now, i have found a new found glory in a relaxed schedule. being a woman of deadlines, i seriously don't know how to function when someone's not standing over my shoulder saying "where's your story? you're ten minutes late! why aren't you done already? where are you? we're on a deadline here, what's wrong with you?"
and these people aren't even my colleagues. but since i was a little girl, i have learned how to work on a deadline - from mom waking me up before the sun rose, i used to hide my head under the covers in sheer protest of waking-up and starting my day. "if she doesn't see me, maybe she'll forget about me and let me sleep more," i used to foolishly think. when that planned failed, my scheming older sister and i came to our senses and played the game smarter than ever. every morning, throughout high school, we had warm handtowels delievered to us compliments of mom. some would call that spoiled, we merely saw it as five more minutes of sleep while she impatiently walked around the house looking for rags and waiting on the water to warm-up.
the dread of a remembering writer, i've side-tracked. point is - the 25 minutes i spend not waking-up, first taught me how to work quickly on a deadline. many mornings do i remember waking-up from that forgetful morning sleep with less than ten minutes to spare, and nine minutes later walking out with the same look as if i had spent an hour.
a deadline professional.
but now, i'm one less deadline, and one less responsiblity. boy, how this has changed my life in just a week. i find myself rearranging dvds (which were already perfectly alphabetized), painting my nails with a new color called wedding belle (because that's exactly what a single gal wants to put on her nails as a daily reminder of her flourishing life) or eating one too many spoonfuls of cookie dough. i've watched every movie imaginable, spent more time indoors and seemingly had less social contact than the groundhog.
when we are immersed in a society that functions on a deadline, how do we function without one?
tonight, as i warmed up my mashed potatoes and carefully watched the tyson chicken patty baking in the oven, i fell into despair. my oversized 'desk' in the center of a the 'dining room' starred back at me as the chairs sat neatly tucked under its tabletop. there was never a need to clear or set the table for dinner. there was never a need to pull out more than one plate, grab more than one fork or pour more than one glass. instead, each night i found myself sitting in the same spot - on the far left corner of the couch, red down blanket on my lap, glass with condensation on the ecuadorian coaster beside me. the only difference every meal was who would be my company - the childhood mornings of saved by the bell and bewitched, the afternoon lunches with the cosby show and boy meets world or the evening conversation with carrie, sam, miranda and charlotte, the six great friends in the great new york city apartments or the crazy ramones of a life all too similar. how, i began to miss so many things.
as i sat there, phone beside me, remote in hand, dinner on my lap - was i looking at my forever?
i thought about calling a friend, getting all dolled-up for the evening and going out, venturing to the mall to admire the new shoes - instead, my heart wanted to crawl into a bar and sip a martini and think about a life all too relaxed. the infamous words of my mom popped into my head as i sat my tv-tray beside me, "why can't you just enjoy sitting around and doing nothing for even a day?"
truth is - like my girls who befriend me every day and every night on six fabulous seasons, sometimes a girl's just gotta run free. maybe, we all weren't built to just lay around.
words from me, now i end with words from carrie -
"maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. maybe they're supposed to run wild until they find someone -- just as wild -- to run with."
excuse me while i go find my deadline.
Monday, November 07, 2005
online communication
so i wasn't going to comment on a matter that pertains to online immaturity, but alas i have lied. it just seems to bother me to no avail that no matter how old we get, some of us forget how to grow up and let go of childish things. whether its sappy away messages - these annoying love professions that personally make me want to come over to your house, unplug your computer, hurl it out the window and watch it shatter in a thousand pieces or the ever-so-aggravating and complaining messages about how horrible your life is against the rest of the world's - blogs, instant messages, computer messages, whatever ... truth is, if you are having to use the internet to express yourself, maybe you should find a better way.
now, journalists like myself with a love for writing simply host blogs and diaries for this very reason - we love to write. we know how to make our readers sympathize, visualize and realize the importance or lack thereof in every column we write. very rarely do we use our podiums as means of pointing fingers, whinning or just flat out being annoying. but at least, if we do - we do it with flair. this past week, i have watched a riot unfold on a free-profile based program i will leave unidentified. i will also admit that sadly enough i am a member of this program, but i now question my very existence in life because of it. regardless, this past week - friends have taken the slightest comments and twisted each and every word, totally deterimenting the essence of a relaxed, online communication world.
people have written off friends faster than they can write off a tax-donation at goodwill.
there is excessive (and unnecessary) name calling, absolutely ridiculous whinning and an enormous lack of maturity on all accounts. and it's days like these that make me realize why i ever started blocking people in the first place - at some point in your life, you are going to have to grow up. no more games, no more blames, no more "he said, she said." at some point or another, when is the world going to grow up online?
so - being the journalist that i am - i am stepping down from my pedestal with a checklist. next time you want to express your love, aggravation, devotion, hatred or sadness - follow these simple, basic rules that should be applied to EVERY medium of internet communication:
1. if you wouldn't call me and say EXACTLY what you type and how you type it - don't waste time typing it. and for heaven's sake - if you are trying to cuss someone out, use a dictionary.
2. if your text involves a sentence of even ONE exclamation point - you better have just won the powerball. let's face it - nothing you can say or do is EVER deserving of twenty exclamation points. EVER.
3. if you love him/her - they should know it. by now, the rest of the world does too - we don't care ANYMORE. take these annoying, love sick text messages OFF your system. before i do.
4. if you want to keep friends, try being one. no one wants to hear someone complain, whine or talk about his/her day, everyday - all day. just stay offline that day if you cant - BE NICE.
5. there's a motto - "if you can't say it to my face, then don't say it at all." saying it online is NOT saying it to anyone's face.
6. just because you are having a bad day doesn't mean you should keep reminding yourself of it - try reverse pyschology on your text - buy a pair of shoes. SOMETHING.
7. don't expect people to leave you messages JUST because you complain, attach a crying face or whine about someone/thing. it's a cheap trick, and people are no longer falling for it.
8. if you love him/her and you are currently with him/her during the time your text says you love him/her - please just come over to my house and SHOOT ME NOW.
9. if you continue to use such sappy or ridiculous annoying texts, please realize you will be BLOCKED. no, not because i am immature, but because you are annoying.
and finally -
10. GROW UP. use mediums of online communication for things that are fun, entertaining and savvy. everyone likes a good laugh, a smile or just something worth reading - and eventually, people are going to stop keeping up with you because you don't make us do any of these things.
happy texting.
and beware, i'm watching.
now, journalists like myself with a love for writing simply host blogs and diaries for this very reason - we love to write. we know how to make our readers sympathize, visualize and realize the importance or lack thereof in every column we write. very rarely do we use our podiums as means of pointing fingers, whinning or just flat out being annoying. but at least, if we do - we do it with flair. this past week, i have watched a riot unfold on a free-profile based program i will leave unidentified. i will also admit that sadly enough i am a member of this program, but i now question my very existence in life because of it. regardless, this past week - friends have taken the slightest comments and twisted each and every word, totally deterimenting the essence of a relaxed, online communication world.
people have written off friends faster than they can write off a tax-donation at goodwill.
there is excessive (and unnecessary) name calling, absolutely ridiculous whinning and an enormous lack of maturity on all accounts. and it's days like these that make me realize why i ever started blocking people in the first place - at some point in your life, you are going to have to grow up. no more games, no more blames, no more "he said, she said." at some point or another, when is the world going to grow up online?
so - being the journalist that i am - i am stepping down from my pedestal with a checklist. next time you want to express your love, aggravation, devotion, hatred or sadness - follow these simple, basic rules that should be applied to EVERY medium of internet communication:
1. if you wouldn't call me and say EXACTLY what you type and how you type it - don't waste time typing it. and for heaven's sake - if you are trying to cuss someone out, use a dictionary.
2. if your text involves a sentence of even ONE exclamation point - you better have just won the powerball. let's face it - nothing you can say or do is EVER deserving of twenty exclamation points. EVER.
3. if you love him/her - they should know it. by now, the rest of the world does too - we don't care ANYMORE. take these annoying, love sick text messages OFF your system. before i do.
4. if you want to keep friends, try being one. no one wants to hear someone complain, whine or talk about his/her day, everyday - all day. just stay offline that day if you cant - BE NICE.
5. there's a motto - "if you can't say it to my face, then don't say it at all." saying it online is NOT saying it to anyone's face.
6. just because you are having a bad day doesn't mean you should keep reminding yourself of it - try reverse pyschology on your text - buy a pair of shoes. SOMETHING.
7. don't expect people to leave you messages JUST because you complain, attach a crying face or whine about someone/thing. it's a cheap trick, and people are no longer falling for it.
8. if you love him/her and you are currently with him/her during the time your text says you love him/her - please just come over to my house and SHOOT ME NOW.
9. if you continue to use such sappy or ridiculous annoying texts, please realize you will be BLOCKED. no, not because i am immature, but because you are annoying.
and finally -
10. GROW UP. use mediums of online communication for things that are fun, entertaining and savvy. everyone likes a good laugh, a smile or just something worth reading - and eventually, people are going to stop keeping up with you because you don't make us do any of these things.
happy texting.
and beware, i'm watching.
Friday, November 04, 2005
perhaps
i'm not going to lie - i've been in a rather bad mood these past few days. it happens rarely without reason, but when it comes - it's often hard to rid. i can never pinpoint the cause, but at the same time, i can never redirect the attitude. it seems on these days you can compare me to a pregnant woman (though, no - i am not) because i seem to have mood swings as if i were expecting any day. i cry at the drop of a hat, i laugh at the most akward timing and i seem ill to anyone who usually finds me smiling. and i could sit here tonight and give you a bunch of reasons why i think things are going the way they are - but it would all amount to me stressing out even more than i already have this week.
whether it's school, an internship, work - lack of work, finances - lack of finances, homesicknesses or anything else of suit ... truth is, with enough time and not enough attention - it will most certaintly find a way to get under your skin and get you down. and that's exactly what's happened this week. i've allowed myself to think about everything that is going wrong in my life and wonder where i screwed up along the way.
why did i make a bad grade on that paper?
why can't i just send my resume out after the new year?
where do i want to live in may?
will i make the dean's list?
what internship do i want to do in the spring?
will i have enough money to live comfortably?
will he like me if i make him wait?
i think we could play the questions game all night and day - and we could always make ourselves wonder if we are doing right or stepping wrong. but, does asking questions really get you any farther or closer to success?
are we really afraid we will fail or have we just defined 'success' too specifically?
i cried twice last night - once because i was afraid that i was living my life for everyone but myself.
the second - because i almost took my worries out on someone else.
any other night, i would have hung up the phone with the person i upset and said "whatever - they'll be over it in the morning and so will i." but last night, i grew up a little bit. i decided that my problems weren't problems because i needed them to be, they were problems because i made them be. i called back - cried some more - and fixed the flaw that i let get the best of me.
i don't know why i made a bad grade, when my resume will go out, where i will live, if i'll make the dean's list, where i'll be interning, if i'll have enough money or if he'll like me - but not knowing in that moment i've learned, doesn't make me a failure. and not knowing a week, a month or a year down the road doesn't make me unsuccessful either.
what if the person who said our biggest critic is ourself was right - and what if the best thing we can do in the moment we find ourself destroying everything about ourselves we can think of, is to sit back - take a deep breath and believe that somewhere down the road we'll rediscover the footsteps and start walking the road of success again?
