Love

This is the preamble to a three-part series of posts - they are confessions:

I’m not exactly sure why I decided to be this candid in front of anyone who wants to read this, but I think it has something to do with a type of therapy.  If I write it down and share it I’m acknowledging that I’ve done something, I’m confessing, it’s a penance and something like a punishment - maybe it's just cathartic (not in the same way a T. Swift concert is, a friend gushed once that her concert was a very cathartic experience for him.)

I started out this blog at a really low point. I was writing it as part of my steps toward stability and it did help me recover some of my frail confidence. It continues to do that for the most part as I show the online world how vulnerable I am, my bad choices, flaws and things I’ve learned in attempts to change my frame of mind. 

This is all kind of funny because I just wrote a post about having a bright and shiny outlook, I’m sure I’ll get back there eventually. Right now, this is what I want to say.

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Love

I was told recently that I think about the past too much, that I dwell on my former relationships and the irreversible choices I’ve made. This is all true and something that I was already well aware of. Example: I discovered CDs in my car this weekend from two different exes. I don’t know when the last time I listened to them was and I’m not sure why they’re still in my glove box but there they are, one with nothing written on it and the other in Sharpie cursive. 

I’ve only had three exes, three people I wanted to be in a relationship with (if you count my middle school relationship that’s four but I’m not sure anyone does that when the most intimate thing you did was hold hands at the movies.) Two of them I called my boyfriend with a sense of satisfaction I didn’t know possible. In high school, I wouldn’t call my long-term relationship anything, I wouldn’t admit that it was a relationship. I had some nice half-baked "relationships" along the way but none that rivaled those three.  Maybe that’s why I linger so much thinking about them. Without going into any detail, just know all of them ended like a broken bone that you never had set. They bother you and don’t heal quite right and they cause a lot more pain than they ever should.

I can take the blame for the ongoing discomfort; always looking back has a way of tinting everything and making it seem perfect. Even the bad parts can be overlooked and forgotten when you feel like you’re suspended in midair all alone (I imagine it’s what astronauts feel like in zero gravity only emotionally.) It’s scary looking around and having nothing to cling to. So, I’d look back and try to hang onto them to keep me grounded. I’ve never been the type of girl that needed a man , I still don’t think of myself that way, but once I’ve opened myself up to having someone be mine and I theirs it’s like removing a piece of myself to let them go (I assume most of you know what I mean.) I’ve only felt this three times, don’t get confused, I’m not like this with everyone. One of them I couldn’t even say “I love you” to because I was afraid what I felt wasn’t love, I didn’t want to be lying, I wanted to make sure it meant something every time I said it.

There have been periods of time when no one was interested in me romantically at all. Times when I was the friend at the bar, the one that had to be entertained by the friends of a dude that wants to meet the girl friend I came with. This still happens relatively frequently. There were times when a few people liked me at once, where I’d go on one date with someone and decide I didn’t feel anything and that we should just be friends (that was a common occurrence in college.) There were other times when I really liked someone that “friend-zoned” me hardcore. More recently, I’ve had guys at the bar asking for my number. I’ll half-heartedly give it to them thinking I should just give it a chance, to then be so obviously lukewarm and evasive they get the hint and stop trying. Maybe I really am disillusioned with the whole dating thing.

I’ve kind of always thought of myself as a bit bitter, maybe too realistic. I used to say it was because some of my family members had such hurtful experiences involving relationships. I can’t blame it on them. Maybe it came from being told at about 14 by a scorned boy that I'll never get married, and then told again as a 23-year-old. I can't be sure, this is just an aspect of life I struggle with.

So here we are, I melted down recently. Not that I haven’t had mental breaks before, but I would say this one might be the worst (not in terms of depression by any means, just in pure personality-lapse, I didn't react as myself) and triggered my deviation from more amusing posts to, you know, whatever this is. The whole thing had to do with a person, and none of that matters, right now, honestly. I will say however that if I wrote the series of unfortunate events that came to pass I could probably write a pretty decent TV show that could rival The New Girl, The Mindy Project and Girls in awkwardness (and possibly humor, I like to think that in a few months this might be funny.)

