As a marketing professional, I envy the genius who came up with the idea of commemorating St. Valentine’s Day. I imagine the inception to have occurred at a cocktail party where the who’s who of Hallmark, Ghirardelli, Kay Jewelers, and 1-800-flowers were discussing a joint venture of some sort that would enable them to serve one common goal: suck those lovers dry. Well done, you greedy creative bastards.
As a single gal, I simply dread this day. It’s the one day where you’re reminded of how truly empty your life can feel without having someone to whisper “I love you” to, without someone to hold your hand, or without someone to buy a special gift for. Not to say that receiving a bouquet of roses would really fill that empty void either – it would be nice though (all interested parties, please inquire within for shipping address).
It’s ok though... because I don’t need an annual marketing scheme to tell me I have to put my feelings on display by eating at an outrageously priced restaurant with a prix fix menu consisting of limited vegetarian options. So cupid can just take his arrow and strike it up his bare ass.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Burn It Up
Ok, disregard my last blog – I don’t know what I was smoking. I feel as if I just eclipsed around this thing called love; I’ve seen it, felt it, and witnessed it from all angles now, and I can say that I’m finally beginning to understand it. Finally…I think.
As I was listening to two of my friends gush about their new blossoming relationships, it occurred to me that I too, want that. I do want to get married. I do want to believe in the sanctity of vows and promises. I mean, who was I kidding? I already have my wedding songs picked out, along with my colors and party favors. The only thing left to pick out is a groom now. But more than a wedding, I want a marriage.
Hearing them talk also made me reform my stance on the debate over: “is it better to have loved and lost, or to never have loved at all?” I used to think the former caused too much pain and agony, thus, it would be better to never get caught up in the love shenanigans. But a scary thought then crept into my mind later that night: what if I never fall in love again? After all, there’s a sense of mortality and virtue in longing for someone. Without having someone to love, is sort of like being an envelope without an address.
As interesting as the past couple of years have been being a 20 odd year old, single gal in the city, I’m ready to hang up my gloves and step out of the rink. It’s a crazy world in there, believe you me. Meeting someone isn’t the hard part. The trouble is finding that someone that makes you want to stop time yet rush to the altar, all at once in this weird sweet cacophony. Those who have recently professed their desire to pursue a relationship have had a lot to offer – but there’s something missing – it’s that damn spark. I’m talking about that can’t get enough of you—inconvenient—unexplainable—sweaty palms—just want to grab and kiss you—kind of a spark. (Hopeless romantic here, remember?)
A single heartbreak, two boyfriends, and countless dates after, I have finally discovered what matters most in a relationship; ultimately, it doesn’t matter how smart, how hot, how rich, or how sweet a guy is, because all it takes is a spark to ignite the fire that will light up both of your worlds.
As I was listening to two of my friends gush about their new blossoming relationships, it occurred to me that I too, want that. I do want to get married. I do want to believe in the sanctity of vows and promises. I mean, who was I kidding? I already have my wedding songs picked out, along with my colors and party favors. The only thing left to pick out is a groom now. But more than a wedding, I want a marriage.
Hearing them talk also made me reform my stance on the debate over: “is it better to have loved and lost, or to never have loved at all?” I used to think the former caused too much pain and agony, thus, it would be better to never get caught up in the love shenanigans. But a scary thought then crept into my mind later that night: what if I never fall in love again? After all, there’s a sense of mortality and virtue in longing for someone. Without having someone to love, is sort of like being an envelope without an address.
As interesting as the past couple of years have been being a 20 odd year old, single gal in the city, I’m ready to hang up my gloves and step out of the rink. It’s a crazy world in there, believe you me. Meeting someone isn’t the hard part. The trouble is finding that someone that makes you want to stop time yet rush to the altar, all at once in this weird sweet cacophony. Those who have recently professed their desire to pursue a relationship have had a lot to offer – but there’s something missing – it’s that damn spark. I’m talking about that can’t get enough of you—inconvenient—unexplainable—sweaty palms—just want to grab and kiss you—kind of a spark. (Hopeless romantic here, remember?)
A single heartbreak, two boyfriends, and countless dates after, I have finally discovered what matters most in a relationship; ultimately, it doesn’t matter how smart, how hot, how rich, or how sweet a guy is, because all it takes is a spark to ignite the fire that will light up both of your worlds.
Silencing the Wedding Bells
I seem to have taken this “turning over a new leaf” thing to the extreme. My recent actions and change in attitude have managed to shock the one person I thought impossible…. myself. Jumping out a plane – risky yet adventurous. Chopping off my hair – drastic yet understandable. Not wanting to get married – now that’s just crazy talk.
I can pinpoint the precise moment this thought entered my mind, and never quite made it through the exit door. A friend told me the story behind someone’s divorce – nothing original though: husband cheats on wife with a coworker; and to add insult to injury, he takes the mistress out to the very place his wife wanted to go for her birthday (on her birthday, might I add). Not to say all men are alike, but has marriage completely lost all sanctity? Why do people chase like dogs, struggle to make it work, and celebrate their union – only to hire the best lawyer possible 7.5 years later to legally relinquish themselves from all bonds created from that holy state of matrimony?
In all fairness though, for every heartbreaking story I hear, I’m reminded of an equally heartwarming story of a couple that has stood the test of time. I once met a cab driver who told me about a backpacking trip to Europe where fate introduced him to the love of his life, and has since been happily married for over 30 years. They defied cultural barriers, and reinstated my belief in fate. Or more recently, my hairdresser told me about the love letters (yes actual letters – like the stuff that requires postage and ink) he and his (then) pen pal used to write to each other. They defied the vast distance, and reminded me that patience and respect go a long way.
But just because I choose to remain a miss, why does it have to feel as if something is amiss in my life? I don’t want to conform to society’s notions of what’s considered “right and proper.” I don’t want to commit to someone who might just be a page, rather than a chapter, in my life. The simple fact of the matter is that people – men and women alike – can’t be trusted and marriage only obligates you to remain together. I’m not saying I’ve sworn off being in a committed relationship either – but I don’t find it necessary to get a marriage license as a stamp of approval to validate my relationship.
But I also know that the hopeless romantic in me (she’s still in there) will make me change my tune if I meet someone incredible yet completely unassuming… that someone who will shake me from the core and make me believe in love again. As for now, the search for Mr. Right has been called off, because Ms. Modi is in no rush to turn Mrs. Right.
I can pinpoint the precise moment this thought entered my mind, and never quite made it through the exit door. A friend told me the story behind someone’s divorce – nothing original though: husband cheats on wife with a coworker; and to add insult to injury, he takes the mistress out to the very place his wife wanted to go for her birthday (on her birthday, might I add). Not to say all men are alike, but has marriage completely lost all sanctity? Why do people chase like dogs, struggle to make it work, and celebrate their union – only to hire the best lawyer possible 7.5 years later to legally relinquish themselves from all bonds created from that holy state of matrimony?
In all fairness though, for every heartbreaking story I hear, I’m reminded of an equally heartwarming story of a couple that has stood the test of time. I once met a cab driver who told me about a backpacking trip to Europe where fate introduced him to the love of his life, and has since been happily married for over 30 years. They defied cultural barriers, and reinstated my belief in fate. Or more recently, my hairdresser told me about the love letters (yes actual letters – like the stuff that requires postage and ink) he and his (then) pen pal used to write to each other. They defied the vast distance, and reminded me that patience and respect go a long way.
But just because I choose to remain a miss, why does it have to feel as if something is amiss in my life? I don’t want to conform to society’s notions of what’s considered “right and proper.” I don’t want to commit to someone who might just be a page, rather than a chapter, in my life. The simple fact of the matter is that people – men and women alike – can’t be trusted and marriage only obligates you to remain together. I’m not saying I’ve sworn off being in a committed relationship either – but I don’t find it necessary to get a marriage license as a stamp of approval to validate my relationship.
But I also know that the hopeless romantic in me (she’s still in there) will make me change my tune if I meet someone incredible yet completely unassuming… that someone who will shake me from the core and make me believe in love again. As for now, the search for Mr. Right has been called off, because Ms. Modi is in no rush to turn Mrs. Right.
C'est La Vie
I’ve been debating whether I should write this blog or not. Writing it seems to give it more credence than it deserves, but if I didn’t… it still wouldn’t make it any less inconsequential. So I’m putting my pride aside and stripping my thoughts naked.