perhaps, somewhere along the way our questions will get answered, or who knows - maybe they'll just disappear into the wind.
perhaps, somewhere along the way we will learn to love the person we've become - flaws in all - failures and imperfections - worries and stresses.
perhaps, somewhere along the way our tears will become our joys and our joys will become our memories.
perhaps.
whether it's school, an internship, work - lack of work, finances - lack of finances, homesicknesses or anything else of suit ... truth is, with enough time and not enough attention - it will most certaintly find a way to get under your skin and get you down. and that's exactly what's happened this week. i've allowed myself to think about everything that is going wrong in my life and wonder where i screwed up along the way.
why did i make a bad grade on that paper?
why can't i just send my resume out after the new year?
where do i want to live in may?
will i make the dean's list?
what internship do i want to do in the spring?
will i have enough money to live comfortably?
will he like me if i make him wait?
i think we could play the questions game all night and day - and we could always make ourselves wonder if we are doing right or stepping wrong. but, does asking questions really get you any farther or closer to success?
are we really afraid we will fail or have we just defined 'success' too specifically?
i cried twice last night - once because i was afraid that i was living my life for everyone but myself.
the second - because i almost took my worries out on someone else.
any other night, i would have hung up the phone with the person i upset and said "whatever - they'll be over it in the morning and so will i." but last night, i grew up a little bit. i decided that my problems weren't problems because i needed them to be, they were problems because i made them be. i called back - cried some more - and fixed the flaw that i let get the best of me.
i don't know why i made a bad grade, when my resume will go out, where i will live, if i'll make the dean's list, where i'll be interning, if i'll have enough money or if he'll like me - but not knowing in that moment i've learned, doesn't make me a failure. and not knowing a week, a month or a year down the road doesn't make me unsuccessful either.
what if the person who said our biggest critic is ourself was right - and what if the best thing we can do in the moment we find ourself destroying everything about ourselves we can think of, is to sit back - take a deep breath and believe that somewhere down the road we'll rediscover the footsteps and start walking the road of success again?
perhaps, somewhere along the way our questions will get answered, or who knows - maybe they'll just disappear into the wind.
perhaps, somewhere along the way we will learn to love the person we've become - flaws in all - failures and imperfections - worries and stresses.
perhaps, somewhere along the way our tears will become our joys and our joys will become our memories.
perhaps.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
central encounter
thirteen minutes to spare. beautiful blue skies, puffy white clouds linger by while lush green grass creates the landscape. in the center of it all, stands a mini-city . . . a world of harden-hearts, hatred, hostility, hardship. before my eyes, chain link fences seem to stretch like beanstalks toward the sky. at top of them, like curled ribbon - the wires warn the intruders and the insiders of the consequences. large earth-worn cement blocks stack together to form enormous walls, men acting like guard dogs, pace the top.
the car is parked, the carribeaner is taken off the keychain. the radio silences, the purse tucked away under the front seat. placing the keyring on my middle finger and clinching to the rest, my identification card and myself disconnect from the real to enter the dreary.
i circle "female" and sign my name, and as i do i know that i am signing away my right to privacy. once i am in these walls, everything changes. i join the rest of the group, fully observe the toned and untamed woman guiding our way and take a deep breath.
i walk in the first door. the blue sky fades away.
slamming behind me slowly enough to send chills up the spine, the bleak uncleaned tan paint on the cement door slides from left to right locking me in.
welcome to central prison.
with every door that kept me in its constraints, my mind wandered farther in farther down the corridors of its confinement. every wall was painted the same dreadful color, every thing made of metal and cement. there were no smiles covering the faces, no artwork draping the walls, no colors enhancing the lifestyles. just darkness remained.
the sense of control was completely disminshed as elevators were controlled by officers locked in plexiglass boxes with a control panel of buttons. there were no buttons inside the elevators - above, a camera video-taped your every move, a speaker connected you to the control panel and your voice signaled your desire. at any given point, someone whether prisoner or patrol was observing you, watching you, stalking you.
and your sense of comfort became your fear of insecurity.
up hallways, down stairs, through the voice activated cement doors, the female bully of a control officer led us through the labryinth as if we were touring a zoo or a museum. as she pointed out areas, i watched as eyes observed us from all areas - through glass, behind bars, locked in handcuffs. many of my group members looked down out of fear - i looked on with humanity.
an elevator lead us from mediocre temperatures into a small space no larger than an average bathroom. inside, the temperature dropped, the lights were dim and the vibrations seemed to linger as if haunting the space. in the center of the room, a window. as if on display for the entire world to see, an empty gurney, a white curtain behind, cords and indicator lights around.
a window of death.
a chamber significant.
within these cold walls, my heart stopped. this was not a hospital, someone had not died here by accident. someone had died here by fate, controlled by his own actions, enforced as his consequences. within these cold walls, man took man's life.
another hall led to another story, another story led to another emotion. a recreation room filled with ping pong tables, pool tables, weights. alongside every wall, engaged in every activity, men froze and looked upon our pretty, young faces as we interuppted their unpleasant world of white jumpsuits merely to observe their situation. a door in the corner pass the men offered significant hope for blue skies. outside, the men were lingering under the shade, perched on bleachers smoking cigarrettes. no one played shuffleboard. no one played basketball. everyone starred, and the guard dogs of men watched our every move from the tower above. another outdoor area harbored cages - eight by eight cubicles where men with bad behavior fought boredom for eight hours alone. chain link cages that actually locked in men like a pack of hungry wolves. here, the blue skies didn't seem nearly as blue anymore.
down more hallways, through the same creeping doors, color caught my eye from ahead. the color of death was now the color of rage and hate as the cement decor took on a vibrant hue of red. the men captive within these walls, standing within reach to shake their hands, wore the same piercing shade of red. it was a code, a signal. it was death row.
standing in a cell block, glancing down at the small bed, the single pillow, the single locker i couldn't help but wonder why anyone would choose this life. a toliet and sink at arm's length from the bed, locked uncomfortably and unwillingly every night. metal picnic tables formed the "living rooms" - a shower door that barely covered the essentials. a pod. this was life at its finest for the inmates; this was life inside a pod for at least seven years.
for two hours, emotions mixed while my heart sped up and stopped all the same. a tear of compassion, a hint of disapproval. a lifestyle chosen or a lifestyle destined? some full of pain, hatred, disbelief; others still pretending to be the evilest of them all. within these walls there are so many stories, so many tales, so many moments that take your breath away. whether its the creeping doors, the loss of control, the invasion of privacy or the need for humanity - within these walls, you will question your destiny.
will you move toward three hot meals and a bed every day for years and years to come, or will you take a minute to admire the blue skies and the white enormous clouds swaying by?
the car is parked, the carribeaner is taken off the keychain. the radio silences, the purse tucked away under the front seat. placing the keyring on my middle finger and clinching to the rest, my identification card and myself disconnect from the real to enter the dreary.
i circle "female" and sign my name, and as i do i know that i am signing away my right to privacy. once i am in these walls, everything changes. i join the rest of the group, fully observe the toned and untamed woman guiding our way and take a deep breath.
i walk in the first door. the blue sky fades away.
slamming behind me slowly enough to send chills up the spine, the bleak uncleaned tan paint on the cement door slides from left to right locking me in.
welcome to central prison.
with every door that kept me in its constraints, my mind wandered farther in farther down the corridors of its confinement. every wall was painted the same dreadful color, every thing made of metal and cement. there were no smiles covering the faces, no artwork draping the walls, no colors enhancing the lifestyles. just darkness remained.
the sense of control was completely disminshed as elevators were controlled by officers locked in plexiglass boxes with a control panel of buttons. there were no buttons inside the elevators - above, a camera video-taped your every move, a speaker connected you to the control panel and your voice signaled your desire. at any given point, someone whether prisoner or patrol was observing you, watching you, stalking you.
and your sense of comfort became your fear of insecurity.
up hallways, down stairs, through the voice activated cement doors, the female bully of a control officer led us through the labryinth as if we were touring a zoo or a museum. as she pointed out areas, i watched as eyes observed us from all areas - through glass, behind bars, locked in handcuffs. many of my group members looked down out of fear - i looked on with humanity.
an elevator lead us from mediocre temperatures into a small space no larger than an average bathroom. inside, the temperature dropped, the lights were dim and the vibrations seemed to linger as if haunting the space. in the center of the room, a window. as if on display for the entire world to see, an empty gurney, a white curtain behind, cords and indicator lights around.
a window of death.
a chamber significant.
within these cold walls, my heart stopped. this was not a hospital, someone had not died here by accident. someone had died here by fate, controlled by his own actions, enforced as his consequences. within these cold walls, man took man's life.
another hall led to another story, another story led to another emotion. a recreation room filled with ping pong tables, pool tables, weights. alongside every wall, engaged in every activity, men froze and looked upon our pretty, young faces as we interuppted their unpleasant world of white jumpsuits merely to observe their situation. a door in the corner pass the men offered significant hope for blue skies. outside, the men were lingering under the shade, perched on bleachers smoking cigarrettes. no one played shuffleboard. no one played basketball. everyone starred, and the guard dogs of men watched our every move from the tower above. another outdoor area harbored cages - eight by eight cubicles where men with bad behavior fought boredom for eight hours alone. chain link cages that actually locked in men like a pack of hungry wolves. here, the blue skies didn't seem nearly as blue anymore.
down more hallways, through the same creeping doors, color caught my eye from ahead. the color of death was now the color of rage and hate as the cement decor took on a vibrant hue of red. the men captive within these walls, standing within reach to shake their hands, wore the same piercing shade of red. it was a code, a signal. it was death row.
standing in a cell block, glancing down at the small bed, the single pillow, the single locker i couldn't help but wonder why anyone would choose this life. a toliet and sink at arm's length from the bed, locked uncomfortably and unwillingly every night. metal picnic tables formed the "living rooms" - a shower door that barely covered the essentials. a pod. this was life at its finest for the inmates; this was life inside a pod for at least seven years.
for two hours, emotions mixed while my heart sped up and stopped all the same. a tear of compassion, a hint of disapproval. a lifestyle chosen or a lifestyle destined? some full of pain, hatred, disbelief; others still pretending to be the evilest of them all. within these walls there are so many stories, so many tales, so many moments that take your breath away. whether its the creeping doors, the loss of control, the invasion of privacy or the need for humanity - within these walls, you will question your destiny.
will you move toward three hot meals and a bed every day for years and years to come, or will you take a minute to admire the blue skies and the white enormous clouds swaying by?