Here’s how I explained what I’ve been up to recently in Facebook chat to my daughter that's still in college (pledge daughter that is):

“I've been going to the country bar to line dance, and *                    subsequently melted down mid last week, so I drank for 4 days, proceeded to probably make myself look super psycho, but I'm better now 

I also play soccer”

*Redacted to avoid revealing what happened because at this point it's irrelevant.

I couldn’t really get out of the whole situation unscathed, I could have handled the whole thing better, but I try to handle everything without completely losing it (I'm not saying I don't fail at this sometimes, but in general I tend to not go too overboard.) I think it just wasn’t in me to do it this time. Everyone else gets to fall apart completely, they're usually forgiven. It's kind of like when you get screwed with enough and can't take it anymore you pull a Ralphie (OK so not exactly like that, but emotions are nothing to toy with.) So, it took me from Wednesday to Sunday to do this: 

And I've only kind of achieved the pulling myself together portion

I'm relatively certain the guys I've said "I love you" to have actually both stopped believing I ever meant it for various reasons. I did love them, however, despite my idiocy, poor choices and actions, despite everything they did to me and what I did to them. So, these are my confessions, a little less than a month before Valentine's Day, nearing my 24th birthday. Yes, the past holds me back, it holds a lot of people back because it will always be there. Yes, time heals wounds (kind of) and I know I'll be fine. Eventually, the embarrassment will subside, hopefully it's worse in my head than in real life (not so sure about that one though.) Yes, I am guilty of the typical Southern thinking that I am going to die alone because I can't seem to make this stuff work. Yes, I wish I could go back and react differently (like a lady as opposed to like... the opposite of that but crazy. I don't know what that would be.) Yes, I think I reacted on the side of dramatic and I wish I'd pulled an Audrey as opposed to a Britney, but what can you do. 

And if you think this is weakness you try writing your emotions out, how you're really feeling, try "bleeding" in front of other people. Anyway, no one can be strong all the time. 

The WAR ON CHRISTMAS [insert air raid noises here]

So, last year I wrote a piece on how public schools handle...or don't handle... the holidays in schools. I just reread it here and I sound quite smart (I watched Love Actually last night, and I think my inner monologue is coming off a little British today as a result. My apologies.) Anyway, I'm wondering how much of that intelligence was helped out by my editor and how much was me, I honestly can't remember, but look how many good points I made in that story nonetheless!

I was SO fair and TOTALLY not judgmental and I showed different viewpoints, because I definitely didn't agree with everything people told me.

One of my favorite things to do when I worked for my old media company was to have all the TV stations we owned send out, what we called, a Facebook callout. That's where they all ask the same question on their Facebook page. I wasn't interested in just any callouts though, I really liked the ones that were probably going to piss off a few people or get them fired up. In my defense, and in defense of my former employer, the questions themselves were harmless, people just get really flustered and impassioned about certain topics, one involves religion and since we are in the holiday season currently, let's talk about that one. These callouts helped me locate some sources for my stories including the holiday one, so there's the tie in.

Back to the WAR ON CHRISTMAS. I capitalized that because doesn't it sound like there should be intense music playing and possibly explosion noises happening in the background? Like in Young Frankenstein whenever they say Frau Blucher and a horse neighs:

Like this but with more bomb and gun sounds.

In that article I wrote a year ago, I mention Rick Perry. Remember him? Texas guy, ran for Republican presidential candidate but was like the first one out of the running even before Michele "Crazy Eyes" Bachmann. That's how dated my story is now ONE year later, but the whole purpose of writing it remains the same. 

I heard on the radio this morning the DJ saying in a few years we won't even be celebrating any type of holiday, we'll just be celebrating Winter in general, the solstice and such. He was very upset about this. Granted, I listen to a country station so the WAR ON CHRISTMAS is alive and well for that gentleman. 

I don't think it's a WAR ON CHRISTMAS. It's a war on "whatever I don't believe in." And sometimes it's a war on people just thinking others are trying to stifle their beliefs when really, they aren't. 