A day that I’ve been long expecting – half-dreading, half-wishing – finally arrived. I received the news of my ex’s engagement, which wasn’t really news to me at all. He had been doing such a wonderful job lurking around in my life like a shadow, that I foreshadowed this probably long before he even did. I used to wonder how things would be when this day would come. Will I be single? Will I care? Will he still be a liar? Will he be happy? And now that the moment of truth is here, the answers almost don’t seem to matter, because the only question that makes a difference is… would I rather be in her shoes? The beauty of seeing his life unravel before mine is I get to see how that could’ve been my life – and how glad I am that it isn’t.
I wrote this blog not because there’s baggage that needs to be unloaded, but because I like to give credit where it’s deserved. He played a big role in my life, there’s no denying that. But he’s about to play an even bigger role in someone else’s life, and there’s no denying that either. I’m not bitter, nor am I jealous or hurt – ok fine, maybe a little. Life does seem a bit unfair at times like these; how can a person who caused so many people so much grief deserve to be so happy? You see, getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars; you have to let go at some point in order to move forward. All great (and not-so-great) things must come to end. And in this not-so-great end, is my great new beginning.
A day that I’ve been long expecting – half-dreading, half-wishing – finally arrived. I received the news of my ex’s engagement, which wasn’t really news to me at all. He had been doing such a wonderful job lurking around in my life like a shadow, that I foreshadowed this probably long before he even did. I used to wonder how things would be when this day would come. Will I be single? Will I care? Will he still be a liar? Will he be happy? And now that the moment of truth is here, the answers almost don’t seem to matter, because the only question that makes a difference is… would I rather be in her shoes? The beauty of seeing his life unravel before mine is I get to see how that could’ve been my life – and how glad I am that it isn’t.
I wrote this blog not because there’s baggage that needs to be unloaded, but because I like to give credit where it’s deserved. He played a big role in my life, there’s no denying that. But he’s about to play an even bigger role in someone else’s life, and there’s no denying that either. I’m not bitter, nor am I jealous or hurt – ok fine, maybe a little. Life does seem a bit unfair at times like these; how can a person who caused so many people so much grief deserve to be so happy? You see, getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars; you have to let go at some point in order to move forward. All great (and not-so-great) things must come to end. And in this not-so-great end, is my great new beginning.
Ciao Bella
It’s gone baby gone. I did it. It’s chopped off and ready to be shipped off for a child in need.
All you skeptics out there didn’t think I’d be able to muster up the courage to do it. Well honestly speaking – neither did I. Cutting my beloved hair off was much like ending a marriage. I made a promise that I would take care of it in sickness and in health, ‘till scissors do us part. Those of you who know me – or even those of you who have Rapunzel’s hair length – can understand the long (no pun intended) love affair I’ve had with my hair. I was attached to it like a baby to its pacifier. “It’s just hair, it’ll grow back,” people would tell me. Yes, thank you for your brilliant insight. “Don’t do it, you’ll look like a boy,” other detractors would say. Thanks jerk.
But most of you are probably wondering what possessed me to take such a drastic step in the first place. No, I’m not trying to emulate Rihanna (although I wouldn’t mind swapping genes with her). Perhaps if you scroll down to my “Wonder Year” blog, that will better explain my desire to reinvent myself – be it by stepping outside my comfort zone, or by stepping inside a salon.
Whether people love it or hate it is yet to be seen, but regardless of the verdict, it’s gone. But rather than crying over the loss, I almost feel a bit liberated because I feel empowered. I know it sounds a bit silly – creating all this fuss over a haircut – but it made me think about how hard I try to hold on to things in my life, when in fact, I have the power to let go… if I simply choose to. All I ever knew and had was long hair, and I feared change. Feared that I won’t look the same. Feared that I won’t know what to do with my new do. Feared that I might actually look like a boy. But now that it’s gone, I fear no more. With those 10 inches, I also shed a layer of inhibition.
Like an umbilical cord that releases a child from its mother, I’ve released my baby – and we’re both doing just fine.
All you skeptics out there didn’t think I’d be able to muster up the courage to do it. Well honestly speaking – neither did I. Cutting my beloved hair off was much like ending a marriage. I made a promise that I would take care of it in sickness and in health, ‘till scissors do us part. Those of you who know me – or even those of you who have Rapunzel’s hair length – can understand the long (no pun intended) love affair I’ve had with my hair. I was attached to it like a baby to its pacifier. “It’s just hair, it’ll grow back,” people would tell me. Yes, thank you for your brilliant insight. “Don’t do it, you’ll look like a boy,” other detractors would say. Thanks jerk.
But most of you are probably wondering what possessed me to take such a drastic step in the first place. No, I’m not trying to emulate Rihanna (although I wouldn’t mind swapping genes with her). Perhaps if you scroll down to my “Wonder Year” blog, that will better explain my desire to reinvent myself – be it by stepping outside my comfort zone, or by stepping inside a salon.
Whether people love it or hate it is yet to be seen, but regardless of the verdict, it’s gone. But rather than crying over the loss, I almost feel a bit liberated because I feel empowered. I know it sounds a bit silly – creating all this fuss over a haircut – but it made me think about how hard I try to hold on to things in my life, when in fact, I have the power to let go… if I simply choose to. All I ever knew and had was long hair, and I feared change. Feared that I won’t look the same. Feared that I won’t know what to do with my new do. Feared that I might actually look like a boy. But now that it’s gone, I fear no more. With those 10 inches, I also shed a layer of inhibition.
Like an umbilical cord that releases a child from its mother, I’ve released my baby – and we’re both doing just fine.
All's Not Fair in Love
There’s a line from the movie “Kal Ho Na Ho” where the character proposes to a girl and says kneeling down, “I know right now there’s no love for me in your heart, because you love someone else. But I promise that if you give me a chance, I will spend the rest of my life loving you enough for the both of us.” Touching and very Bollywood, indeed. However, it makes me wonder if it’s powerful enough for me to accept the proposal. Allow me to explain:
Is it better to be with someone that loves you, or to be with someone that you love? That is the question.
It’s a question that has spurred great debates among me and my friends, yet a question that has remained open to speculation. I’ve been on both ends of the spectrum so my arguments have been anything but biased. I know that being the object of someone’s affection brings you more than just flowers and compliments. The title tends to come with a pedestal that guys sit you upon, where you are infallible and almost too delicate to handle.
“You’re one of the best things to have happened to me.”
“Why didn’t I meet you sooner? Where were you all this time?”
“You’re like a breath of fresh air…so refreshing.”
These are the words spoken by those who have fancied me in the recent past. But when I read them back, I’m almost a bit puzzled at its oddity – mainly because it never struck me to feel the same about them.
Then there’s the other end of the pole – when you become the lover – rather than the one loved. This is when you truly realize the depths of your feelings for a person. I once drove a 100 miles on a weeknight after work, with a pit stop to pick up cupcakes, to surprise a guy I was dating on his birthday. Not to toot my own horn, but I can be pretty damn sweet if the right guy comes along. But it was evident soon after, that the drive back home was going to be a lonely one. Yet I still yearned for his affection, in hopes that the scale of balance would finally tilt in my favor. Well, it never did. I couldn’t fathom why despite my attempts, he still couldn’t reciprocate the feeling back. Just like how I couldn’t get myself to fall for those who had fallen for me.
Yet looking back, the times I was the happiest was with the person that also made me the saddest. I know that being with someone that loves and appreciates me will always try to keep me happy, but I also know that if I’m with the one I really love and want, I’ll do everything in my power to make him happy. The question then becomes… which gives you more satisfaction – being at the receiving or the giving end? And no, having both is not an option. After all, this is reality – not some chic flick.
Is it better to be with someone that loves you, or to be with someone that you love? That is the question.
It’s a question that has spurred great debates among me and my friends, yet a question that has remained open to speculation. I’ve been on both ends of the spectrum so my arguments have been anything but biased. I know that being the object of someone’s affection brings you more than just flowers and compliments. The title tends to come with a pedestal that guys sit you upon, where you are infallible and almost too delicate to handle.
“You’re one of the best things to have happened to me.”
“Why didn’t I meet you sooner? Where were you all this time?”
“You’re like a breath of fresh air…so refreshing.”
These are the words spoken by those who have fancied me in the recent past. But when I read them back, I’m almost a bit puzzled at its oddity – mainly because it never struck me to feel the same about them.