Monday, October 03, 2005
the kaleidoscope
help me out on this one kenny. first let me say, the pressure of writing this column is increasing with every entry, and it makes me quite nervous each time i go to write. so, tonight i have eluded to help from kenny g in hopes to ease the pressure.
for the past few weeks, i have been strongly contemplating the notion of decisions. we have talked about relationships, fashions, life-decisions . . . covering every aspect big and small. but no matter how long i spend drilling this subject, it doesn’t seem to resolve it. therefore, i fill the need to continue researching this phenomenon that baffles my mind daily – what is it about the power of a decision that affects a life?
last night, i decided to rediscover once again the idea of a social life – and in doing so, attended a late-night party in gorman crossings. (andre, i dedicate this blog to you for the inspiration that it has allowed). i’ll be honest, i wasn’t sure if i wanted to go – and debated it with my heart and head for quite some time. eleven o’clock – why that’s awful late to begin celebrating i thought. but, i did have on a cute outfit and i thought seeing some old friends would be an enjoyable experience no matter what the clock detailed. so, i picked up my friend and we headed to the party – unsure of what we would find, unwilling to give my mind a second to create an inspirational piece from pj and beer.
when i walked up to the party, my margarita long upon bringing me back to sobriety and with my new kitten heel pumps comfortably breaking themselves in, i fixed my eyes on a diverse crowd mingling outside on the sidewalk. i thought to myself, “if it’s 11:30 and already there are this many people outside this apartment, there is no way there is going to be room inside.”
just the opposite – when i opened the door slowly with expectation to quickly close it and run pretending i had never arrived, i opened my mind to a room bleeding red. a system was fixed in the back of the room, sending vibrations throughout the walls, under the carpet and up my feet to change the rhythm of my heartbeat. peering out behind the walls of red, welcomed a room of dark green – creating confusion for the eyes, yet excitement of what precisely the room held. when i walked through the lava red room into the emerald green room, the glowing blue room to my left distracted my attention. guests standing around coolers of alcohol in this room were glowing - teeth shining, jersey numbers blinding – as the black lit room illuminated the company. as my eyes were forced to adjust to the light, so my mind was forced to adjust to the scenery.
the whole night, i spent my time deciding which room i wanted to be in – did i like the red, the green or the blue? did one room offer a particular setting, did one flatter my appearance better? was one room more popular than others, how did conversation fluctuate throughout the rooms? for three hours or so – i breathed in the kaleidoscope of colors, wondering the mystery behind the light.
our lives are this kaleidoscope. had these rooms been illuminated with bright white light, the setting would have resounded completely different messages – the colors suggested life in the limelight, a club-like atmosphere for a residential-like space. the hosts wanted you to believe you were somewhere you were not, you were experiencing different emotions simply based on the color of the bulb.
the red room represents the unknown. when you walk into this room – whether it be a friendship, relationship, job interview, new school, new class – you experience butterflies in your stomach that are unexplainable. you cannot control your excitement, but at the same time you are faced with insecurities, doubts, fears and the “what-if’s.” you wonder if the red room holds the answers to your deepest questions or if upon entering, you will quickly look for the door in which you entered. you stand in this room and you observe your surroundings, you are new meat to an unfamiliar setting. you are forced to adjust, and eventually you find comfort in the color. perhaps it becomes a color of love, lust, desire; maybe it becomes a room full of emotion as you begin this new relationship and the vibrations you feel under your feet soon sync with your heart’s own beat. – are you ready to start a new relationship?
but, then in the distance – in the back of the room – you notice green light seeping through.
this room represents change. you have grown accustomed to the hues of rose petals, and the thought of leaving its walls doesn’t excite your heart too much – for it has found it’s beat. but, your mind and your eyes cannot look away from the subtle hint of emerald green spilling through, merging red and green walls as one. so maybe against hearts and minds and wills you hesitantly walk through into the green. in this room, the guests are laughing, mingling and seem surer of themselves and their confinement. perhaps, this point could be that – “blah phase” of your friendship/relationship – that mediocre stand still. in this room, you are comfortable with where you stand, but wonder if there is something wrong or could be something better. this room offers change, the possibility of greatness – the fear of destruction. and just like that, someone approaches you, places his/her hand upon your cheek and presents an option. other guests become envious and suddenly the emerald walls suggest jealously and turmoil. you begin to question the decisions you have made thus far in your life and in your unknown path – is this really where i want to be at this very moment?
to the left, you see another color – one of deep blues, creating images of piercing whites. you enter this room. in this phase of your life, you are now looking at the details. you are either happy or ready for change – and this room has you analyzing every piece of information for clarity. in the back of your mind, you think of the days you spent in the red room – when you decided to start something new – and you reflect on the time spent in the green one – where ideas, morals and individual decisions were challenged, and you see these colors all around you. but in this room, the only color that you can focus on is the white that is being highlighted by the power of the blue – which either tells you of the strong or negative details within your new relationship. – are the details what are making your relationship worthwhile, or are they making the relationship worthless?
in life, we spend ample times in each of these rooms – wondering if and when to begin something new, if and when should we make a change and if and when do the details matter? in a relationship, there are always going to be those moments where we are faced with decisions – to begin or to end, to like or to love, to trust or to betray, to be honest or to lead astray. in a relationship, there are always going to be those moments that present a challenge – one of jealously, of difficult relationship talks, of seriousness or friendship. in a relationship, there are always going to be those moments were we are forced to focus on the details – whether big or small – and decide if they matter even at all.
perhaps you are sitting here trying to decide what room you are in or if you have even opened the door. maybe you are trying to find a way to begin a relationship, get out of one or advance one. or just maybe you aren’t sure if you were even invited to the party. no matter where you are in life and in your love life for that matter, there is something to be learned from a house party of colored lights: our lives are kaleidoscopes in that we will never find the moment where our lives all seemed to come together and we set up shop in a room of one color. at some point in your life (and most likely more than once), you will be faced with rooms full of color, relationships of any kind, which you must decide what you are going to do with. you are the only one who can choose to enter these rooms, make these decisions and begin these relationships. but no matter which room you go into, the other colors will seep through – and the door in which you entered, will always be in sight.
may your parties be filled with color, your relationships thriving with excitement . . . and your life with as much thrill as the kaleidoscope has to offer.
for the past few weeks, i have been strongly contemplating the notion of decisions. we have talked about relationships, fashions, life-decisions . . . covering every aspect big and small. but no matter how long i spend drilling this subject, it doesn’t seem to resolve it. therefore, i fill the need to continue researching this phenomenon that baffles my mind daily – what is it about the power of a decision that affects a life?
last night, i decided to rediscover once again the idea of a social life – and in doing so, attended a late-night party in gorman crossings. (andre, i dedicate this blog to you for the inspiration that it has allowed). i’ll be honest, i wasn’t sure if i wanted to go – and debated it with my heart and head for quite some time. eleven o’clock – why that’s awful late to begin celebrating i thought. but, i did have on a cute outfit and i thought seeing some old friends would be an enjoyable experience no matter what the clock detailed. so, i picked up my friend and we headed to the party – unsure of what we would find, unwilling to give my mind a second to create an inspirational piece from pj and beer.
when i walked up to the party, my margarita long upon bringing me back to sobriety and with my new kitten heel pumps comfortably breaking themselves in, i fixed my eyes on a diverse crowd mingling outside on the sidewalk. i thought to myself, “if it’s 11:30 and already there are this many people outside this apartment, there is no way there is going to be room inside.”
just the opposite – when i opened the door slowly with expectation to quickly close it and run pretending i had never arrived, i opened my mind to a room bleeding red. a system was fixed in the back of the room, sending vibrations throughout the walls, under the carpet and up my feet to change the rhythm of my heartbeat. peering out behind the walls of red, welcomed a room of dark green – creating confusion for the eyes, yet excitement of what precisely the room held. when i walked through the lava red room into the emerald green room, the glowing blue room to my left distracted my attention. guests standing around coolers of alcohol in this room were glowing - teeth shining, jersey numbers blinding – as the black lit room illuminated the company. as my eyes were forced to adjust to the light, so my mind was forced to adjust to the scenery.
the whole night, i spent my time deciding which room i wanted to be in – did i like the red, the green or the blue? did one room offer a particular setting, did one flatter my appearance better? was one room more popular than others, how did conversation fluctuate throughout the rooms? for three hours or so – i breathed in the kaleidoscope of colors, wondering the mystery behind the light.
our lives are this kaleidoscope. had these rooms been illuminated with bright white light, the setting would have resounded completely different messages – the colors suggested life in the limelight, a club-like atmosphere for a residential-like space. the hosts wanted you to believe you were somewhere you were not, you were experiencing different emotions simply based on the color of the bulb.
the red room represents the unknown. when you walk into this room – whether it be a friendship, relationship, job interview, new school, new class – you experience butterflies in your stomach that are unexplainable. you cannot control your excitement, but at the same time you are faced with insecurities, doubts, fears and the “what-if’s.” you wonder if the red room holds the answers to your deepest questions or if upon entering, you will quickly look for the door in which you entered. you stand in this room and you observe your surroundings, you are new meat to an unfamiliar setting. you are forced to adjust, and eventually you find comfort in the color. perhaps it becomes a color of love, lust, desire; maybe it becomes a room full of emotion as you begin this new relationship and the vibrations you feel under your feet soon sync with your heart’s own beat. – are you ready to start a new relationship?
but, then in the distance – in the back of the room – you notice green light seeping through.
this room represents change. you have grown accustomed to the hues of rose petals, and the thought of leaving its walls doesn’t excite your heart too much – for it has found it’s beat. but, your mind and your eyes cannot look away from the subtle hint of emerald green spilling through, merging red and green walls as one. so maybe against hearts and minds and wills you hesitantly walk through into the green. in this room, the guests are laughing, mingling and seem surer of themselves and their confinement. perhaps, this point could be that – “blah phase” of your friendship/relationship – that mediocre stand still. in this room, you are comfortable with where you stand, but wonder if there is something wrong or could be something better. this room offers change, the possibility of greatness – the fear of destruction. and just like that, someone approaches you, places his/her hand upon your cheek and presents an option. other guests become envious and suddenly the emerald walls suggest jealously and turmoil. you begin to question the decisions you have made thus far in your life and in your unknown path – is this really where i want to be at this very moment?
to the left, you see another color – one of deep blues, creating images of piercing whites. you enter this room. in this phase of your life, you are now looking at the details. you are either happy or ready for change – and this room has you analyzing every piece of information for clarity. in the back of your mind, you think of the days you spent in the red room – when you decided to start something new – and you reflect on the time spent in the green one – where ideas, morals and individual decisions were challenged, and you see these colors all around you. but in this room, the only color that you can focus on is the white that is being highlighted by the power of the blue – which either tells you of the strong or negative details within your new relationship. – are the details what are making your relationship worthwhile, or are they making the relationship worthless?
in life, we spend ample times in each of these rooms – wondering if and when to begin something new, if and when should we make a change and if and when do the details matter? in a relationship, there are always going to be those moments where we are faced with decisions – to begin or to end, to like or to love, to trust or to betray, to be honest or to lead astray. in a relationship, there are always going to be those moments that present a challenge – one of jealously, of difficult relationship talks, of seriousness or friendship. in a relationship, there are always going to be those moments were we are forced to focus on the details – whether big or small – and decide if they matter even at all.
perhaps you are sitting here trying to decide what room you are in or if you have even opened the door. maybe you are trying to find a way to begin a relationship, get out of one or advance one. or just maybe you aren’t sure if you were even invited to the party. no matter where you are in life and in your love life for that matter, there is something to be learned from a house party of colored lights: our lives are kaleidoscopes in that we will never find the moment where our lives all seemed to come together and we set up shop in a room of one color. at some point in your life (and most likely more than once), you will be faced with rooms full of color, relationships of any kind, which you must decide what you are going to do with. you are the only one who can choose to enter these rooms, make these decisions and begin these relationships. but no matter which room you go into, the other colors will seep through – and the door in which you entered, will always be in sight.
may your parties be filled with color, your relationships thriving with excitement . . . and your life with as much thrill as the kaleidoscope has to offer.