Listen y'all, I love Christmas and I'm Catholic, currently I'm having a hard time getting in the festive mood because it's like 80 degrees out here in sunny southern Florida, but damn it I have my tree out and my tacky reindeer lights under my bar. I even have a mistletoe hanging out (see what I did there?) over the entrance to my lanai (a lanai is a screened in porch or balcony thing in case you don't live in the octogenarian state or haven't watched as much Golden Girls as I have.)  

I also made latkes (potato pancakes traditionally eaten during Hanukkah festivities) the other day. This is my new tradition during December/Hanukkah. Last year, I made brie-filled latkes from complete scratch. I'm saying I peeled the potatoes and grated them and it was a major pain in the ass. This year, I bought a box of mix, and guess what, they were still delicious and somehow this time I didn't set anything on fire frying them. Confession: I've always wanted an excuse to own a really nice pretty Menorah. 

Watch out Internet, I'm about to step up on a Christmas package (the yule version of a soapbox.) I am more interested in other religions than the average person (probs) and I completely respect them. I'm sure this stems from a time in elementary school where I was obsessed with Roman and Greek mythology. OBSESSED, I tell you. I did an EXTRA CREDIT (sorry for the caps, but what self-respecting elementary schooler does an extra credit project for no reason? I didn't need the points or anything) project about a few gods and goddesses with a friend. I prescribe to the way of thinking that many religions have similar origins, stories that share qualities and teachings. They all have their place and whichever one you call your own is rad* as long as you don't try to push your beliefs on other people. Groovy*? Groovy. 

I also prescribe to the way of thinking that encourages everyone to learn about other cultures, this includes religion. Did I mention I was an anthropology minor? This should all start making sense now. Let me tell you a little story (No, no get on with your point of view you're saying, probably.) A friend of mine wanted to go to Ghana to help people and work for a nonprofit. I bet everyone just said "awwww" collectively. I love this girl, she is very sweet and only had the best intentions in her raging Liberal mind. I respect that she went overseas to physically lend a hand and see the country first-hand. She came back, after an unideal (that's a word) experience, with a different view of helping people. It isn't that we shouldn't want to reach out, if we have the means we definitely should try to help others. It's HOW we choose to go about helping that's the trick. We have to know the other culture, some don't want the kinds of help we may want to offer, we can't just go in and fix something we know nothing about. 

Enter religion. The more knowledge of why others do what they do, feel the way they do, celebrate what and why they do, the better. It doesn't mean anyone else has to have the same beliefs but just having the ability to understand where someone else is coming from isn't harmful. I'm saying teaching from an educational standpoint not brainwashing. Here's the rub, I'm a journalist (Wise shall be the bearers of light and all that) and I want everyone to have as much info as possible to make their own decisions. I'm not a teacher, so I don't know what would be best for children and I'm not going to say I do. It gets really tricky when some religions won't even have their kids learning about other religions because that goes against theirs. See? It's so hard and then you have to respect that and blah blah blah no one is ever going to agree. 

I just came off crunchy and granola-y and now let's all sing Kumbaya together or This Little Light of Mine or something. I am just advocating for the information to be distributed if possible. I think Christmas trees are awesome and I don't want to see them taken down everywhere or anything (funny story, Christmas trees aren't even really a Christian thing, it was a pagan tradition originally.) And if a huge Menorah went up somewhere in a public place I totally wouldn't care, it'd probably be really pretty. Actually, the hospital down the street from my house in Kansas does have a gigantic Menorah in front of it and it's called Menorah Medical Center and I have never given that a second thought. 

It's just sad and not in the spirit of anyone's religious celebrations to be angry and to attack other people. Sorry we don't always agree, opinions are like assholes as my dad likes to tell me. It's "all the ways that we show love that feel like Christmas" or Hanukkah or Kwanza, or whatever you may be celebrating this December. That line is from A Muppet Christmas Carol....yes really. 

Watch and be happy.

The perfect date or mate

You know, in beauty pageants when they say, "Describe your perfect date?" Usually, if we aren't talking about the answer from Miss Congeniality, the person describes the activities they would do on their perfect date. 

Here's that clip from Miss Congeniality for your amusement. 