Then there’s the other end of the pole – when you become the lover – rather than the one loved. This is when you truly realize the depths of your feelings for a person. I once drove a 100 miles on a weeknight after work, with a pit stop to pick up cupcakes, to surprise a guy I was dating on his birthday. Not to toot my own horn, but I can be pretty damn sweet if the right guy comes along. But it was evident soon after, that the drive back home was going to be a lonely one. Yet I still yearned for his affection, in hopes that the scale of balance would finally tilt in my favor. Well, it never did. I couldn’t fathom why despite my attempts, he still couldn’t reciprocate the feeling back. Just like how I couldn’t get myself to fall for those who had fallen for me.
Yet looking back, the times I was the happiest was with the person that also made me the saddest. I know that being with someone that loves and appreciates me will always try to keep me happy, but I also know that if I’m with the one I really love and want, I’ll do everything in my power to make him happy. The question then becomes… which gives you more satisfaction – being at the receiving or the giving end? And no, having both is not an option. After all, this is reality – not some chic flick.
The Wonder Year
The ball has dropped, the confetti has been thrown, and all the champagne has been popped. A new year is finally upon us. For some, this will be the year to wipe the slate clean and start over. For others, it’ll be the year to tie lose ends – or the knot. For me, it’s always a bittersweet time; it’s the time I reflect and reminisce about the previous New Year’s Eve and the journey that led me to the current one. The past year was quite tumultuous for me in every aspect of my life. But it was also just as incredible – new friends, new places, and new opportunities were met with equal fervor as old flames and first jobs were left behind. It’s a time for me to resolve and rejoice the new possibilities that await me… 365 new possibilities to be precise. There’s the possibility to fall madly in love – not to be confused with infatuation or lust (yes, I finally figured it out). There’s the possibility of adding another bullet on my resume. There’s the possibility of finally embracing the freedom I’ve been craving. And of course, there’s my favorite possibility of jetsetting off to yet another unseen city and experiencing a new culture – a different way of life.
I don’t have any concrete resolutions – well, maybe a couple. But the one difference between this year and those preceding will be this is the year I make it happen. This is the year of doing – not just planning; this is the year of moving on – not just letting go; this is the year of fulfillment and no regrets. This is the year I stop wondering and start living, because 2009 is just a drop, throw, and a pop away.
I don’t have any concrete resolutions – well, maybe a couple. But the one difference between this year and those preceding will be this is the year I make it happen. This is the year of doing – not just planning; this is the year of moving on – not just letting go; this is the year of fulfillment and no regrets. This is the year I stop wondering and start living, because 2009 is just a drop, throw, and a pop away.
Up & Down
When a baby cries, the whole house hears it. When a glass shatters, the whole restaurant hears it. But when a heart breaks, no one hears a sound – possibly because it’s muffled by its own tears. The first time a guy broke my heart, I promised myself this would be the last time I’d ever give someone a chance to do it again. But like most men’s penises, hearts also have a mind of their own. Clumsy ol’ me, stumbled upon a fellow and fell. I fell without realizing he’d be there to catch me. It’s not that he didn’t want to… it’s just that he had cast his net elsewhere.
So now, here I am. Broken… hurt… fallen… and staring at the monitor, as if the cure to this pain will scribe itself on my screen. I guess the beauty of being down is that the only place to go from here is up, up, and away.
The Great Escape
We do it in our dreams while we’re fast asleep. We do it during a vacation in a foreign country. We do it during those two hours at the movie theater. We try to escape from reality at every chance we get – sometimes without really knowing what it is that we’re running from, and what it is that we’re running towards. It’s as if we’re allergic to life and are constantly looking to prescribe ourselves with something to cure us of our mundane activities.
I’m guilty as charged myself. I love to get away from it all – though I’m not quite sure what “it all” encompasses. Responsibilities perhaps. Applying to B-schools. The quest for finding Mr. Right. My crazy ex and his even more insane antics. A break from my phone and email. But like an alarm clock, something always brings us back – whether it’s school, work, or family – reality usually comes knocking just as you’re about to close the doors on it.
Magicians seem to have mastered the art of escaping from some of life’s greatest tricks. And if there’s anything to be learned by them, it’s that escaping is merely an illusion – a blanket of denial we use to cover up reality. No matter how many escapades you venture out on, the fact of the matter is…you can run, you can hide, but you can never truly escape…
I’m guilty as charged myself. I love to get away from it all – though I’m not quite sure what “it all” encompasses. Responsibilities perhaps. Applying to B-schools. The quest for finding Mr. Right. My crazy ex and his even more insane antics. A break from my phone and email. But like an alarm clock, something always brings us back – whether it’s school, work, or family – reality usually comes knocking just as you’re about to close the doors on it.
Magicians seem to have mastered the art of escaping from some of life’s greatest tricks. And if there’s anything to be learned by them, it’s that escaping is merely an illusion – a blanket of denial we use to cover up reality. No matter how many escapades you venture out on, the fact of the matter is…you can run, you can hide, but you can never truly escape…
The Monster Within
There lies a monster within all of us. Yes, people are predominantly born good, but certain circumstances overtime shape the course of that purity. A war can make a soldier out of a boy – but it can also make a Hitler out of a man. The true litmus test for a person occurs when you stick your hand out for a rose, but get pricked by thorns. Do you curse the rose or the thorns?
I’ve been dealing with a “creature” for some time now, because he has made it his mission to haunt me like a nightmare. My patience is beginning to take its toll, but if he has learned anything from the amount of time invested in me, he will soon realize that my silence speaks volumes louder than his cowardly acts. Perhaps he’s afraid of his own true evil reflection, thus finds it necessary to hide behind a transparent mask. I’ll deal with him when the time comes. But as for him, he’ll have to face his own demons, because sooner or later, they’ll eat him up inside.
I’ve been dealing with a “creature” for some time now, because he has made it his mission to haunt me like a nightmare. My patience is beginning to take its toll, but if he has learned anything from the amount of time invested in me, he will soon realize that my silence speaks volumes louder than his cowardly acts. Perhaps he’s afraid of his own true evil reflection, thus finds it necessary to hide behind a transparent mask. I’ll deal with him when the time comes. But as for him, he’ll have to face his own demons, because sooner or later, they’ll eat him up inside.
First Love
What can I say about first love that hasn’t already been said the first fifty times? What can be said about an emotion that is universal and all consuming? I can take the cheesy approach and write something poetic and romantic, but my gag reflexes won’t tolerate such gaudy talk. I can play the scorned bitch role and talk about the scars left so deep, that it gave Mederma a run for its money. No, I don’t want to go that route either.
There’s something special about firsts. Your first child. Your child’s first step. The first day of school. The first kiss. The first time. Your life takes a mental snapshot of that moment and stores it deep inside the pockets of your mind. A moment that is now marked in history, irreversible, and irreplaceable. Back when my heart was still untainted, I used to think that falling in love would be the hardest thing to do – as if it were a task on my list of things to do – or a goal to be achieved – or a rites of passage to the ‘couples club.’ But then the love bug bit me, and it felt so natural. And now that I’ve fallen out of love, I think to myself… how the hell will I ever fall in love again?
If only falling in love could be like the first time every time. Maybe it will be… we’ll see. Maybe it will be just as unexpected and enchanting. Better yet, maybe it will be love at first sight. So what if it won’t get the coveted title of being my first love? It will, at least, be called my one true lasting love.
There’s something special about firsts. Your first child. Your child’s first step. The first day of school. The first kiss. The first time. Your life takes a mental snapshot of that moment and stores it deep inside the pockets of your mind. A moment that is now marked in history, irreversible, and irreplaceable. Back when my heart was still untainted, I used to think that falling in love would be the hardest thing to do – as if it were a task on my list of things to do – or a goal to be achieved – or a rites of passage to the ‘couples club.’ But then the love bug bit me, and it felt so natural. And now that I’ve fallen out of love, I think to myself… how the hell will I ever fall in love again?
If only falling in love could be like the first time every time. Maybe it will be… we’ll see. Maybe it will be just as unexpected and enchanting. Better yet, maybe it will be love at first sight. So what if it won’t get the coveted title of being my first love? It will, at least, be called my one true lasting love.