Friday, September 30, 2005
one wish
there's a song out right now called "one wish," and i think it encompasses everything that has been on my mind these past few weeks sans entries. "if i had one wish, we'd be best friends. love would never ever end, it would just begin. if i had one wish, you would be my boo. promise to love you. trust me, ill trust you. if i had one wish, we would wanna play, make love all day. have us a baby. if i had one wish, i'd make you my whole life, i'd make you my wife, make it right this time. if i had one wish."
this entry is sparked by dale (who i must say rocks), when he left me an instant message this morning saying: if he could only spend the rest of his life with one person, it would either be me or his best friend. i was flattered, and i still am. if i could only see one person for the rest of my life, who would it be?
yesterday, i was driving to work and as i rushed off the interstate and got stuck at the traffic light, i noticed the homeless man on the side of the road, directly to my left. he had torn shoes, ripped khakis, a faded polo and scruffy hair. the bookbag sat in the grass beside him and the infamous sign was perched at his waist. "need money, God bless." . . . if he had one wish, what would it be?
today, as i fulfilled my weekly role of soccer mom, taking tanner and his friend brian to soccer practice, my friend called me to chat about her day. in the process of talking to her, i was batting away tanner's hand from turning up the radio and calling out spelling words to riley in the backseat. "you are going to be such a mom," my friend said. "you think so?" i asked - kinda intrigued, kinda already knowing the answer. "linds, you are driving to soccer - you're probably late, and you are calling out spelling words on the way. you're going to be a great mom." if i had to design my life plan, what would it look like?
tonight, i came home to an empty apartment, grilled a smoked turkey hotdog and within five minutes was ready to watch some televsion. without hesitation, i plopped down on the couch and pushed my dvr on my taped programs. and like a broken record, i watched sex and the city, edited versions. samantha was showing off her new apartment in downtown manhattan - and while she sipped on wine with her three best friends, she said, "i have it all." i sat alone, sweet tea filled my glass, and i had no idea where any of my friends were. if i could have it all, what would "all" be?
now, i'm not your super romantic, and most of you probably know this by now - but i cannot help to wonder sometimes what my one wish would be, who my one person would be, what i would do with my life or even what classifies as having it all. within these two weeks, i have turned twenty one, rediscovered my social life, purchased new goldfish, bought an entire fall collection and to any sane person's opinion, neglected the opportunity to begin a relationship with an amazing guy.
it seems for the longest time, i have been trying to figure out my life: wanting so desperately to discover real friends, real love, real life, real faith. i wanted everything, at the cost of nothing. that road didn't get me much farther than a toliet-side funeral for five shiny goldfish, a date night with dvr, and watching the backside of one too many guys giving up and walking away. i wasn't sure which way to go, who to believe or even if the fault was mine. i called girlfriends, i cried - i pleaded with myself to change habits, figure out life and start afresh. but, still i sit here wondering why if everything is sitting right here in front of me, i can't accept it. why is it that when we are presented with so many things to make our lives better, we immediately run in the opposite direction? why don't we just allow ourselves to have it all, when all is sitting on our doorstep?
if i had one wish, i would do so many things. i would stand in the middle of a room full of insects and not freak out. i would go to the doctor and get shot without crying still. i would apply to law school in a mere attempt to strive at something out of the ordinary for a journalist. i would write a book today and sell it tomorrow. i would let myself fall in love.
for the longest time, my heart has battled with my mind about relationships. was i ready to get in one, were my feelings for some other guys diminished, could i handle exclusiveness? i wasn't, they weren't and i couldn't. but the one thing i could do was admit that to myself and to anyone on the potential roster. for a girl, no matter how hard we try to fall in love, if we aren't ready, there is not one thing in this world that can make us change our minds. roses, dinners, cards, servantitude, compliments - as wonderful and beautiful as all of them are, they fall short of the only person that stands in our way. ourselves.
i have discovered in these past two weeks, that the only person that we allow to effect our lives, is indeed our very selves. we find influence, direction, guidance from friends, family members and complete strangers. we take judgment, we give judgment. we accept compliments, and we use our girlfriends as decoys to know whether he even has a second chance with us. we decipher signs, we signal our own. but if the approval doesn't ultimately come from ourselves, then it will never work. and that's what i've realized. i can have the most amazing, handsome and faith-filled man in my life, but if my heart doesn't agree with my head, then it will never be. and the scariest thing of all - i never thought that the one person i had to convince . . . would be myself.
i'm twenty one now, one year older and not much more mature. i have a new goldfish - much smaller, but still an experimentation. i have an excellent core of friends, both near and far. i have a family that waits on the porch for me everytime i am expected. and in that moment, i again seem to have it all.
i'm not sure if i have much advice, i'm not sure if i even have begun to make sense tonight. but, what i do know is this - if you have one wish, have a thousand. don't stop at just making one thing in your life happen, but make your life happen. find something that you love, someone who loves you, someone you can put all your interest in. don't rush into anything you are not comfortable with, because it's better to be sure of everything than to regret anything. don't judge anyone for the decisions he/she may make, because know that he/she is already fighting the hardest war of them all - one between hearts and minds. don't ever look down on anyone, and take pride in the decisions in your life that have made you be the person you are today. listen to a song on repeat (mine of course, is "one wish") and let your heart and your head battle it out - and for your own sake, don't let the two of these get in the way of potential happiness.
because what if we really do only get one wish?
. . . in that case, you better make it worthwhile.
this entry is sparked by dale (who i must say rocks), when he left me an instant message this morning saying: if he could only spend the rest of his life with one person, it would either be me or his best friend. i was flattered, and i still am. if i could only see one person for the rest of my life, who would it be?
yesterday, i was driving to work and as i rushed off the interstate and got stuck at the traffic light, i noticed the homeless man on the side of the road, directly to my left. he had torn shoes, ripped khakis, a faded polo and scruffy hair. the bookbag sat in the grass beside him and the infamous sign was perched at his waist. "need money, God bless." . . . if he had one wish, what would it be?
today, as i fulfilled my weekly role of soccer mom, taking tanner and his friend brian to soccer practice, my friend called me to chat about her day. in the process of talking to her, i was batting away tanner's hand from turning up the radio and calling out spelling words to riley in the backseat. "you are going to be such a mom," my friend said. "you think so?" i asked - kinda intrigued, kinda already knowing the answer. "linds, you are driving to soccer - you're probably late, and you are calling out spelling words on the way. you're going to be a great mom." if i had to design my life plan, what would it look like?
tonight, i came home to an empty apartment, grilled a smoked turkey hotdog and within five minutes was ready to watch some televsion. without hesitation, i plopped down on the couch and pushed my dvr on my taped programs. and like a broken record, i watched sex and the city, edited versions. samantha was showing off her new apartment in downtown manhattan - and while she sipped on wine with her three best friends, she said, "i have it all." i sat alone, sweet tea filled my glass, and i had no idea where any of my friends were. if i could have it all, what would "all" be?
now, i'm not your super romantic, and most of you probably know this by now - but i cannot help to wonder sometimes what my one wish would be, who my one person would be, what i would do with my life or even what classifies as having it all. within these two weeks, i have turned twenty one, rediscovered my social life, purchased new goldfish, bought an entire fall collection and to any sane person's opinion, neglected the opportunity to begin a relationship with an amazing guy.
it seems for the longest time, i have been trying to figure out my life: wanting so desperately to discover real friends, real love, real life, real faith. i wanted everything, at the cost of nothing. that road didn't get me much farther than a toliet-side funeral for five shiny goldfish, a date night with dvr, and watching the backside of one too many guys giving up and walking away. i wasn't sure which way to go, who to believe or even if the fault was mine. i called girlfriends, i cried - i pleaded with myself to change habits, figure out life and start afresh. but, still i sit here wondering why if everything is sitting right here in front of me, i can't accept it. why is it that when we are presented with so many things to make our lives better, we immediately run in the opposite direction? why don't we just allow ourselves to have it all, when all is sitting on our doorstep?
if i had one wish, i would do so many things. i would stand in the middle of a room full of insects and not freak out. i would go to the doctor and get shot without crying still. i would apply to law school in a mere attempt to strive at something out of the ordinary for a journalist. i would write a book today and sell it tomorrow. i would let myself fall in love.
for the longest time, my heart has battled with my mind about relationships. was i ready to get in one, were my feelings for some other guys diminished, could i handle exclusiveness? i wasn't, they weren't and i couldn't. but the one thing i could do was admit that to myself and to anyone on the potential roster. for a girl, no matter how hard we try to fall in love, if we aren't ready, there is not one thing in this world that can make us change our minds. roses, dinners, cards, servantitude, compliments - as wonderful and beautiful as all of them are, they fall short of the only person that stands in our way. ourselves.
i have discovered in these past two weeks, that the only person that we allow to effect our lives, is indeed our very selves. we find influence, direction, guidance from friends, family members and complete strangers. we take judgment, we give judgment. we accept compliments, and we use our girlfriends as decoys to know whether he even has a second chance with us. we decipher signs, we signal our own. but if the approval doesn't ultimately come from ourselves, then it will never work. and that's what i've realized. i can have the most amazing, handsome and faith-filled man in my life, but if my heart doesn't agree with my head, then it will never be. and the scariest thing of all - i never thought that the one person i had to convince . . . would be myself.
i'm twenty one now, one year older and not much more mature. i have a new goldfish - much smaller, but still an experimentation. i have an excellent core of friends, both near and far. i have a family that waits on the porch for me everytime i am expected. and in that moment, i again seem to have it all.
i'm not sure if i have much advice, i'm not sure if i even have begun to make sense tonight. but, what i do know is this - if you have one wish, have a thousand. don't stop at just making one thing in your life happen, but make your life happen. find something that you love, someone who loves you, someone you can put all your interest in. don't rush into anything you are not comfortable with, because it's better to be sure of everything than to regret anything. don't judge anyone for the decisions he/she may make, because know that he/she is already fighting the hardest war of them all - one between hearts and minds. don't ever look down on anyone, and take pride in the decisions in your life that have made you be the person you are today. listen to a song on repeat (mine of course, is "one wish") and let your heart and your head battle it out - and for your own sake, don't let the two of these get in the way of potential happiness.
because what if we really do only get one wish?
. . . in that case, you better make it worthwhile.
Monday, September 12, 2005
you mean i have to wait two more weeks?
i woke up this morning not feeling my normal self. and whereas any normal human being would have taken that as a sure shot not to have a great day, i went on due process. and it proved to be not a moment extraordinary. my three favorite teams have lost all of their opening games. for the second time in a week i have had car trouble in the same parking lot. the first time, my friend called me the very next day to say that i had jinxed him - he, too, had car trouble. today, this guy at my work told me that i had jinxed him - his teams also lost yesterday in their openers. after walking to my car in my brand-new and freshly scrapped nine west's, i felt the blisters forming on the heels of my feet. "if i can just get to my car," i thought.
well, that would have been nice had my car started.
so, again i sat in the wretched parking deck wondering how on earth i was supposed to deal with another episode of unexplanable car trouble. i called the house, no answer. i called mom and in the process my car cranked. fabulous. now i look like an idiot for claming i had car trouble. but, i decided to tell her anyway. (cue mistake number one. don't deal with things when you know you are going to be ill.) mom was of course happy and the very first words out of her mouth were - "HEY! we're hanging out with lauren right now."
now, did i really need to know that fact at that very moment?
of course not, and had it not been my mother... i would have slammed the phone down that very minute.
but instead, i talk to mom on the phone and tell her what would seem to any normal human being to be bad news. "oh, well i guess do what you can," she says.
do what i can?
was she really serious? and how was i supposed to do that? i sure as all wasn't about to risk either the lives of my feet, or my shoes in the upcoming week transporting myself sans my "faithful" explorer.
so dad gets the phone and without fail it's the obvious statement - "well, see what you can do this week. when we come up there this weekend, we'll just have to switch cars and i'll have to take yours home and get it looked at."
