02 10 / 2013
Ex’s can’t be friends.
Now before the masses get all particular in their opinions, I shall note that this viewpoint of mine is strictly that. Mine.
Let’s assume that all has went according to “plan”; I saw you, I liked you, I loved you, I lost you; or we lost us…now here we are caught in purgatory between our heart and our mind. We can’t be friends because the typical thought of “one person always has more feelings than the other” starts floating around. Deal, I agree. We can’t be friends because well someone in this mix just plain hates the other. Well double deal, because then ‘being friends’ isn’t really on the table.
But what if the reason we cant be friends has nothing to do with feelings at all? No love. No hate. No nothing. Isn’t it plausible that 2 people are not meant to be friend’s period? That their only purpose in your life was to be a romantic partner, nothing more, nothing less.
Now, maybe, in your relationships the basis to being successful is a solid ‘friendship’ but being ‘besties’ isn’t what got me all hot and bothered when I laid these beautiful eyes on you…nope. So why should I bother pursuing something that was never meant for us to begin with?
Just as two people may never ever date (Im not too terribly sad that my romantic conquests will not include Jay Leno, for example.) two people may never end up being friends. Just not destined to be. Feelings may push you to try because you care for someone but you shouldn’t have to try to be ‘friends’; you either are or youre not.
04 8 / 2013
Permalink 1 note
19 6 / 2013
19 3 / 2013
You want to break up. But what i have to say back…well
i was bothered when you said that maybe i never really knew you. but i do.
see thats how i got to liking you..thats also how i got you to like me…see i knew you liked ice so i brought it on our date…and i knew you liked wine so i brought that too…i knew you were sentimental and was falling for me so i wrote the date on the cork so youd have something to hold and save while you smiled when you thought about us…
i know that you love your michael kors bag but you loved that celebrity dollar more. not because hes your favortie singer but because it was the first thing i gave you and it was perfect.
i know that you care about your family and you care about me…its why when i came to your house, you probably wont remember, but you pulled my pants up in the back to make sure i looked ok…and its also why you told me it would be fine meeting your mom even tho i was freaking out too.
i know that you hate confrontation and would rather avoid any and every problem in the world than talk about it.
i know that its physically impossible for you to step away from anything that is buy 1 get 1 free…or buy 1 get 1 half off…or buy 2 packs of cotton balls and get the third free.
i know that not only lifetime movies, but even some commercials make you cry…
i know that you make choices based on the moment without logic from your mind but love from your heart…that if buying your friend a drink will keep the party going youll do it, even if you dont have the money…or that even tho it makes you sick youll go on the rides with the kids because you know it makes them happy.
i know that any jealousy is from your own insecurities and your “list” of things to change about you. but see youre already with someone who thinks youre beautiful, so ease up on yourself. and if you cant well youre also with someone who will go with you to the plastic surgeon consultation for support, not agreement.
i know you pick dark chocolate over milk chocolate
the purple cow skim milk
tomato onion pizza
and never ever seafood
i also now know you like plastic tampons instead of cardboard.
i know you love deeply and care for people…even strangers that cross your path…its why you are so good at your job and make friends where ever you go.
…i know a lot of things about you, some bad, some good (just so happens that list of 100 things i love about you…are things i know about you too!)…and i accept every single thing and love you regardless. i know things about you because i took the time to get to know you..i spent time holding you, hugging you, talking for hours on end with you; memorizing your body..how you taste and smell…and i make the effort to make you feel special, because you are very special to me.
i know youll read this and not write back, not because you dont love me but for the complete opposite reason. Because theres a million reasons in the world to not be with me and im reminding you of another reason to stay. if you think anything of value in this world comes at an easy price, youre wrong. thats why i said its not easy but its worth it…and frankly even if down the road we fail…well even the biggest failure beats the hell out of never trying.
write back if this gets to you (to you…as in your heart).
20 11 / 2012
17 8 / 2012
Facebook Marginalizing Births
I just took 30 seconds to scroll down my Facebook Newsfeed and counted 7 babies that have recently “blessed” this world.
7. In 30 seconds.
I no longer get that, “Aw, how awesomely amazing” feeling when I see a million babies appear daily. I feel like I am running a Facebook page as a highly experienced OBGYN.
Each baby is accompanied with an “adorable” picture (or 300) and captions that make it seem as if a miraculous feat has been achieved. I feel like these babies are someone I should bow down to during my afternoon prayer session or in the least layout a golden carpet for the mothers who stretched their bodies in bizarre ways to accommodate their presence on this earth.