Blast from the Past
Sometimes a song on the radio reminds you of a certain someone. Sometimes a simple drive down a road will lead to a stroll down memory lane. But sometimes the people from your past return themselves, reminding you of the memories left behind. By some odd coincidence, the past couple of months have turned out to be quite boomerangfull; I’ve been running into people from the past at a much greater frequency recently – as if the tectonic plates have shifted once again and the world just got smaller by another degree. For the most part, these people have been of no significance in my life, but they carried some memory or another – memories that I wish to leave buried six feet under. It’s hard enough dealing with people as it is, because even though they’re gone, they still manage to reappear… either in the lyrics of a song, in the butt of a joke, in a box full of mementos, or in the very roots of your subconscious. If only we could put a “do not disturb” sign outside the doors of our minds and hearts, how much simpler would it be keeping people curbed.
But a part of me almost wants to break the chains off the door that I’ve kept securely locked. I want to introduce my past to my present so I can share the tales of my journey. Though I fear that my past wouldn’t recognize me, having lost my virginity to Manhattan and other worldly escapades. A small town girl with big dreams – as the cliché goes – is no longer the standard caption under my profile picture. I’ve aged, as have my perceptions of reality. When you’re growing up, you earnestly try to fit yourself into a mold preconceived by society. But now that I’m two months shy of turning 24, I’ve realized that more often than not, most of us are square pegs in round holes. And that’s okay.
We keep a welcome doormat outside our homes for a reason, I suppose. Whether it’s an uninvited guest or a friendly neighbor, our doors are always open. Come past or future, I’ll be there to greet you.
But a part of me almost wants to break the chains off the door that I’ve kept securely locked. I want to introduce my past to my present so I can share the tales of my journey. Though I fear that my past wouldn’t recognize me, having lost my virginity to Manhattan and other worldly escapades. A small town girl with big dreams – as the cliché goes – is no longer the standard caption under my profile picture. I’ve aged, as have my perceptions of reality. When you’re growing up, you earnestly try to fit yourself into a mold preconceived by society. But now that I’m two months shy of turning 24, I’ve realized that more often than not, most of us are square pegs in round holes. And that’s okay.
We keep a welcome doormat outside our homes for a reason, I suppose. Whether it’s an uninvited guest or a friendly neighbor, our doors are always open. Come past or future, I’ll be there to greet you.
Sign Language
As we begin to reach that inevitable phase in our lives – the holy phase of matrimony – we scrutinize our decisions and question our hearts evermore intensely. Could he be the one? Do I really want to spend the rest of my life with him? What if I change my mind? Is there someone else better out there for me? We ask these questions, as if God himself will appear holding a sign with the answers.
The answer that we’re ultimately all trying to figure out is, how do we know for sure? More so than being afraid of settling down, we’re afraid of settling. We wait for signs to comfort and convince us that we’re treading down the right path – and down the right aisle. Sure, it would be nice if we saw the red octagon sign right before agreeing to a blind date, or a “dead end” sign during a two year courtship, or a flashing green light when your boyfriend proposes. What we don’t realize is that these signs don’t always appear in their traditional forms.
When you’re contemplating engagement with your girlfriend of 4 years, yet you have an uncontrollable tick that forcibly redials your ex’s number at odd hours of the night, that is a sign. When you feel obliged to spend time with a significant other, that is a sign. When the week couldn’t pass by any more slowly because of sheer anticipation of that Friday night date, that is a sign.
These signs have a language of their own, which we slowly learn to decipher as the intensity of these questions grows with each passing day – each passing date – and each passing experience.
The answer that we’re ultimately all trying to figure out is, how do we know for sure? More so than being afraid of settling down, we’re afraid of settling. We wait for signs to comfort and convince us that we’re treading down the right path – and down the right aisle. Sure, it would be nice if we saw the red octagon sign right before agreeing to a blind date, or a “dead end” sign during a two year courtship, or a flashing green light when your boyfriend proposes. What we don’t realize is that these signs don’t always appear in their traditional forms.
When you’re contemplating engagement with your girlfriend of 4 years, yet you have an uncontrollable tick that forcibly redials your ex’s number at odd hours of the night, that is a sign. When you feel obliged to spend time with a significant other, that is a sign. When the week couldn’t pass by any more slowly because of sheer anticipation of that Friday night date, that is a sign.
These signs have a language of their own, which we slowly learn to decipher as the intensity of these questions grows with each passing day – each passing date – and each passing experience.
Born to be... wild?
I noticed something interesting this morning while playing with my 6 month old niece. What I set out to be a random act of play, actually scared the living bejesus out of her. I was carrying her and I kept pretending to drop her, without actually letting go of her one bit. (I simply bent my knees and added some sound effects). She would tightly shut her eyes and grab on to me even more closely each time I made that swooping motion. After the novelty wore off the first time, she clearly expressed her disdain for this “playful” behavior.
What transpired from this unseeming experiment was the realization that people are inherently fearful. They’re born with fear of falling without being caught, born with fear of dying without being saved, born with fear of suffering without cure, born with fear of pain without relief… My question is why? Why is this fear instilled in us from the moment we begin life? Is it because we have an innate understanding of how precious life is? Or is it because we know that it took us nine months to finally see light, but it could only take a split second to return to darkness?
I guess the answers lie in my niece’s mind – a mind waiting to explore the possibilities awaiting her in this world filled with danger. “Don’t worry,” I told her, “I got you.” And that’s when I came to even a bigger realization: I loved her infinitely, and would risk my life without a flinch for her. We may be born with fear of dying, but more importantly, we’re born with the courage to protect those we love.
What transpired from this unseeming experiment was the realization that people are inherently fearful. They’re born with fear of falling without being caught, born with fear of dying without being saved, born with fear of suffering without cure, born with fear of pain without relief… My question is why? Why is this fear instilled in us from the moment we begin life? Is it because we have an innate understanding of how precious life is? Or is it because we know that it took us nine months to finally see light, but it could only take a split second to return to darkness?
I guess the answers lie in my niece’s mind – a mind waiting to explore the possibilities awaiting her in this world filled with danger. “Don’t worry,” I told her, “I got you.” And that’s when I came to even a bigger realization: I loved her infinitely, and would risk my life without a flinch for her. We may be born with fear of dying, but more importantly, we’re born with the courage to protect those we love.
Tick-Tock
As I was sitting at the airport today waiting for my flight home, I weighted my options on how to kill my time: read Cosmo, browse the web, email friends, talk on the phone, listen to music, or eat. Given the amount of time I had, I did 3 out of those 6 things, but I suddenly found all the quiet bustling activities going on around me somewhat more interesting. Planes flying in and out, baggage being tossed from here to there, people waving hellos and goodbyes…and I thought, this is it.
Our lives are always in transit, yet we’re always waiting for something. Waiting to go from being an assistant to manager, to go from being Ms. to Mrs. – waiting for that moment when things will change. I had been preparing myself and waiting for this past week for over a month, and it came and went. And although I felt like my life was being played in fast forward during the entire week, I just put everyone else’s life back home on pause. But sitting at the airport, watching everything made me realize that you can’t press the pause button on life because time never waits for anyone – no matter how long you do.
Mostly we’re always waiting for things to go from now to then… and luckily, the hands on a clock only move in one direction. It’s only a matter of time till months dwindle down to weeks, and weeks to days… until all you have to look forward to is that one single moment.
Our lives are always in transit, yet we’re always waiting for something. Waiting to go from being an assistant to manager, to go from being Ms. to Mrs. – waiting for that moment when things will change. I had been preparing myself and waiting for this past week for over a month, and it came and went. And although I felt like my life was being played in fast forward during the entire week, I just put everyone else’s life back home on pause. But sitting at the airport, watching everything made me realize that you can’t press the pause button on life because time never waits for anyone – no matter how long you do.
Mostly we’re always waiting for things to go from now to then… and luckily, the hands on a clock only move in one direction. It’s only a matter of time till months dwindle down to weeks, and weeks to days… until all you have to look forward to is that one single moment.
Pro-Choice
“Don’t make someone your priority when you are merely their option.” This seems to be the mantra for many victims of the broken heart. Sure, everyone will agree with it and lend their sympathy to those who got burned. But what about the culprits – the heartbreakers – you know, the ones with the options?
Suddenly, being the villain in this ongoing saga of heartbreaker versus heartbreakee, I’ve come to terms with options. If it weren’t for options, would you really know if you like vanilla better than chocolate? Would you prefer Gucci over Coach? Would you watch Monday Night Football or Texas Hold ‘Em? Would you choose this girl or that?