(again, i longed to slam the phone.)
see, my parents version of fixing everything is just that, fixing it. there is no "new version" in my family - for if you have it once, why do you need to get the bigger and better version? heaven forbid should we even believe in the advancement of technology and education.
computer - stone ages. still.
cars - wouldn't even consider buying a new one. let's just fix this one.
now, fine - if you wanna call that pratical thinking, let's think about this. is it really practical to spend $60 on getting a car home just to get it looked at when the triangle has the very same shops capable of looking at my outdated mode of transportation?
ah - there's the rub.
it is when there is a trading of carpentry work and fresh vegetables involved.
i made it home, clearly. and i'm not sure how, but it was after miraculously getting my car to start... and of course, slamming my phone.
moral of the story: i think i'm jinxed.
i need a martini.
well, that would have been nice had my car started.
so, again i sat in the wretched parking deck wondering how on earth i was supposed to deal with another episode of unexplanable car trouble. i called the house, no answer. i called mom and in the process my car cranked. fabulous. now i look like an idiot for claming i had car trouble. but, i decided to tell her anyway. (cue mistake number one. don't deal with things when you know you are going to be ill.) mom was of course happy and the very first words out of her mouth were - "HEY! we're hanging out with lauren right now."
now, did i really need to know that fact at that very moment?
of course not, and had it not been my mother... i would have slammed the phone down that very minute.
but instead, i talk to mom on the phone and tell her what would seem to any normal human being to be bad news. "oh, well i guess do what you can," she says.
do what i can?
was she really serious? and how was i supposed to do that? i sure as all wasn't about to risk either the lives of my feet, or my shoes in the upcoming week transporting myself sans my "faithful" explorer.
so dad gets the phone and without fail it's the obvious statement - "well, see what you can do this week. when we come up there this weekend, we'll just have to switch cars and i'll have to take yours home and get it looked at."
(again, i longed to slam the phone.)
see, my parents version of fixing everything is just that, fixing it. there is no "new version" in my family - for if you have it once, why do you need to get the bigger and better version? heaven forbid should we even believe in the advancement of technology and education.
computer - stone ages. still.
cars - wouldn't even consider buying a new one. let's just fix this one.
now, fine - if you wanna call that pratical thinking, let's think about this. is it really practical to spend $60 on getting a car home just to get it looked at when the triangle has the very same shops capable of looking at my outdated mode of transportation?
ah - there's the rub.
it is when there is a trading of carpentry work and fresh vegetables involved.
i made it home, clearly. and i'm not sure how, but it was after miraculously getting my car to start... and of course, slamming my phone.
moral of the story: i think i'm jinxed.
i need a martini.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
back home
it never fails, when you go to write a paper that actually will hold a letter grade, you start writing something without one. for some reason, my mind has failed to operate before a deadline. if it's not crunch time, i'm not going to get it done. i'm sitting here this morning attempting to write a sports feature story. granted, i am waiting on two out of my three sources to write me back, but with the two page response i've got from one should allow me to get somewhere without problem. come on, four years of yearbook has at least taught me how to write sans help from anyone outside of that world. yet, like usual, i sit here experiencing writer's block for the grade, and writing potential for the potentially bored readers of the web.
i really don't have a funny story today, nothing really exciting going on. but my hope is after procrastinating in hopes to entertain my lovely subscribers, i can find the rhetoric to perfect my column. (unfortunately kswan, there must be more in my world than just my carrie column.) but what i do have to leave you with today is a song. yeh, i know- you are all probably thinking, "what, linds can sing!"
(oh, don't act so suprised.)
but, now that i've given you all this wonderful set-up for a new song i've written, i'm going to have to deflate you all. it's not my song (because i don't write songs- ha), but it is one of my favorite artists. it's by the talented brian mcknight, called "home." (if you have the downloading capabilites, i recommend.)
here's some of the words:
"thinking back when we first met, i remember what you said. you said you'd never leave me. i let go of your hand, built my castle in the sand. but i'm reaching out my hand again, and i'm not letting go 'til you...
hold me, mold me.
so why don't you shape me, make me, wash me whiter than the snow.
i gotta find my way, back home."
in listening to this this morning (and do note, i would love to leave you all the words, but i know you will x the box), i started thinking about some things i've moved away from. i was reading anna's blog the other day, and she wrote about changes. i definitely think it's true, and most of us would agree that we undergo changes all the time. sometimes with our knowing (hair, makeup, even yes anna, clothes), but then there are other times we go through ones without our knowing. friends DO come and go, you stop worrying about things that used to drive you crazy, maybe you forget to cry or can't remember how to stop.
i'm sitting here this morning on another sunday that i didn't go to church, thinking what is it going to take for me to find my way back home? because while i may truly enjoy the person that i've become today, sometimes (on days like this) i can't help to wonder what happened to the baby girl who loved to be held, the little girl who wasn't afraid to say "hi" to a stranger, the teenager that always had a friend or five around her. now, i'm days away from turning twenty-one, sitting here in an apartment all of my own, looking out on this beautiful rememberance of a day, wondering where those inner pieces of me have flown away to. i know i'm just a girl, but sometimes i wish i had that spirit back where the comfort of another's arms, a conversation with a complete stranger, and the endless company of friends thrived amongst my growing up.
"i'm not going to rest until you choose me, use me. sometimes i feel so all alone. see i'm on my way back home. so why don't you, direct me, bless me, wash me whiter than the snow.... i'm on my way... back home."
i really don't have a funny story today, nothing really exciting going on. but my hope is after procrastinating in hopes to entertain my lovely subscribers, i can find the rhetoric to perfect my column. (unfortunately kswan, there must be more in my world than just my carrie column.) but what i do have to leave you with today is a song. yeh, i know- you are all probably thinking, "what, linds can sing!"
(oh, don't act so suprised.)
but, now that i've given you all this wonderful set-up for a new song i've written, i'm going to have to deflate you all. it's not my song (because i don't write songs- ha), but it is one of my favorite artists. it's by the talented brian mcknight, called "home." (if you have the downloading capabilites, i recommend.)
here's some of the words:
"thinking back when we first met, i remember what you said. you said you'd never leave me. i let go of your hand, built my castle in the sand. but i'm reaching out my hand again, and i'm not letting go 'til you...
hold me, mold me.
so why don't you shape me, make me, wash me whiter than the snow.
i gotta find my way, back home."
in listening to this this morning (and do note, i would love to leave you all the words, but i know you will x the box), i started thinking about some things i've moved away from. i was reading anna's blog the other day, and she wrote about changes. i definitely think it's true, and most of us would agree that we undergo changes all the time. sometimes with our knowing (hair, makeup, even yes anna, clothes), but then there are other times we go through ones without our knowing. friends DO come and go, you stop worrying about things that used to drive you crazy, maybe you forget to cry or can't remember how to stop.
i'm sitting here this morning on another sunday that i didn't go to church, thinking what is it going to take for me to find my way back home? because while i may truly enjoy the person that i've become today, sometimes (on days like this) i can't help to wonder what happened to the baby girl who loved to be held, the little girl who wasn't afraid to say "hi" to a stranger, the teenager that always had a friend or five around her. now, i'm days away from turning twenty-one, sitting here in an apartment all of my own, looking out on this beautiful rememberance of a day, wondering where those inner pieces of me have flown away to. i know i'm just a girl, but sometimes i wish i had that spirit back where the comfort of another's arms, a conversation with a complete stranger, and the endless company of friends thrived amongst my growing up.
"i'm not going to rest until you choose me, use me. sometimes i feel so all alone. see i'm on my way back home. so why don't you, direct me, bless me, wash me whiter than the snow.... i'm on my way... back home."
Friday, September 09, 2005
a girl's hustle & flow
so i have no idea why, but all day today ive been singing the song from "hustle and flow."
"you know its hard out here for a pimp..."
now, if you so choose- picture little, tanless white me in my silver stilletos with big curly black hair singing lyrics such as these. yeah, sometimes images aren't everything i know.
point is, it got me thinking.
sure, i guess if you wanna compare it to the real world of pimping (not the one i wrote about in my collegiate essay of players v. whores last term), then i can imagine it would be hard. -at least the movie made it look like a lifestyle i'm not aspiring to live. thing is, it might be hard out there for a pimp- but i recently have found its hard out here for a girl.
just now, im sitting at my computer desk with olay body quench lotion, cucumber melon nail polish remover, speed dry avon nail polish, a purple alligator (yes, because somewhere they MUST exist) nail kit, naturals peach lotion, and four (yes count them, one, two, three, four) different flavors of chapstick. for heaven's sake, this is just my computer desk.
i couldn't even begin to describe the products that remain in my purses, bags, drawers, cabinets, shower, counters and everywhere else for that matter. it seems everywhere you turn, i can fully represent another aisle of wal-mart. and i'll be honest- i am a sucker for a coupon, a "40% more free" label or a "NEW" item. why on earth if i know one product works just fine am i willing to waste money on the hope another one does justice?
yet, i do.
come on women, nod your head too.
and so yesterday, i was talking to mom on the phone when i got in my car to go home from school. turn the key, the car starts. the car turns off.
repeat.
repeat.
repeat.
great- trying to get me to diagnose a car problem is liking asking a boy what color eyes i have. so, of course- i perform my sound effects, all complete with the technical terminology of "this knob, that shape" in a mere effortless attempt to get home - because unlike miss simpson says, these boots weren't made for walking. thankfully, the good Lord above realized he allowed car trouble (that didn't include more gas or more oil) to happen to a girl.
it started.
yet, when talking to dad- he seemed to think he was explaining how to fix my car to his imaginary son. for a minute, i hung with him taking the phone off my ear to shine down into my engine. i couldn't see and the thought of wasting five bucks on a flashlight is worse than skipping dinner for a new necklace. upon doing this, i eventually realized i had forgotten to tell dad to hold on. ergo, i heard none of my technical instructions.
today, i unlock my apartment to realize it won't open. i had unlocked the door- i knew i wasn't that stupid. but i couldn't for the life of me get it open. finally, i forced all my weight onto the door and magically it sprang open, throwing me and my belongings across the room. after regaining composure, i noticed the vinyl floor was scratched up- and in the kitchen the same thing.
the only thing that kept me from breaking into fury was the sight of a beautiful new dishwasher after a week of "rolling up my sleeves" as kayne says. of course, before it broke i had called one of my friends to try to get help on how to fix it. after he too, told me one too many technical terms i was like "whatever. maintenance can fix it."
then tonight, two young boys show up at my doorstep with a school fundraiser. "please help us earn money so we can go to the party," they said sad faces perfected. of course, i promised myself a long time ago i would never turn down a kid's fundraiser because one too many times did people turn down mine.
glamour, meet your latest subscriber.
so, i was thinking after i had written this things would be ok- and i wouldn’t be as whinny as i had made my journal entry sound. (this is a different day now because i got lazy -aka writer's block- last night and didn't finish) today, i woke up after my usual thirty minutes of snooze time to a rather uncomfortable room temperature. i didn't really think much about it and went on to get ready now just shy of being late. i started straightening my hair, and after almost breaking out in work-out sweat- i figured out something was going on. there was no way my little glorified iron was making me this hot this early in the morning.
i went to check my thermostat, and sure enough- the temperature had risen from my preferred 68 degrees to a near 77. hmmm... the too far and few buttons on my out-dated piece of technology didn't seem to offer much insight to the situation. hence, my doing what any normal girl would do- i slung the bar all the way down to the 60 mark... and walked out the door.
brrr.
it was quite nippy out.
at work, i decided to shoot my maintenance staff yet another email. (i figured they would either love or hate me - and upon offering them sweet tea every time they visit, i’m hoping to swing their vote.) work was carelessly boring and when the staff one by one sneaked out for lunch, i quickly decided to do the same thing.
it is friday.
i’m not paid.
ring the bell for early dismissal.
long story short (you're thinking- that would have been nice 5,000 words ago), i come home after taking the afternoon of work off in order to go fall shopping (again) to an apartment of 90 degrees. people- this is NOT an exaggeration. immediately i was in a sauna, and sweat filled my face. every light in the house was on to add to the problem causing me to quickly strip down all the while praying to the good Lord someone more qualified than myself was present and taking care of the problem.
he is here, but ive been home for over one hour now...