I feel like part of the perfect date depends on the person you're with too though. You know, if the guy doesn't like the beach, you probably aren't going to have a good time walking barefoot on the beach discussing books and movies because he'll be complaining about shells or how scared he is of sharks or something. 

Every girl has talked about her idea of the perfect guy. This usually occurs at sleep overs, or in your sorority in college or over your lunch break from work, or any time ever, basically. I have no idea when men might talk about these things or if they do at all. Perhaps it's one of those topics that comes up when guys get too drunk to care about showing emotions right before they start to punch through walls. You don't know guys that do that? Well, your loss. 

I inadvertently gathered information on many of my friends' perfect guys/girls. I didn't mean to obtain all of this knowledge it's just one of those things that happened and then I was so interested I just started asking more friends. 

I came to the conclusion that everyone is insane. 

Exhibit A:

Let's start with one of my dude friends. He has A LOT of strict things his lady must have. His words, not mine. It's actually hilarious when you think about it when people say their ideal mate has specific physical aspects, such as big boobs or curly hair, because....what? Sure, certain physical aspects are more attractive to us than others but what are the odds, really? So, I'm overlooking those. But apparently his dream girl can't be much smarter than him, can't cook much better than him, must like whisky, must like/enjoy his music and must like football/all sports. 

So, there's that. The cooking part cracks me up because I don't know many guys that can cook or many that wouldn't want a girl to cook better than them. But I also don't know a girl that would be upset if her man was a good cook. 

In his defense, he is in no hurry to find someone, which I admire. We're all rushing around trying to find people so we don't end up alone, which is just a silly way to go through life. I say that now when I worry all the time about ending up alone. 

Exhibit B: 

One of my girl friends said seeking the "perfect" mate is just a recipe for disaster (agreed.) But overall she wants someone who understands her, that makes her think and challenges her to grow as a person. The growing as a person thing was a common theme among the friends I asked.

I suppose that's one of those responsible things you realize you need after a few failed relationships. 

Exhibit C:
Another guy said: honest, accepts him for who he is, caring, funny....attractive. I know I said you shouldn't pick out what the person looks like, but if you are in no way attracted to someone it is NEVER going to work. NEVER. So, if someone says they are looking for someone that's attractive, that's OK and duh. To finish off he said kind of nerdy and likes to do physical activities. 

Exhibit D: 
I guess mostly just my guy friends answered me because this is another guy. Most of my girl friends are  engaged, married or in relationships and I didn't want to ask them because like, hello, they're with someone and that could get awkward. So this dude says he wants a mate he can grow with. Him and a partner may not see eye to eye but they'd respect their differences and bring the best out of each other.

Exhibit E: 
Lastly, another bud of mine says he just wants someone to laugh with.

But when you asked me the question of "describe my perfect woman" honestly I could only see one thing. Someone who I can roll around laughing with who has a smile that melts my heart and though I can't stop looking at it, I also can't stop myself from kissing those beautiful lips.

Again, his words not mine. But, awwwww, how adorable is that!? Ladies, if you're looking for someone, apparently I know a lot of single guys, and that's the cutest description ever. Not that I'm trying to pimp them out or anything, just, you know, trying to be helpful.

Exhibit F: 
[Caution: Not suitable for anyone under the age of 13... or 16 or something] Another guy sent me this picture when I asked him what his perfect woman would be like. I mean, he was joking, probably. I think. I just know guys are going to look at that picture and think "YES, why have I not seen that before!?"

One friend wants a jacked guy that's really normal, one girl wants someone really smart to intellectually challenge her, at times I want a cowboy that can treat me as well as country songs say the guys treat their belles. Once, my friend told me she likes normal, buff guys and I like skinny, weird guys.

I guess this was my own version of a psychological survey. All I've ever heard is that when you look for someone, you'll never find them, it kind of just happens. 

I do vividly remember a friend in Alabama kind of casting off a bunch of fellas before giving them a chance for a myriad of reasons, too young, too old, their job sucked, they liked country music blah blah blah. See that is something that's not cool. 

I HATED country music before I dated one of my exes. I thought it was a bunch of people singing about losing their truck, dog, wife and mobile home. Now, I love it. It just grew on me. It's just giving people a chance. Just to cover my bases, I'm not saying give every lad or lassie a chance. They totally could be CraigsList killers. 