I deal with options at work all day; I understand its value and its recent growth in volume – granted these options deal with matters of the money more so than the heart. But what it has taught me is that having options isn’t such a bad thing after all. Sure, it adds confusion to your already complicated life, but it allows you to pit your choices against one and another, and in the process, help you realize what really matters to you. In fact, options are a means to helping you identify your priorities.
Suddenly, being the villain in this ongoing saga of heartbreaker versus heartbreakee, I’ve come to terms with options. If it weren’t for options, would you really know if you like vanilla better than chocolate? Would you prefer Gucci over Coach? Would you watch Monday Night Football or Texas Hold ‘Em? Would you choose this girl or that?
I deal with options at work all day; I understand its value and its recent growth in volume – granted these options deal with matters of the money more so than the heart. But what it has taught me is that having options isn’t such a bad thing after all. Sure, it adds confusion to your already complicated life, but it allows you to pit your choices against one and another, and in the process, help you realize what really matters to you. In fact, options are a means to helping you identify your priorities.
What Goes Up Must Come Down
I took the plunge. And it was amazing.
At the onset of this summer, I was discussing my summer plans with a friend, and I randomly blurted out I’d like to go skydiving – without putting much thought into it. As I started planning it, my friends looked at me with hesitation because they thought it was a bit out of character for me to want to go jump out a plane. Contrarily, this wasn’t at all unlike me… thrill-seeker, risk-taker, and a bit zany.
At the time I made my reservations and gave my deposit, I was signed up to go alone. But that didn’t stop me. As long as I had someone behind me during the jump, it didn’t really matter if there was someone besides me during it.
So the much anticipated day finally came. I signed the waiver forms. Still excited. I saw others before me plummeting down. Still fearless. I got geared up with the harness. Still unwavering. I got on the plane and started to ascent. Holy shit.
Although, it still didn’t quite hit me until I stood on the ledge of the plane waiting to fall off. As I looked down from the 15,000 altitude, all I could think was, “there is no turning back now.” And off we went. I can’t recall exactly all the thoughts running through my mind as I was flying down at 150 mph, but in retrospect, I knew I felt strong. It reminded me that letting go isn’t that scary, after all. In fact, it’s quite exhilarating, because it allows you to see the world from a different perspective (quite literally in this case). Aside from reminding me of the obvious laws of gravity, it also reminded that sometimes things just have a way of falling into place.
At the onset of this summer, I was discussing my summer plans with a friend, and I randomly blurted out I’d like to go skydiving – without putting much thought into it. As I started planning it, my friends looked at me with hesitation because they thought it was a bit out of character for me to want to go jump out a plane. Contrarily, this wasn’t at all unlike me… thrill-seeker, risk-taker, and a bit zany.
At the time I made my reservations and gave my deposit, I was signed up to go alone. But that didn’t stop me. As long as I had someone behind me during the jump, it didn’t really matter if there was someone besides me during it.
So the much anticipated day finally came. I signed the waiver forms. Still excited. I saw others before me plummeting down. Still fearless. I got geared up with the harness. Still unwavering. I got on the plane and started to ascent. Holy shit.
Although, it still didn’t quite hit me until I stood on the ledge of the plane waiting to fall off. As I looked down from the 15,000 altitude, all I could think was, “there is no turning back now.” And off we went. I can’t recall exactly all the thoughts running through my mind as I was flying down at 150 mph, but in retrospect, I knew I felt strong. It reminded me that letting go isn’t that scary, after all. In fact, it’s quite exhilarating, because it allows you to see the world from a different perspective (quite literally in this case). Aside from reminding me of the obvious laws of gravity, it also reminded that sometimes things just have a way of falling into place.
20/20
After weeks of squinting and denying, I have decided to finally succumb. I officially need to start wearing glasses. Not that I have a problem sticking a plastic frame on my face, or even sticking lenses in my eyes… I just have a problem admitting that I can’t see clearly. It’s a problem that still pains many of us; more than just strain our eyes, blurred vision often distorts our thinking. We mistaken arrogance with confidence, greed with ambition, comfort with love, revenge with justice…
It’s ironic that we really don’t have eyes at the back of our head, because we tend to see things clearly once they have passed – rather than when they are right in front of us. Sometimes the very thing that we’re searching for is right before us, yet we look hither and thither, like bats in a cave.
I used to be of the belief that seeing is believing, but then I realized how much more accurate the other adage, “love is blind” truly is. Although many of us are probably guilty of falling into that trap, you can get out of it by simply removing the blindfold off your mind. Let’s face it, your heart and mind may never see eye to eye on certain things, but that divide is often what brings us to a clear 20/20.
It’s ironic that we really don’t have eyes at the back of our head, because we tend to see things clearly once they have passed – rather than when they are right in front of us. Sometimes the very thing that we’re searching for is right before us, yet we look hither and thither, like bats in a cave.
I used to be of the belief that seeing is believing, but then I realized how much more accurate the other adage, “love is blind” truly is. Although many of us are probably guilty of falling into that trap, you can get out of it by simply removing the blindfold off your mind. Let’s face it, your heart and mind may never see eye to eye on certain things, but that divide is often what brings us to a clear 20/20.
Excess Baggage
When people walk into our lives and move into our hearts, some tend to leave their stuff behind – even long after they’re gone. For those of you speculating if this is in regards to me and my ex, let me clarify and give you a big resounding NO. It’s simply an observation – somewhat annoying – albeit, an observation I’ve made.
People boast about moving on and letting go, and turn on the “vacancy” sign to the doors to their hearts, but fail to throw out the luggage that still remains boxed up inside.
Airlines lose our baggage all the time, so why is it so difficult for us to get rid of ours?
People boast about moving on and letting go, and turn on the “vacancy” sign to the doors to their hearts, but fail to throw out the luggage that still remains boxed up inside.
Airlines lose our baggage all the time, so why is it so difficult for us to get rid of ours?
Pop!
I always found it a bit amusing when people said that “they need to find themselves” – as if all their life, they were wandering like lost souls. But I get it now, mainly because lately I’ve began to discover myself increasingly. Yes, I’m aware of how extremely cheesy and clichéd that sounds, but for lack of originality, I’ll continue… Although I was never on a “mission” of any sort – or none that I care to acknowledge – I realize that I have learned more about myself in the past year than I might possibly have in my entire life. I guess I sort of was living my life in a bubble, because although I could see the possibilities that lay outside of it, I never dared to burst out of it.
Whether it was a date, a vacation, a celebration, a dispute, or even a simple conversation… I learned something about myself and the world swirling around me. Everyone has their own idiosyncrasies, so you’re all bound to reach this point through some unconventional way or another. The point when you realize
…that your strength comes from the mind – not muscles
…that love originates from free will – not the heart
…that serenity comes from knowledge – not ignorance
...that respect is earned by speaking up - not kneeling down
…that happiness is created by you – not delivered to you
Whether it was a date, a vacation, a celebration, a dispute, or even a simple conversation… I learned something about myself and the world swirling around me. Everyone has their own idiosyncrasies, so you’re all bound to reach this point through some unconventional way or another. The point when you realize
…that your strength comes from the mind – not muscles
…that love originates from free will – not the heart
…that serenity comes from knowledge – not ignorance
...that respect is earned by speaking up - not kneeling down
…that happiness is created by you – not delivered to you
Catch & Release
Every once in a while, something great comes along unexpectedly, but we let it go for reasons unknown. A few months ago, I wrote a blog about the beauty of being chased and never getting caught, but I failed to realize that sometimes you can get so caught up in your emotions, that you forget that you already fell in the trap you’ve been trying to avoid.
I was supposed to have gone fishing this past weekend – I know, I see the irony of it considering I’m vegetarian. But I’ll take any excuse to go on a boat and soak in some summer fun (and free food, of course). I’m against the whole concept of fishing actually – watching your soon-to-be tuna sandwich/sushi roll hanging off of a lifeline, gasping for air – just seems cruel. But I decided to go along anyway, to watch the whole spectacle take place.
Then – as my love for analogies continues to grow stranger by the day – I realized how fishing resembles so many of our lives. Often times, we’ll end up reeling in garbage off of the bait we’ve set for the fish. But then, something pulls at your heartstrings and starts pulling your rod closer to it – and before you know it, you’ve actually caught something you’ve been waiting for all along. But once it’s hooked, do you proceed to catch it or release it?