...the heat's still on.
you know its hard out here for a pimp.
"you know its hard out here for a pimp..."
now, if you so choose- picture little, tanless white me in my silver stilletos with big curly black hair singing lyrics such as these. yeah, sometimes images aren't everything i know.
point is, it got me thinking.
sure, i guess if you wanna compare it to the real world of pimping (not the one i wrote about in my collegiate essay of players v. whores last term), then i can imagine it would be hard. -at least the movie made it look like a lifestyle i'm not aspiring to live. thing is, it might be hard out there for a pimp- but i recently have found its hard out here for a girl.
just now, im sitting at my computer desk with olay body quench lotion, cucumber melon nail polish remover, speed dry avon nail polish, a purple alligator (yes, because somewhere they MUST exist) nail kit, naturals peach lotion, and four (yes count them, one, two, three, four) different flavors of chapstick. for heaven's sake, this is just my computer desk.
i couldn't even begin to describe the products that remain in my purses, bags, drawers, cabinets, shower, counters and everywhere else for that matter. it seems everywhere you turn, i can fully represent another aisle of wal-mart. and i'll be honest- i am a sucker for a coupon, a "40% more free" label or a "NEW" item. why on earth if i know one product works just fine am i willing to waste money on the hope another one does justice?
yet, i do.
come on women, nod your head too.
and so yesterday, i was talking to mom on the phone when i got in my car to go home from school. turn the key, the car starts. the car turns off.
repeat.
repeat.
repeat.
great- trying to get me to diagnose a car problem is liking asking a boy what color eyes i have. so, of course- i perform my sound effects, all complete with the technical terminology of "this knob, that shape" in a mere effortless attempt to get home - because unlike miss simpson says, these boots weren't made for walking. thankfully, the good Lord above realized he allowed car trouble (that didn't include more gas or more oil) to happen to a girl.
it started.
yet, when talking to dad- he seemed to think he was explaining how to fix my car to his imaginary son. for a minute, i hung with him taking the phone off my ear to shine down into my engine. i couldn't see and the thought of wasting five bucks on a flashlight is worse than skipping dinner for a new necklace. upon doing this, i eventually realized i had forgotten to tell dad to hold on. ergo, i heard none of my technical instructions.
today, i unlock my apartment to realize it won't open. i had unlocked the door- i knew i wasn't that stupid. but i couldn't for the life of me get it open. finally, i forced all my weight onto the door and magically it sprang open, throwing me and my belongings across the room. after regaining composure, i noticed the vinyl floor was scratched up- and in the kitchen the same thing.
the only thing that kept me from breaking into fury was the sight of a beautiful new dishwasher after a week of "rolling up my sleeves" as kayne says. of course, before it broke i had called one of my friends to try to get help on how to fix it. after he too, told me one too many technical terms i was like "whatever. maintenance can fix it."
then tonight, two young boys show up at my doorstep with a school fundraiser. "please help us earn money so we can go to the party," they said sad faces perfected. of course, i promised myself a long time ago i would never turn down a kid's fundraiser because one too many times did people turn down mine.
glamour, meet your latest subscriber.
so, i was thinking after i had written this things would be ok- and i wouldn’t be as whinny as i had made my journal entry sound. (this is a different day now because i got lazy -aka writer's block- last night and didn't finish) today, i woke up after my usual thirty minutes of snooze time to a rather uncomfortable room temperature. i didn't really think much about it and went on to get ready now just shy of being late. i started straightening my hair, and after almost breaking out in work-out sweat- i figured out something was going on. there was no way my little glorified iron was making me this hot this early in the morning.
i went to check my thermostat, and sure enough- the temperature had risen from my preferred 68 degrees to a near 77. hmmm... the too far and few buttons on my out-dated piece of technology didn't seem to offer much insight to the situation. hence, my doing what any normal girl would do- i slung the bar all the way down to the 60 mark... and walked out the door.
brrr.
it was quite nippy out.
at work, i decided to shoot my maintenance staff yet another email. (i figured they would either love or hate me - and upon offering them sweet tea every time they visit, i’m hoping to swing their vote.) work was carelessly boring and when the staff one by one sneaked out for lunch, i quickly decided to do the same thing.
it is friday.
i’m not paid.
ring the bell for early dismissal.
long story short (you're thinking- that would have been nice 5,000 words ago), i come home after taking the afternoon of work off in order to go fall shopping (again) to an apartment of 90 degrees. people- this is NOT an exaggeration. immediately i was in a sauna, and sweat filled my face. every light in the house was on to add to the problem causing me to quickly strip down all the while praying to the good Lord someone more qualified than myself was present and taking care of the problem.
he is here, but ive been home for over one hour now...
...the heat's still on.
you know its hard out here for a pimp.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
for better or worse
immediately after getting flustered with one of my friends just the other day, i called my go-to girl for some on the spot pick-me-up advice. maybe just a laugh. maybe a "he'll eventually get over himself and call you back." maybe a "grow-up and get over it." something. and without fail, she came through. (hence the reason she's my go-to girl.) it's quotable advice, and therefore the reasoning behind this entry:
"he's a friend- and for better or worse. ...he was just showing a little worse tonight."
that's it. it's like she had solved the world's biggest puzzle. why is it that when we meet someone we expect them to be perfect on all regards? appearance, personality, rhetoric, hygiene, past, present and future. we find one flaw, one imperfection and we are second-guessing our entire exsistence within the relationship. problem is, it doesn't work that way. we all have our bad hair days, short tempers, and all too familiar lingering pasts.
friday, as the younger member of my work's staff was leaving for lunch- he stopped by my "office" (fancy name for desk area) to give me his phone number. "call me today. we'll do something tonight," he said. all of which left me puzzled wondering what in the world i had said that suggested my singleness of a life, or my interest for that matter? but he was forward and it was in a sense, his imperfection. and although i never called him that day, it was the sweetest thing.
the only thing i thought that day on the way home was "what was he thinking? you can't date your intern!"
sunday, i sat in church service beside my gq of a friend during a sermon of compassion amongst racism. of course, it was a direct effect of hurricane katrina, but for some reason every word punctured my soul like i had never known possible. i'll be the first to admit- for the past week, my only friend has been cnn. i have been plastered to the television like a bug on a windshield. and it wasn't until friday afternoon, i realized the depression that had set in my life. in this one week, i had secluded myself from my friends, my work, my family, my world. i wanted to help those i never knew, yet i never knew how. i wept that entire service- imperfections or not, these were and are people that need help. and now.
for better or worse, it's not just for marriage anymore.
"he's a friend- and for better or worse. ...he was just showing a little worse tonight."
that's it. it's like she had solved the world's biggest puzzle. why is it that when we meet someone we expect them to be perfect on all regards? appearance, personality, rhetoric, hygiene, past, present and future. we find one flaw, one imperfection and we are second-guessing our entire exsistence within the relationship. problem is, it doesn't work that way. we all have our bad hair days, short tempers, and all too familiar lingering pasts.
friday, as the younger member of my work's staff was leaving for lunch- he stopped by my "office" (fancy name for desk area) to give me his phone number. "call me today. we'll do something tonight," he said. all of which left me puzzled wondering what in the world i had said that suggested my singleness of a life, or my interest for that matter? but he was forward and it was in a sense, his imperfection. and although i never called him that day, it was the sweetest thing.
the only thing i thought that day on the way home was "what was he thinking? you can't date your intern!"
sunday, i sat in church service beside my gq of a friend during a sermon of compassion amongst racism. of course, it was a direct effect of hurricane katrina, but for some reason every word punctured my soul like i had never known possible. i'll be the first to admit- for the past week, my only friend has been cnn. i have been plastered to the television like a bug on a windshield. and it wasn't until friday afternoon, i realized the depression that had set in my life. in this one week, i had secluded myself from my friends, my work, my family, my world. i wanted to help those i never knew, yet i never knew how. i wept that entire service- imperfections or not, these were and are people that need help. and now.
for better or worse, it's not just for marriage anymore.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
the truth is
whereas i should be sitting here doing homework because my desk is buried amongst papers, cnn in the background continues to steal my attention. of course, there is no need to repeat of the tragedy that has taken place over the past few days in the united states, but i cant help but tear up over the drama of hurricane katrina and her aftermath.
friday, a student and staff columnist of the school's paper (the technician) wrote an opinion piece (key word) on sorority girls. he titled his piece "sorostitutes: the weak and the wounded" and after name-calling and stereotyping, he caused a riot on my campus early this week. students were enraged by his words, writing back columns, contacting lawyers for legal guidance, and talking with journalism professors about the ethical guidelines of the student newspaper. yesterday, the newspaper was flooded with "letters to the editor," some in support of the article, others just mainly pointing their own fingers. in my law class, we "debated" (i sat and listened while my lawyer of a professor highly ticked off the sorority girls in class) the issue for a good twenty minutes. today, when i picked up the newspaper, the front cover was full of girls in red shirts saying "go greek" all holding signs in a campus-wide protest that took place monday afternoon at 4:30pm. the girls weren't allowed to speak, but they were allowed to bring signs and applaud and cheer those who were. i didnt go, and i dont regret that decision.
however, today in journalism class i walked in and sat down beside a "go greek" girl rhetorically brawling it out with a non-greek girl who supported the penmanship of this particular columnist. the sorority girl, of course, used her usual "how would like it if someone said this, this and this about you..." whereas the average girl responded, "everyone gets things said about them. move on and stop worrying about it."
truth is, you most likely knew these stereotypes when you joined the sorority. same ways you hear blondes are dumb, left-handers are freaky and redheads are odd balls. (for the record, i am left-handed.) basically, all in all im saying is things get said no matter what. he had the right to say it, you have the right to respond. move on.
but i didnt want to start writing this in an attempt to stir up another riot, for the same reason that i dont talk to students on campus about this outcry of womens equality (or whatever you want to call it.) but, the non-greek girl made a very valid point today. she said "dont you think we have something better that we could be discussing?"
and truth is, we do.
if you make a product and send it out to a hundred people, and 75 of those people hate it, they are going to tell 75 others how bad it is. however, those 25 people who actually like the product, may only get around to telling a handful of others. (its something ive picked up working in the business world.)
why is it that we are more likely to point out our flaws (or someone elses for that matter) a thousand times over the successes in life?