Truth be told, “precious” is a word used to describe the rare moments of serenity with a baby. I want pictures of crying, screaming, dirty babies. I want the rawness of that birthing mothers face during her shrieks of pain. I want piles of laundry, cheerios on the ground, and spit up rags on the shoulder. I want receipts of diapers, bottles, formula, and clothes.
SHOW ME THE GOODS people.
I know, all that stuff doesn’t compare to the beauty of your angel? It’s worth it? Fine, I concur as I see the beauty in my very own birth. My point is not really the blessing or the sacrifices as in its existence in my face…
It is making me appreciate this life event less and less. In fact, how hard was it to lay on your back or atop another human and embrace the seed of life? No really, how hard was it to get knocked up? Without getting into the human conditions that relate to infertility/adoption ect…how hard was it? It’s not like you even had the daunting task of picking out its eye color or nose shape. Hopefully, you did justice with a suitable name.
I’m not saying giving birth is anything less than magical, and no, I can’t judge the feel of creating and birthing things. But I have to say that this massive overload of babies on my Facebook newsfeed have marginalized the sanctity of such a “precious moment”.
With that said, I am sure all of your babies are special and unique in their own way. A creation unlike no other and an experience that really can’t be put into words, just neatly placed on my feed.
Thanks Mr. Zuckerberg for bringing us closer together, while whimsically tearing apart societal appreciation for meaningful “Life Events”.
Oh and a special, real, heartfelt, Congrats to all the new moms out there. For real!
13 8 / 2012
I have a list of things to do. Index cards taped on my wall with stuff I intend on experiencing in life. Let me list a few of these enchanting things I would like to say “I Did” when I am 80—-if I get there.
-Cage dive with sharks
-Travel—Hawaii, Austrailia, Vegas
-Get a lime green motorcycle with a matching helmet
That’s just the tip of the iceberg that takes up my bedroom wall.
I am 26 years old. I can’t even afford to really begin this list. In fact I can’t even afford to live in the city I work in. My current, newlywed out of Graduate school, salary affords me the opportunity to sustain myself about 7 states south of New York City.
What this leads me to is a comparative analysis of my generation and my parents. At this age they were all moved out, married, working on kid #2.
I never had a desire to bring a fetus into this cruel world. In fact, it’s not like I even asked to be here myself, for if I could go back in time to that moment of conception, I probably would have opted to keep all sperms and eggs involved separated; indefinately.
Anyway, I see around my old friends/current friends, getting married, getting pregnant, and being happy with bake sales and infants that compete on my facebook newsfeed for attention. (For the record, some of them are not cute and I would not vote your child Gerber baby of the year).
In lieu of the aforementioned, I can’t say I want to start that “stay at home” type of life any time soon. I want to travel and explore and be able to do whatever I want, whenever I want.
For the first 20 years of your life you are a slave to school, parents, and lack of funds. For the middle of your life you are a slave to your children and providing them with a better life than you experienced. So by the time you are ready to enjoy the wonders around you, you have a bad hip, arthritis, and are exhausted from the 20+ years you spent raising your little ones into successful individuals.
I know, I know. A lot of people I have talked to say you really haven’t lived until you have had kids. And that the greatest joy is being a parent. And I’m not opposed to it indefinately, I just need to take care of a few things first. So given the scenario of “kids complete my life”, I think I will need to wait another 10 years.
This gives me 1 decade to be selfish. Maybe then I will embark on the journey of diapers and bottles. Just not before I take full advantage of what this world has to offer.
Props to the mothers and fathers out there that wouldn’t change their life for a second. I wish I could attain happiness from shooting out a baby and being content with monotony. Unfortunately, I need more.
Life can either be an incredible adventure or nothing at all. Babies and marriage don’t make the adventure; they possibly complete a very amazing journey that you created for yourself.
Live it up no matter what you chose or choose; no matter what, it just might all be gone tomorrow anyway.
26 7 / 2012
There is a light in the living room that we don’t use. The switch is in fact taped up. For the last year since my mom died my dad has been saying the light goes on. He has even said, ”I told her to put it on the other night, and your mom did…she’s here”.
I’d say he has seen it a half dozen times in the last year.
A year has gone by since she died. I had yet to see this light go on. The one year anniversary of her death was July 4th. Her birthday was July 18th. And my birthday was July 19th. I decided to go skydiving. My dad took pictures and said “your mom is in them”—pointing to a spherical light in each picture. “Sure dad. It’s the suns reflection”. My dad believes in that stuff and not that I don’t, I just need to experience it to believe it.
After coming home to an empty house, I noticed the few birthday cards on my coffee table…and realized something was different. I just felt sadness. As I put my birthday cards away I said, “Wow birthdays are sad without a mom”.
I turned around and that light was on.