There may be plenty of fish in the sea… but if you catch the right one, just one is enough.
I was supposed to have gone fishing this past weekend – I know, I see the irony of it considering I’m vegetarian. But I’ll take any excuse to go on a boat and soak in some summer fun (and free food, of course). I’m against the whole concept of fishing actually – watching your soon-to-be tuna sandwich/sushi roll hanging off of a lifeline, gasping for air – just seems cruel. But I decided to go along anyway, to watch the whole spectacle take place.
Then – as my love for analogies continues to grow stranger by the day – I realized how fishing resembles so many of our lives. Often times, we’ll end up reeling in garbage off of the bait we’ve set for the fish. But then, something pulls at your heartstrings and starts pulling your rod closer to it – and before you know it, you’ve actually caught something you’ve been waiting for all along. But once it’s hooked, do you proceed to catch it or release it?
There may be plenty of fish in the sea… but if you catch the right one, just one is enough.
Gone...
People have been asking me what my favorite part of Europe was. And I’d name some cities and maybe tell a few funny stories. But the most memorable part of the trip actually occurred today – yes, after the fact.
While in Ibiza, my friends and I met some guys from Australia, and us all being brown, we naturally clicked. We shared a dance, a meal, a drink, and above all… a good time. And as all parting friends do, we promised to keep in touch and perhaps even pay a visit across the Atlantic.
But before we even had a chance to reminisce about all the memories created, we received the most tragic and unexpected news of all: Ramnik, one of the Australians, drowned last week while swimming in a river in Munich. Even as I write this, the words feel raw because I’m still in denial of it. I just met him three weeks ago! Here was a great, fun loving guy that walked into our lives by fate. And here goes a guy who was taken away by that same wretched fate.
I guess in the end, you always tend to think about the beginning. And I can’t help but think about how he first approached me, and the last time I saw him… People always say God works in mysterious ways. I guess it’s true, because nothing quite explains how a seemingly normal life suddenly turns unfair. Or how life itself turns into death.
But he didn’t die in vain, because if every day is lived as if it were your last, then I know he was alive and kicking just as much then as always. He drowned in a sea of memories, leaving us all thirsty for more.
*RIP Nik*“Good day mate!”
While in Ibiza, my friends and I met some guys from Australia, and us all being brown, we naturally clicked. We shared a dance, a meal, a drink, and above all… a good time. And as all parting friends do, we promised to keep in touch and perhaps even pay a visit across the Atlantic.
But before we even had a chance to reminisce about all the memories created, we received the most tragic and unexpected news of all: Ramnik, one of the Australians, drowned last week while swimming in a river in Munich. Even as I write this, the words feel raw because I’m still in denial of it. I just met him three weeks ago! Here was a great, fun loving guy that walked into our lives by fate. And here goes a guy who was taken away by that same wretched fate.
I guess in the end, you always tend to think about the beginning. And I can’t help but think about how he first approached me, and the last time I saw him… People always say God works in mysterious ways. I guess it’s true, because nothing quite explains how a seemingly normal life suddenly turns unfair. Or how life itself turns into death.
But he didn’t die in vain, because if every day is lived as if it were your last, then I know he was alive and kicking just as much then as always. He drowned in a sea of memories, leaving us all thirsty for more.
*RIP Nik*“Good day mate!”
Oyster Wings
“The world is your oyster;” I’ve heard (and used) this saying quite frequently (and even more so recently). But what in the world does my world have to do with an oyster? I don’t even eat seafood! So with the help of my dear friend, Mr. Google, I learned of its true origin and meaning. Basically, “oysters produce pearls, objects of great value. Once you have the oyster, it gives up the pearl without much of a fight.” Hence, if the world is your oyster then it’s a place where you can get something of great value with ease.
Frankly speaking, nothing of great value in this world ever comes with great ease. Often times when we really want something – like really-genuinely-deeply want something, to the point where you begin to plan your life around it, if it were to come true – you take a leap. You leap and hope you can fly, because otherwise you just drop like a rock, wondering the whole way down, why in the hell did you jump? But the only thing that makes you feel like you can fly is the very thing that gave you the wings in the first place.
And sometimes you will stumble and fall, but you dust it off and try again. You can perceive yourself as either a failure the first time around, or determined the second time around… but despite how you see the circumstances, the circumstances in itself are an opportunity to turn things around. The fact of the matter is… you never know which way the wind will blow… you just have to be prepared to fly.
Frankly speaking, nothing of great value in this world ever comes with great ease. Often times when we really want something – like really-genuinely-deeply want something, to the point where you begin to plan your life around it, if it were to come true – you take a leap. You leap and hope you can fly, because otherwise you just drop like a rock, wondering the whole way down, why in the hell did you jump? But the only thing that makes you feel like you can fly is the very thing that gave you the wings in the first place.
And sometimes you will stumble and fall, but you dust it off and try again. You can perceive yourself as either a failure the first time around, or determined the second time around… but despite how you see the circumstances, the circumstances in itself are an opportunity to turn things around. The fact of the matter is… you never know which way the wind will blow… you just have to be prepared to fly.
Bon Appetit
That little bulb on the top of my head is turned on. I get it, but I just can’t grasp it. How often do we dish out advice to others, yet draw a blank when it comes to following it ourselves? We’re all hypocrites when it comes down to it. It’s as if we’re salesmen out to sell a product that we don’t truly believe in ourselves.
Well, here’s something I do believe in: love. It’s out there. I found it once. Then I lost it. But I realized that I was looking for it in all the wrong places. It’s sort of like searching for a 4 year missing child at his contemporary age of 10. He obviously won’t sound the same, look the same, or even act the same. So, why am I looking for the same love that I had 5 years ago… now?
But if it’s possible to make two different breakfasts, omelet and scrambled eggs, using the same key ingredient, then perhaps it shouldn’t be so difficult cooking up a new recipe this time around. I know that makes no sense at all to you, but it makes sense up here.. and that's all that matters.
Well, here’s something I do believe in: love. It’s out there. I found it once. Then I lost it. But I realized that I was looking for it in all the wrong places. It’s sort of like searching for a 4 year missing child at his contemporary age of 10. He obviously won’t sound the same, look the same, or even act the same. So, why am I looking for the same love that I had 5 years ago… now?
But if it’s possible to make two different breakfasts, omelet and scrambled eggs, using the same key ingredient, then perhaps it shouldn’t be so difficult cooking up a new recipe this time around. I know that makes no sense at all to you, but it makes sense up here.. and that's all that matters.
The Making Of...
Movies are the stuff dreams are made of – especially Bollywood ones. Those characters just know all the right things to say, with a perfect hint of smirk on their lips and a spark in their eyes. It’s as if the actors performed an open heart surgery on a girl and took notes on all the things that make it melt. But as much as I love watching those melodramatic Indian movies, I hate those suckers for giving me such unrealistic expectations of love.
How come in my history of running after the subway and trying to hail a cab… I have not once met a guy waiting at the other end with his arm extended out to me? Not once have I been to a reception where my hair was blowing ever so smoothly (the entire time). Nor have I ever been so lucky to have been the fancy of a debonair and be pursued relentlessly with his charming (and perhaps melodious) ways.
I clearly have this all wrong. Maybe my prince charming isn’t going to be the groom’s bestman, or a guy I meet on a trip to Europe, or the friend I’ve grown up with. Lets face it, I’ll probably just meet him online or at a speed dating event. Or most likely, at an overcrowded club in the city while he clumsily spills his drink on me. Maybe I’m not supposed to find true love inside an expensive restaurant, wearing an expensive dress, drinking expensive wine.
Whether you realize it or not, we subconsciously draw many of our expectations from these fictional plots. My past relationship was quite tumultuous and dramatic – almost as good as a B grade Bollywood movie. It had all the right ingredients: innocent girl, bad boy, the vixen, family disapproval, betrayal, passion, suspense… the only thing missing was some background music – and a happy ending. Sometimes I even think that maybe he’ll show up at the last minute at my mandap, perfectly poised, armed with a filmy dialogue and profess his love and win everyone’s heart over. "Cut!" Back to reality.
I guess in the ongoing battle of “life imitating art” vs. “art imitating life” there should be a tie. Because ultimately, our lives are much like a movie in which we are the lead – and sometimes the villain or even just an extra. Maybe I just need a new agent to get me better roles.