today, hundreds of people are dying at the hands of a natural disaster. when the tsunami hit sri lanka in december, the world tuned in day and night to watch the disaster unfold. i remember crying over the stories, writing checks and wondering what i could do to help. today, there are thousands of people, thousands of americans, without homes- some standing on top of them waiting to be rescued, some not sure if they ever will be. one man has killed himself, jumping off the 2nd level of the superdome where over 50,000 people are present without power, food, water, anything. just a minute ago, i sat and watched as two children under the age of 4 were placed into a wire basket no bigger than a shopping cart and lifted off the top of a rooftop up toward a u.s. coast guard helicopter. my heart stopped.
yes, we're concerned about the price of gas going up, and yes no one wants to deal with it- but isnt there something more important in life today? i promised i wouldnt take a political stand, and only use my blog to whine if i entertained, but the truth is- today my compassion level is shattered because in the heart of the united states, disaster has taken precedence. im not urging you to do anything whereas im not sure what we can even do, but i am asking you to break away from the greek riots and other childish things and turn on the tv to see what really is happening in the world- in your world.
and maybe, just maybe you too will realize that boat shoes and popped up collars dont matter at all.
friday, a student and staff columnist of the school's paper (the technician) wrote an opinion piece (key word) on sorority girls. he titled his piece "sorostitutes: the weak and the wounded" and after name-calling and stereotyping, he caused a riot on my campus early this week. students were enraged by his words, writing back columns, contacting lawyers for legal guidance, and talking with journalism professors about the ethical guidelines of the student newspaper. yesterday, the newspaper was flooded with "letters to the editor," some in support of the article, others just mainly pointing their own fingers. in my law class, we "debated" (i sat and listened while my lawyer of a professor highly ticked off the sorority girls in class) the issue for a good twenty minutes. today, when i picked up the newspaper, the front cover was full of girls in red shirts saying "go greek" all holding signs in a campus-wide protest that took place monday afternoon at 4:30pm. the girls weren't allowed to speak, but they were allowed to bring signs and applaud and cheer those who were. i didnt go, and i dont regret that decision.
however, today in journalism class i walked in and sat down beside a "go greek" girl rhetorically brawling it out with a non-greek girl who supported the penmanship of this particular columnist. the sorority girl, of course, used her usual "how would like it if someone said this, this and this about you..." whereas the average girl responded, "everyone gets things said about them. move on and stop worrying about it."
truth is, you most likely knew these stereotypes when you joined the sorority. same ways you hear blondes are dumb, left-handers are freaky and redheads are odd balls. (for the record, i am left-handed.) basically, all in all im saying is things get said no matter what. he had the right to say it, you have the right to respond. move on.
but i didnt want to start writing this in an attempt to stir up another riot, for the same reason that i dont talk to students on campus about this outcry of womens equality (or whatever you want to call it.) but, the non-greek girl made a very valid point today. she said "dont you think we have something better that we could be discussing?"
and truth is, we do.
if you make a product and send it out to a hundred people, and 75 of those people hate it, they are going to tell 75 others how bad it is. however, those 25 people who actually like the product, may only get around to telling a handful of others. (its something ive picked up working in the business world.)
why is it that we are more likely to point out our flaws (or someone elses for that matter) a thousand times over the successes in life?
today, hundreds of people are dying at the hands of a natural disaster. when the tsunami hit sri lanka in december, the world tuned in day and night to watch the disaster unfold. i remember crying over the stories, writing checks and wondering what i could do to help. today, there are thousands of people, thousands of americans, without homes- some standing on top of them waiting to be rescued, some not sure if they ever will be. one man has killed himself, jumping off the 2nd level of the superdome where over 50,000 people are present without power, food, water, anything. just a minute ago, i sat and watched as two children under the age of 4 were placed into a wire basket no bigger than a shopping cart and lifted off the top of a rooftop up toward a u.s. coast guard helicopter. my heart stopped.
yes, we're concerned about the price of gas going up, and yes no one wants to deal with it- but isnt there something more important in life today? i promised i wouldnt take a political stand, and only use my blog to whine if i entertained, but the truth is- today my compassion level is shattered because in the heart of the united states, disaster has taken precedence. im not urging you to do anything whereas im not sure what we can even do, but i am asking you to break away from the greek riots and other childish things and turn on the tv to see what really is happening in the world- in your world.
and maybe, just maybe you too will realize that boat shoes and popped up collars dont matter at all.
Monday, August 29, 2005
you can have my cake and eat it too
it was 12:30 in the morning and my friend had just im me. “i’m coming to visit you. i’m on my way.” sadly enough, my first thought wasn’t “sweet, i have company coming,” but instead, “oh no- you can’t do that. i’ve got to go to sleep now.”
today in class, my friend who sits behind me taps me on the shoulder and says, "we're having birthday cake at my house tonight. you should come by." i smiled and nodded then turned around thinking "get real linds, you don't have time for cake. you can have my cake and eat it too."
after class, i got a phonecall. "come to dinner with us. eight o'clock sharp. don't be late." i wondered if i should just pretend i never got the message or call him back with a random excuse i pulled out of a hat. "um, i have a major headache and i think i need to lay down." "my mom just called and talked so long i forgot what time it was." or the beloved "i have car trouble."
truth is, i had car trouble. gas was too freakin' expensive to even consider driving somewhere to pay for something else. the news talks about gas "soon to become a hardship for people." soon to become? hell, what type of people were they talking about? ceo's, presidents and bank owners? since i bought my handy-dandy ford guzzling of an explorer oh so many years ago, its been a hardship. the only thing was 20 bucks used to do the job fueling my car and fueling me. now, im spending 50 bucks just to get to the next gas station. where was my bike when i needed it?
why is it that we work to buy gas to get back to work?
why is it that we work to make money to spend time with friends, yet when it comes time to spend with friends, we have to go back to work?
its true, i am lazy and the thought of driving somewhere extra sometimes doesnt excite me at all. sometimes i prefer just to come home, put on pajamas, hang out with my dvr and wait on my phone to ring. but it never fails, that when i get that phonecall to hang out, im just "too tired to go." where oh where, has my social life gone?
for the night, i wasn't so sure. but i knew one thing- i sat quitely at my dinner table alone with a plate of veggies in the comfort of my home and pajamas, the vmas were recorded and ready to be watched on dvr, birthday cake remained hidden in the fridge, and somewhere close by was my phone just waitng to ring.
today in class, my friend who sits behind me taps me on the shoulder and says, "we're having birthday cake at my house tonight. you should come by." i smiled and nodded then turned around thinking "get real linds, you don't have time for cake. you can have my cake and eat it too."
after class, i got a phonecall. "come to dinner with us. eight o'clock sharp. don't be late." i wondered if i should just pretend i never got the message or call him back with a random excuse i pulled out of a hat. "um, i have a major headache and i think i need to lay down." "my mom just called and talked so long i forgot what time it was." or the beloved "i have car trouble."
truth is, i had car trouble. gas was too freakin' expensive to even consider driving somewhere to pay for something else. the news talks about gas "soon to become a hardship for people." soon to become? hell, what type of people were they talking about? ceo's, presidents and bank owners? since i bought my handy-dandy ford guzzling of an explorer oh so many years ago, its been a hardship. the only thing was 20 bucks used to do the job fueling my car and fueling me. now, im spending 50 bucks just to get to the next gas station. where was my bike when i needed it?
why is it that we work to buy gas to get back to work?
why is it that we work to make money to spend time with friends, yet when it comes time to spend with friends, we have to go back to work?
its true, i am lazy and the thought of driving somewhere extra sometimes doesnt excite me at all. sometimes i prefer just to come home, put on pajamas, hang out with my dvr and wait on my phone to ring. but it never fails, that when i get that phonecall to hang out, im just "too tired to go." where oh where, has my social life gone?
for the night, i wasn't so sure. but i knew one thing- i sat quitely at my dinner table alone with a plate of veggies in the comfort of my home and pajamas, the vmas were recorded and ready to be watched on dvr, birthday cake remained hidden in the fridge, and somewhere close by was my phone just waitng to ring.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
and then there were none
a little over a week ago, i decided that life sans a roommate wasn't all it was prepped up to be. never did anyone want to talk, laugh or cry- and the thought of having a slightly empty refrigerator never made dinner time exciting. therefore, i did what any normal, and might i add sane, single twenty-something girl would do to solve the solo situation. about twenty minutes later, i proudly owned five bright orange goldfish, all yet to be named. leaving petsmart with my individually charged 25 cents goldfish (thanks to the one cent reduction unexpectedly given at the register due to my petsperk card), i thought i had just made the best relationship decision possible. they would listen to me without tuning me out, and never would i have to listen to them. a one sided relationship- sounded perfect to me.
one by one, my planned failed. my dearest friends and relationship companions, decided living a life built around me wasn't necessarily their idea of paradise. granted- paradise consisting of swimming in a rectangle bowl with sharp black rocks at the bottom couldn't be joyous anyway. (maybe i should have used vodka instead of water allowing them to at least drink their sorrows away.) yet as the days were ripped off my calendar my buddies slowly drifted to the top. at first, i blamed my inability to keep a relationship on abandonment. had i really fed them or did i just walk away forgetting? when had i last purified their water? then around and around, i watched ex number one go down the drain.
all of this led me to think about my actual relationships in life. was it possible that we tend to make our relationships with other people based on the idea of making ourselves happy? are we in them to benefit just us or are we in them to benefit both persons involved? and if the relationship isn't working- do we work on it or simply abandon it?
i had a close friend one time that loved to make relationships based on his success. and for the longest time, i somehow managed to follow along, taking him places, buying him things, doing things with no importance to mine own. i thought i was happy, i realized one check too late that i had been picked in order to complete his one sided relationship. when he got tired of me, he simply abandoned me leaving me wondering what in the world had just happened. he was the owner, and i was the stupid goldfish.
so when i saw that buddy number one was no more, i decided to step up my involvement in the relationship and pay particular attention to their needs. had they been fed? check. was their water clean? semi-check. did i leave the light on for them? check, and i was even paying the electricity bill. surely, this relationship would work now-
it didn’t. two and three died the next day.
so i went back to my relationship analogy- is it possible that when a relationship isn't working, we simply spice it up a little bit with things we really aren't interested in doing at all? like the time you get in a fight with your girlfriend and she says "i hate when you wear that shirt. it's hideous and i don't know why you like it." you wouldn't even consider wearing it the next time you went out- would you? or your boyfriend calls you one night and he's like, "you know what- i just don't think you enjoy me nearly as much as i enjoy you." so you do what you think you're expected to do, and you immediately start flooding the conversation with over-produced love proclamations and actions that you hope will work. but is doing anything that you wouldn't naturally do mean that you care or love him or her more? in a relationship, should you really need to prove you care?
the next day, i was positive things were going to go well. my two remaining goldfish were swimming around and drinking water all day long. they looked healthy and however a goldfish is supposed to look when they are happy, they looked. i fed them, i leaned on my counter and watched them; i felt like even saying "hello" to them would make them want to live even longer.
four died.
at this point, im thinking anything that gets close to me dies and i fear for company to even walk in my haunted house. for heaven's sake, i can't even keep a one-sided relationship going and all these stupid things require is a little food and a lot of water.
no love, per say, needed.
that’s when i decided maybe love is exactly what this relationship needed.