Really, I just wanted to show that everyone has their ideas and preferences, some are better directed than others. But, coming from a girl that has been told a few times she's never going to get married, I feel a camaraderie in this brotherhood of men (and women) that are kind of floating through life trying to figure out what's going on. 

Did I tell you a guy I went to interview for work said something along the lines of this: "...so they're coming down here and trying to find a boyfriend and all those others things they've got to do to function as a human being and find fulfillment in life."

I'm not sure how he meant it, but it sure felt like he was telling me I need a man to function in society. So, thank you all for making me feel like I don't NEED that, it's just nice to know we're a benevolent brotherhood in the same slightly leaky boat. 

Honestly, someone please just send me the guy who plays Q in Skyfall... who is a skinny, possibly weird, guy. 

She's so heavy...

You know that Beatles song I Want You (She's So Heavy)? If you don't know what I'm talking about, here you go.

 
I do realize that this version is from the movie Across the Universe, but the actual 
recording wouldn't embed, so here you go. Enjoy.

Let's skip over all of the wanting someone so bad part. This is not an unrequited love/Taylor Swift song type post. It's the "she's so heavy" part I want you to direct your attention to. When Lennon wrote this song I'm sure he wasn't thinking EXACTLY about heavy like emotionally but I'm sure that is in there somewhere. 

A friend of mine described me as heavy once, as in everything just means so much to me and is such a big deal. She clarified this by saying that wasn't a bad thing. I wasn't even mad, I kind of know what she means. And everyone can be "heavy" about certain aspects of life. I suppose workaholics are heavy about their professional lives, people in gangs are heavy about their reps....that was a weird example because I don't know anything about being in a gang...

Or do I?

No I really don't, but hopefully that comparison makes sense. 

I am heavy about my social life. I kind of thought this came about after the relationship I had in college which kind of tore me up. I was SO wrong. Just, completely and entirely incorrect. Way off the mark...you could probably add more cliches about being wrong in there too, just for good measure, that's how wrong I was. 

Sure, major events that impact your life can cause you to change your emotional or mental state or something, but I've been like this since forever apparently. Over this Thanksgiving week I watched some home movies with my parents on VHS (they actually brought the extra VCR from Kansas City and left it with me here in Florida. So, who wants to watch some vintage VHSes?). There was one family reunion tape where I was a cute baby, unable to make a fool of myself or appear like a brat, which is the downfall of having home movies. Then there was this one where I think I was in middle school.

It is a well documented fact that middle school is by far the most awkward point in basically everyone's lives. Also, we start to act like little assholes which lasts through high school. In this home movie I am playing croquet (seriously) and I am totally sucking at it and I am just like the most lanky, awkward girl in the whole world. This was before I got my braces (my front teeth looked huge) before I embraced my glasses (in my defense that didn't happen until after I had graduated from college) and nothing I wore seemed to fit as well as it probably should have if I hadn't been so ungainly (CONFESSION: I just looked up another word for awkward in the thesaurus because I was using it too much. You're welcome.)   

Other than how gawky (thank you thesaurus) I was, I also was super sarcastic with my mom. I actually wanted to slap little me, I was so annoyed with myself. Apparently, the sarcasm didn't just develop after  four years of college, oops. 

Back to the heavy thing. My friend recently located her DeviantArt account. I also had one but I totally forgot about it until I was looking through her's and located it (the username is just so nerd-a-rific it's unreal.) I guess I had posted some of the poems I wrote when I was in high school and dear Lord, they are so emo and dark and HEAVY. So, so heavy. I'll post one, if you want to read the other ones you have to ask very nicely and maybe give me some beer or something. Be kind.  

The element of love--
Yes, it is an element all it's own.
Correction: It is all the elements on it's own.
The air you cannot breath when you see her,
The ice-water that forms whirlpools in you stomach when you see him,
The fire that glares whenever you're near him,
The earth that remains lodged beneath your finger nails after that game
Of football you played to impress her.