How come in my history of running after the subway and trying to hail a cab… I have not once met a guy waiting at the other end with his arm extended out to me? Not once have I been to a reception where my hair was blowing ever so smoothly (the entire time). Nor have I ever been so lucky to have been the fancy of a debonair and be pursued relentlessly with his charming (and perhaps melodious) ways.
I clearly have this all wrong. Maybe my prince charming isn’t going to be the groom’s bestman, or a guy I meet on a trip to Europe, or the friend I’ve grown up with. Lets face it, I’ll probably just meet him online or at a speed dating event. Or most likely, at an overcrowded club in the city while he clumsily spills his drink on me. Maybe I’m not supposed to find true love inside an expensive restaurant, wearing an expensive dress, drinking expensive wine.
Whether you realize it or not, we subconsciously draw many of our expectations from these fictional plots. My past relationship was quite tumultuous and dramatic – almost as good as a B grade Bollywood movie. It had all the right ingredients: innocent girl, bad boy, the vixen, family disapproval, betrayal, passion, suspense… the only thing missing was some background music – and a happy ending. Sometimes I even think that maybe he’ll show up at the last minute at my mandap, perfectly poised, armed with a filmy dialogue and profess his love and win everyone’s heart over. "Cut!" Back to reality.
I guess in the ongoing battle of “life imitating art” vs. “art imitating life” there should be a tie. Because ultimately, our lives are much like a movie in which we are the lead – and sometimes the villain or even just an extra. Maybe I just need a new agent to get me better roles.
Guilty Pleasures
Whether it’s behind closed doors, or submerged in a web of lies, people succumb to guilty pleasures in innocent ways, more often than they realize. But we comfort ourselves by insisting that maybe it’s not so wrong, after all. It’s as if we plant the seeds of the forbidden fruit, knowing we can’t reap the fruit of our labor, in all its succulent glory. But we water it regardless, in hopes no one will see the tree grow. And even then, one bite just leaves you hungry for more.
It’s like the proverb of the tree in the forest… if no one knows, does that make you innocent until proven guilty?
It’s like the proverb of the tree in the forest… if no one knows, does that make you innocent until proven guilty?
The Great Wall
As I was driving today, I saw a pick-up truck carrying an oversized bird’s cage in the back. And I thought, there goes another poor bird about to get its wings clipped. Then I realized how much I resemble that bird…
Growing up, we’re sheltered inside a cage and told of all the various things not to do, such as:
- don’t talk to strangers
- don’t eat meat
- don’t do drugs
- don’t have sex before marriage
How different would our lives be if we had no limits, no boundaries, no restrictions, no no’s? Would our lives be any more colorful if we had dared to draw outside the lines? I can pinpoint the exact barriers that stand in the way of my happiness – or at least, in the way of where I think I’ll find happiness.
I would love love love to move someplace far far away. Someplace quiet yet bustling with excitement; someplace new and exotic, but old and familiar. But something tells me, that any sentence beginning with “Mom, I want to move to another country…” will probably not be well received. And really, who am I kidding? I would be on the next flight to Newark after suffering from homesickness for a month.
Our lives are never truly lived as “freely” as we claim. We inadvertently refrain ourselves from doing many things that would probably be considered, “crossing the line.” My ex has expressed his desire to rekindle the relationship – but just one small glitch – his girlfriend, aka barrier #1. Meet barriers 2, 3, and 4: my family, friends, and dignity.
I want a job where my sole motivation for work is the work itself – not the money. But I remind myself that life gets expensive – especially with my uncontrollable fetish for all things food and accessories.
But if the Berlin wall can be broken down, then what’s holding up the walls built around us? I guess only after we break down these walls, can we truly break away…
Growing up, we’re sheltered inside a cage and told of all the various things not to do, such as:
- don’t talk to strangers
- don’t eat meat
- don’t do drugs
- don’t have sex before marriage
How different would our lives be if we had no limits, no boundaries, no restrictions, no no’s? Would our lives be any more colorful if we had dared to draw outside the lines? I can pinpoint the exact barriers that stand in the way of my happiness – or at least, in the way of where I think I’ll find happiness.
I would love love love to move someplace far far away. Someplace quiet yet bustling with excitement; someplace new and exotic, but old and familiar. But something tells me, that any sentence beginning with “Mom, I want to move to another country…” will probably not be well received. And really, who am I kidding? I would be on the next flight to Newark after suffering from homesickness for a month.
Our lives are never truly lived as “freely” as we claim. We inadvertently refrain ourselves from doing many things that would probably be considered, “crossing the line.” My ex has expressed his desire to rekindle the relationship – but just one small glitch – his girlfriend, aka barrier #1. Meet barriers 2, 3, and 4: my family, friends, and dignity.
I want a job where my sole motivation for work is the work itself – not the money. But I remind myself that life gets expensive – especially with my uncontrollable fetish for all things food and accessories.
But if the Berlin wall can be broken down, then what’s holding up the walls built around us? I guess only after we break down these walls, can we truly break away…
Memory Full
They eat you up inside. Randomly make you laugh out loud. Blur the lines between yesterday and today. Memories have this phenomenal ability to conjure up the strongest emotions in just matters of a split second. Whether it’s the scent of a perfume or a moment captured on film, the slightest of hints open up the gates to memories. And no matter how hard you bolt those gates shut, something always manages to slip right through.
We create new memories constantly, and they begin to pile on top of the old ones. But somehow, like a game of Jenga, move one piece out of place, and everything comes tumbling down. Sometimes we are our biggest enemies, because we hurt ourselves the most by allowing our memories to hold us back. Our minds play a tug of war between letting go and holding on. It’s as if we put our life on pause, and wait for someone else to press play.
It’s so easy to delete a picture off a camera to free up memory – if only we could function the same way.
We create new memories constantly, and they begin to pile on top of the old ones. But somehow, like a game of Jenga, move one piece out of place, and everything comes tumbling down. Sometimes we are our biggest enemies, because we hurt ourselves the most by allowing our memories to hold us back. Our minds play a tug of war between letting go and holding on. It’s as if we put our life on pause, and wait for someone else to press play.
It’s so easy to delete a picture off a camera to free up memory – if only we could function the same way.
Breaking News
Has the war in Iraq ended? Are the presidential candidates losing momentum? Is Britney Spears’ life no longer of interest? Is the AIDS epidemic not worth mentioning? Then why the hell are all the journalists in the United States so gung-ho over Paris Hilton? Since when did an heiress turned sex video vixen turned club-hopping bimbo become worthy of live coverage? So much that radio helicopter pilots who normally report traffic to commuters are now dispatched to hover over Hilton’s home to keep the citizens aware of the latest developments in the “trial of the year.” So much that it has even compelled me to write a blog on it.
Admittedly though, being an avid E! news viewer, I am guilty of following the tragic turn of events in Ms. Hilton’s life. I mean, how dare the judicial system confine this fragile young woman in prison, then revoke her rights to house arrest, and then sentence her back to prison for 45 days? Justice truly must be blind if all the bling on her fingers, and the makeup on her face couldn’t have stirred the judge. Perhaps this time spent in solitude will give her time to introspect and gather material for her upcoming memoir. I can just picture the title now: “Paris in Prison: That’s Hot” – or better yet, “The Simple Life Turned Complicated."
Choice vs. Chance
When we’re born, we get our janam kundalis made to see what lays ahead of us. Before we get married, we get them matched with our partner’s to ascertain our compatibilities. When we see the horoscopes section in magazines, we quickly scan to find our zodiac sign. If we rely on the stars, the planets, and these so-called fortune tellers, why do we even bother making any life altering decisions at all? If what’s meant to be will happen despite your earnest efforts to change the course of destiny, is it really worth making a choice when you can leave it to chance?
We all tell ourselves, “everything happens for a reason,” to make light out of a situation – most often not knowing what that reason is. I got a speeding ticket a few months back. Reason: the cop wanted to fill his quota (that’s of course debatable by court). The perfect job slipped out of my fingers. Reason: my dream job awaits me (that’s the optimist in me talking). I got burnt by a douchebag. Reason: a dog deserves a bitch, hence, he clearly didn’t deserve to be with me.