"the most important thing in life is to love and be loved in return."
so without further ado, i expressed love in the only way how- by naming my lone ranger.
uno.
you see, i have this underlined policy that you don't name anything you don't want to get close to. it started with baby dolls back when in childhood, carried on to pets and even into material things (i.e. ben my computer). in my world, if it gets a special name, it’s just simply that. special.
so it was destiny, uno was going to live because he had moved over into the specialized name ranking. that night, i went out to dinner with three friends and one new one for some social interaction beyond my walls. i don't think i shut-up the entire evening and my smile couldn't be contained due to the excitement the evening with respectable friends endured. in that moment, i had someone to talk to- including someone who would tune me out when my stories bored, someone to laugh with and someone to listen to. all of which i then understood were life's commodities we often took for granted.
when we came home that evening, i watched out of the corner of my eye little uno start to dwindle. for a minute, i sat there and watched, wondering why my last love was going to die in company of my company. then we tried to revitalize him, taking him out of his environment and placing him in a smaller, cleaner one for the evening. he started to swim around in the small space and i truly believed he was going to survive. therefore, i continued to enjoy the evening with my friends.
this morning, uno too had left his paradise and my world. and like a bad fight, there was no explanation to his exit. but that’s ok, because the relationship was one-sided and they didn't want to commit.
all of this, leads me to my point. maybe if we can't find someone to commit to the person we are today, then they aren't going to like the person we are tomorrow. if we can't find someone who will take us for our bad shirts, our unsaid compliments, our imperfections in addition to our strengths, then maybe it's a relationship we shouldn't even begin to initiate. while i may be one willing to change, i don't think that we should allow ourselves to end up in something that doesn't benefit both of us, every minute of everyday. because like the ceo and president of cross advertising told me just the other day, "if you can't live your life everyday thinking this day was worth every minute of my time, then what's the point of waking up?"
and sometimes it may take the lesson in five cheap goldfish to obtain the value in four special friends.
one by one, my planned failed. my dearest friends and relationship companions, decided living a life built around me wasn't necessarily their idea of paradise. granted- paradise consisting of swimming in a rectangle bowl with sharp black rocks at the bottom couldn't be joyous anyway. (maybe i should have used vodka instead of water allowing them to at least drink their sorrows away.) yet as the days were ripped off my calendar my buddies slowly drifted to the top. at first, i blamed my inability to keep a relationship on abandonment. had i really fed them or did i just walk away forgetting? when had i last purified their water? then around and around, i watched ex number one go down the drain.
all of this led me to think about my actual relationships in life. was it possible that we tend to make our relationships with other people based on the idea of making ourselves happy? are we in them to benefit just us or are we in them to benefit both persons involved? and if the relationship isn't working- do we work on it or simply abandon it?
i had a close friend one time that loved to make relationships based on his success. and for the longest time, i somehow managed to follow along, taking him places, buying him things, doing things with no importance to mine own. i thought i was happy, i realized one check too late that i had been picked in order to complete his one sided relationship. when he got tired of me, he simply abandoned me leaving me wondering what in the world had just happened. he was the owner, and i was the stupid goldfish.
so when i saw that buddy number one was no more, i decided to step up my involvement in the relationship and pay particular attention to their needs. had they been fed? check. was their water clean? semi-check. did i leave the light on for them? check, and i was even paying the electricity bill. surely, this relationship would work now-
it didn’t. two and three died the next day.
so i went back to my relationship analogy- is it possible that when a relationship isn't working, we simply spice it up a little bit with things we really aren't interested in doing at all? like the time you get in a fight with your girlfriend and she says "i hate when you wear that shirt. it's hideous and i don't know why you like it." you wouldn't even consider wearing it the next time you went out- would you? or your boyfriend calls you one night and he's like, "you know what- i just don't think you enjoy me nearly as much as i enjoy you." so you do what you think you're expected to do, and you immediately start flooding the conversation with over-produced love proclamations and actions that you hope will work. but is doing anything that you wouldn't naturally do mean that you care or love him or her more? in a relationship, should you really need to prove you care?
the next day, i was positive things were going to go well. my two remaining goldfish were swimming around and drinking water all day long. they looked healthy and however a goldfish is supposed to look when they are happy, they looked. i fed them, i leaned on my counter and watched them; i felt like even saying "hello" to them would make them want to live even longer.
four died.
at this point, im thinking anything that gets close to me dies and i fear for company to even walk in my haunted house. for heaven's sake, i can't even keep a one-sided relationship going and all these stupid things require is a little food and a lot of water.
no love, per say, needed.
that’s when i decided maybe love is exactly what this relationship needed.
"the most important thing in life is to love and be loved in return."
so without further ado, i expressed love in the only way how- by naming my lone ranger.
uno.
you see, i have this underlined policy that you don't name anything you don't want to get close to. it started with baby dolls back when in childhood, carried on to pets and even into material things (i.e. ben my computer). in my world, if it gets a special name, it’s just simply that. special.
so it was destiny, uno was going to live because he had moved over into the specialized name ranking. that night, i went out to dinner with three friends and one new one for some social interaction beyond my walls. i don't think i shut-up the entire evening and my smile couldn't be contained due to the excitement the evening with respectable friends endured. in that moment, i had someone to talk to- including someone who would tune me out when my stories bored, someone to laugh with and someone to listen to. all of which i then understood were life's commodities we often took for granted.
when we came home that evening, i watched out of the corner of my eye little uno start to dwindle. for a minute, i sat there and watched, wondering why my last love was going to die in company of my company. then we tried to revitalize him, taking him out of his environment and placing him in a smaller, cleaner one for the evening. he started to swim around in the small space and i truly believed he was going to survive. therefore, i continued to enjoy the evening with my friends.
this morning, uno too had left his paradise and my world. and like a bad fight, there was no explanation to his exit. but that’s ok, because the relationship was one-sided and they didn't want to commit.
all of this, leads me to my point. maybe if we can't find someone to commit to the person we are today, then they aren't going to like the person we are tomorrow. if we can't find someone who will take us for our bad shirts, our unsaid compliments, our imperfections in addition to our strengths, then maybe it's a relationship we shouldn't even begin to initiate. while i may be one willing to change, i don't think that we should allow ourselves to end up in something that doesn't benefit both of us, every minute of everyday. because like the ceo and president of cross advertising told me just the other day, "if you can't live your life everyday thinking this day was worth every minute of my time, then what's the point of waking up?"
and sometimes it may take the lesson in five cheap goldfish to obtain the value in four special friends.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
thirty imaginary friends
it was three o’clock on the dot and i sat in my desk panting after practically sprinting to class. (ok, i lied. i definitely don’t sprint and running late is nothing out of the ordinary for me. but i figured second day impressions were still under evaluation so i try.)
by three fifteen, impatient upperclassmen are looking at their watches and wondering what is going on. what day is it? what time is it? am i in the right classroom? do i recognize any of these people? it’s then, the uncomfortable shuffling for schedules begins whereby of course, i observe everything because i know that these same students will never be so bold as to pull out a schedule in a room of upperclassmen. i hear it’s the ultimate social suicide.
so they quietly unzip book bags and purses, lean down close to their belongings (always with that confused head tilt) acting as if they are simply looking for a pen lost within their perfect organization of the bag. because heaven forbid should they even attempt open that classic, wrinkled and folded twice white piece of paper (or even turn it upright for that matter), so instead they will just guesstimate on what course, day, time and room they belong in.
eventually, they sigh in relief knowing they are in the right room.
social suicide avoided.
(so they think.)
by three twenty, the understood yet undefined rule of giving up on a professor is unofficially enacted as one student throws his notebook into his bag, zips it up while slinging it over his shoulder and storms out of the room as almost in a protest to say: “well forget this! i’ll show him who’s boss- i’m out of here.”
if only the actual professor had been there to witness this over-dramatized gesture.
but second by second, students drop like flies and i watch as the class dwindles from thirty... to twenty... to ten.
why on earth am i still even sitting here?
oh right, because i was late and now i’m mad that i rushed at all.
so as the story goes, just when i was preparing my oscar winning performance of stomping out of the classroom in a crazed state to out perform the original, my dear law professor of whom i love so much appeared in the doorway with the sincerest apologies.
why, oh, why does it always unfold that way?
i looked around the room in sheer disbelief after concluding i was soon to be stuck with the remaining six fellow classmates whom i had intentionally labeled as the annoying intellectuals that screw up the twenty minute “no show, no go” rule.
then i realized i was the seventh member of the club.
i was mortified.
had i really sunk to the level of becoming the very student prototype i despised?
i shook off the thought (knowing it was most likely true) and continued to gather my belongings. there was no way my professor was going to teach class with seven out of forty students present, 45 minutes into a 75 minute lecture.
apparently i was wrong.
wouldn’t have been the first time today.
he gave notes, he gave a lecture.
he even took role.
twenty minutes later, my irritated look was replaced by one of bafflement. had i seriously just sat through a law lecture with a handful of other “i’m the good student because i am here to learn no matter what” students?
i had and i did.
social suicide achieved.
thus, i pulled out my schedule and walked into the hallway.
by three fifteen, impatient upperclassmen are looking at their watches and wondering what is going on. what day is it? what time is it? am i in the right classroom? do i recognize any of these people? it’s then, the uncomfortable shuffling for schedules begins whereby of course, i observe everything because i know that these same students will never be so bold as to pull out a schedule in a room of upperclassmen. i hear it’s the ultimate social suicide.
so they quietly unzip book bags and purses, lean down close to their belongings (always with that confused head tilt) acting as if they are simply looking for a pen lost within their perfect organization of the bag. because heaven forbid should they even attempt open that classic, wrinkled and folded twice white piece of paper (or even turn it upright for that matter), so instead they will just guesstimate on what course, day, time and room they belong in.
eventually, they sigh in relief knowing they are in the right room.
social suicide avoided.
(so they think.)
by three twenty, the understood yet undefined rule of giving up on a professor is unofficially enacted as one student throws his notebook into his bag, zips it up while slinging it over his shoulder and storms out of the room as almost in a protest to say: “well forget this! i’ll show him who’s boss- i’m out of here.”
if only the actual professor had been there to witness this over-dramatized gesture.
but second by second, students drop like flies and i watch as the class dwindles from thirty... to twenty... to ten.
why on earth am i still even sitting here?
oh right, because i was late and now i’m mad that i rushed at all.
so as the story goes, just when i was preparing my oscar winning performance of stomping out of the classroom in a crazed state to out perform the original, my dear law professor of whom i love so much appeared in the doorway with the sincerest apologies.
why, oh, why does it always unfold that way?
i looked around the room in sheer disbelief after concluding i was soon to be stuck with the remaining six fellow classmates whom i had intentionally labeled as the annoying intellectuals that screw up the twenty minute “no show, no go” rule.
then i realized i was the seventh member of the club.
i was mortified.
had i really sunk to the level of becoming the very student prototype i despised?
i shook off the thought (knowing it was most likely true) and continued to gather my belongings. there was no way my professor was going to teach class with seven out of forty students present, 45 minutes into a 75 minute lecture.
apparently i was wrong.
wouldn’t have been the first time today.
he gave notes, he gave a lecture.
he even took role.
twenty minutes later, my irritated look was replaced by one of bafflement. had i seriously just sat through a law lecture with a handful of other “i’m the good student because i am here to learn no matter what” students?
i had and i did.
social suicide achieved.
thus, i pulled out my schedule and walked into the hallway.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)