My name means “worthy of love.”
I was born two days before Valentine's Day.
I chose Latin, from which all romance languages stem from.
I have never been in love.
It's a curse triggered by the many love allusions that are hidden in my life,
A curse placed upon me by Aphrodite herself, forcing me to wear a halo--
More of a barrier, against romantic advances.
I wish
Then I would have an excuse.
I don't
I don't have the ability to fall gracefully after being hit by Cupid's arrow,
Instead I am wounded by it,
It aches forever and I am unable to ease the dull, nagging pang.
I continue to pick at the scab it leaves,
Ripping the sore apart.
I do not have dirt beneath my nails,
I have the remains of my dried blood under them.
When it heals I know I've lost, I am left with a scar,
I just couldn't let myself
Fall, trip, dive into love--
Now it's gone.

Holy hell, right?!  I wrote this in high school! At least now I try not to take everything as seriously. It's kind of funny because I read this now and I see this theme of me being afraid I'm going to end up alone and never get married. Welp, old habits (read: neurotic worries) die hard. 

There's this part in Bridesmaids where Annie and Helen are discussing how people change, it goes like this:  

[referring to Lillian not joining them to play tennis]
Annie: Well, you know, she's not really that into sports. Even when we were little she didn't like anything that was too competitive.
Helen: Oh, she certainly enjoys playing tennis now. It's funny how people change, isn't it?
Annie: Yeah. I mean, I don't know. Do people really change?
Helen: Mmm. I think they do.
Annie: Yeah. But I mean like, still stay who they are, pretty much.
Helen: I think we change all the time.
Annie: I think we stay the same, but grow I guess, a little bit.
Helen: I think if you're growing, then you're changing.
Annie: But I mean we're changing from who we are, which we always stay as.
Helen: Not really. I don't think so.
Annie: I think so.
Helen: I don't.

I DO believe people can change, thank God, or everyone would suck. I also believe there are parts of us that apparently don't despite our best intentions. 

What's the worst part about a break up?

This is kind of a trick question. Unless you are completely disgusted with your partner and see no redeemable qualities in them, there are lots of terrible parts in a break up. But, you all know what I’m going to say the worst is, don’t you? If you don’t then I’m pretty sure you’ve never gone through one of those terrible breakups that cause you to drone on and on to people about your former life. 

It isn’t just the memories of the good times you had. I know that’s what you were thinking. It’s something a little more specific than that. In reality, it’s every little thing that reminds you of them. OK, I’ll admit that this has to do with the memories, but you aren’t seeing my point here. It’s that song that has lyrics that so perfectly fit what you had that you have to turn the channel every time it comes on the radio. It’s the cute bunny you see on your run that you would have taken a picture of to send the other person because cute animals were something you shared to make each other feel better. It’s seeing an insignia for a group they were in and immediately turning away and simultaneously wanting to rip it down. Maybe it’s as simple as seeing a city you’ve been to together in an article you are reading. Anything can trigger a memory or a thought of that person you’d rather not think about.

This part of the break up can last months, but more likely it will last years after you’ve been apart. It’s just a lingering feeling and reminder that you possibly lost the best thing you’re going to get – or it just reminds you of how much of a tool they are. Either way, it’s a painful experience. And short of burning out a little section of your brain, it’s something that even getting into a better relationship won’t heal. 

Listening to those songs you shared or wearing those clothes they loved after you end things is like pressing on a bruise. You know it’s tender, but you want to feel how sore it is to test to see if it’s healing or just to see if it still hurts. You know you shouldn’t do it, but you have to see how it feels anyway. And even if you can stand listening to the entire song, do you really feel better? Maybe you feel a little more empowered, but then again, you spent an entire song probably thinking about your old relationship. Now how do you feel?

Here, I’ll help you feel better. If you don’t like chocolate (we aren’t friends if this is the case) go pick up a pack of WarHeads.  Yes they still make them. If you do like chocolate go pick up a pack of Butter Fingers.  I bet you haven’t eaten those things in a while. Are you thinking about how delicious those sugary morsels are and about how simple things used to be the last time you had them? 

There you go, feel better?

DISCLAIMER: If the candies above are directly linked to a past relationship of yours I just made my point. Go pick up a box of Lunchable Pizzas, you’ll feel better.