But I chose to speed. I chose to accept that job. I chose to fall in love. I just happened to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time, and with the wrong person. Often times, the choices we make are not really by choice at all. You wanted to get married by 28, but you’re surfing on Match.com on the eve of your 30th birthday. It’s no longer just a matter of making choices… it’s about taking chances. And since life always takes chances with us, it’s time we return the favor. Who knows, you just might end up right where you’re supposed to…
0 to 60 in 4 Seconds
recently talked about how change is ubiquitous, but I failed to mention also how abrupt it truly is. Our lives are much like the weather – minus the forecast – you never know when it will rain, and when it will be sunny again. I was happy again, or at least beginning to feel content and at peace with myself. But of course, if that remained to be the case, then life just wouldn’t be life.
I’m grateful for the things I have, but being human, I can’t help but focus on the things missing. Love life… nonexistent. Job security… in shambles. Grad school… a question mark. Whenever I’m down, my Mom has an interesting way of pointing out the greater hardships others faced throughout their lives – as if comparing my situation to theirs will make mine appear minuscule. I suppose it works for the first five minutes, after which the dose begins to wear off and I revert to my moping self.
But for some reason, this time around, I’m ok. Or at least I think I am. It’s as if God has been on a mission to break me out of my shell and make me look at life with eyes wide open. And what a sight it is. I know there’s a lot more to see, but at the rate my life has been going from 0 to 60 (and back) in the span of one year, I’m not sure if I can keep up.
I guess the important thing to remember is that even if you can’t keep up, keep your chin up. There will come a point in your life when days feel like weeks, and minutes feel like hours. Anticipation sometimes is purely what keeps us going. Either we're waiting for something to pass, or waiting for something to arrive. One minute you may feel invincible, and at moments notice, feel completely defeated.
Time doesn't wait for anyone... at times, you'll speed ahead or fall back... but in the end, the race is only with yourself.
I’m grateful for the things I have, but being human, I can’t help but focus on the things missing. Love life… nonexistent. Job security… in shambles. Grad school… a question mark. Whenever I’m down, my Mom has an interesting way of pointing out the greater hardships others faced throughout their lives – as if comparing my situation to theirs will make mine appear minuscule. I suppose it works for the first five minutes, after which the dose begins to wear off and I revert to my moping self.
But for some reason, this time around, I’m ok. Or at least I think I am. It’s as if God has been on a mission to break me out of my shell and make me look at life with eyes wide open. And what a sight it is. I know there’s a lot more to see, but at the rate my life has been going from 0 to 60 (and back) in the span of one year, I’m not sure if I can keep up.
I guess the important thing to remember is that even if you can’t keep up, keep your chin up. There will come a point in your life when days feel like weeks, and minutes feel like hours. Anticipation sometimes is purely what keeps us going. Either we're waiting for something to pass, or waiting for something to arrive. One minute you may feel invincible, and at moments notice, feel completely defeated.
Time doesn't wait for anyone... at times, you'll speed ahead or fall back... but in the end, the race is only with yourself.
History and Mystery
When we’re born, we come into this world as a present with a mysterious future waiting to unfold day by day. And with each passing day, we begin to write the pages of our past. Sometimes a past is so everlasting, that it lingers on for generations to come.
I recently visited the Holocaust Memorial Museum in DC and felt maybe a grain of what those victims endured just a few decades ago. Here lies a past that is so vivid, that it almost feels a bit raw. Everyone has a past – just not everyone chooses to tell his/her story. Every city has a past – DC just happens to be the place where history congregates itself.
It’s been said, “to move on in life, you have to let the past go.” But what is it that you let go of and still hold on to? People perish, but memories only fade away. Wounds may heal, but some scar for life – like those of the Holocaust survivors who had camp ID numbers tattooed on their arms. They were stripped of their identities, only to be replaced by a mere statistic in one of the greatest catastrophes in history.
We come into this world with a blank book, which we fill with each passing chapter. Sometimes all you need to move on is turn the page, because history only repeats itself for those who never learn from it.
I recently visited the Holocaust Memorial Museum in DC and felt maybe a grain of what those victims endured just a few decades ago. Here lies a past that is so vivid, that it almost feels a bit raw. Everyone has a past – just not everyone chooses to tell his/her story. Every city has a past – DC just happens to be the place where history congregates itself.
It’s been said, “to move on in life, you have to let the past go.” But what is it that you let go of and still hold on to? People perish, but memories only fade away. Wounds may heal, but some scar for life – like those of the Holocaust survivors who had camp ID numbers tattooed on their arms. They were stripped of their identities, only to be replaced by a mere statistic in one of the greatest catastrophes in history.
We come into this world with a blank book, which we fill with each passing chapter. Sometimes all you need to move on is turn the page, because history only repeats itself for those who never learn from it.
Small Step, Big Leap
Sometimes the smallest of things that come naturally to you suddenly make the biggest difference when they’re no longer in the shadows of your subconscious. A few days ago, I developed a lump in my throat and it has since become the bane of my existence. Swallowing, yawning, eating, drinking… things that were quite innate, suddenly came to the forefront. It’s as if my throat was screaming (no pun intended) to get my attention. I get it, you play a pivotal role in my daily bodily functions. Now stop being a pain in the neck (pun intended)!
So it got me thinking about other things that, at the surface seem nominal – and almost trivial – yet are so significant. Like the time you say “I love you” to your wife before going to bed at night. And the way you keep a picture of an old flame stashed in your wallet, along with other valuables like cash, credit cards, and condoms. Or the time you call up a friend after her big interview at that big firm in the big apple. Perhaps if it weren’t for these small gestures, you may never be able to see the big picture.
But it also makes me wonder… say, you marry your fiancé, but you call your ex on the eve of your wedding. Which is the bigger mistake? Sometimes the smallest acts outweigh the biggest moments in your life, all in the blink of an eye. A blink – a seemingly insignificant and a naturally reoccurring reaction – is quite a powerful phenomenon… it can expunge dirt and secrete tears.
Essentially everything is broken down into its smaller components. Days into hours, hours into minutes, minutes into seconds. Actions into words, words into thoughts, thoughts into character. Now that’s not so hard to swallow.
So it got me thinking about other things that, at the surface seem nominal – and almost trivial – yet are so significant. Like the time you say “I love you” to your wife before going to bed at night. And the way you keep a picture of an old flame stashed in your wallet, along with other valuables like cash, credit cards, and condoms. Or the time you call up a friend after her big interview at that big firm in the big apple. Perhaps if it weren’t for these small gestures, you may never be able to see the big picture.
But it also makes me wonder… say, you marry your fiancé, but you call your ex on the eve of your wedding. Which is the bigger mistake? Sometimes the smallest acts outweigh the biggest moments in your life, all in the blink of an eye. A blink – a seemingly insignificant and a naturally reoccurring reaction – is quite a powerful phenomenon… it can expunge dirt and secrete tears.
Essentially everything is broken down into its smaller components. Days into hours, hours into minutes, minutes into seconds. Actions into words, words into thoughts, thoughts into character. Now that’s not so hard to swallow.
Catch Me If You Can
I’ve seen this happen everywhere: boy sees girl, boy likes girl, boy pursues girl, girl finally concedes, boy gets bored. It all leads to one simple question: why? Why the chase, why the hoopla? At first, there’s passion, lust, and that ravenous desire to do everything possible (and beyond) to capture the object of your affection’s heart. You know, like the time he did something really unexpectedly sweet… like brought you brownies to cheer you up, because nothing quite hits the spot like 500 calories in all the wrong places. But somewhere down the road it all turns into… sheer blah. Forget brownies, you’ll be lucky to get chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Don’t get me wrong… I’m not scorned… just a bit jaded. And it just makes me wonder… if all the fun is in the chase, then maybe it’s better to never get caught… because you always want what you don’t have.
Change is a Four Letter Word
Yes, I know how to count, but that’s a saying (apparently cited by someone really philosophical but poor in math). One of my favorite quotes is “the only constant in life is change.” But if change is so damn frequent, then why is it so hard for people to change? Surely we change everything… our jobs, partners, house, cars, values, profile pictures, the color of our hair… so why not ourselves?
Whether you admit it or not, everyone is guilty of trying/hoping/wishing to change someone into something they’re not. “Oh he’ll change” we tell ourselves, in hopes of denying what’s so blatantly obvious. Changing our ways and habits is like trying to keep a sand castle built before the ocean washes it away. No matter how big your castle is, no matter how far away you build it… the water always seeps through. Sometimes people change for what appears to be forever, where in reality, is just a matter of time before the next wave hits.
But of course, as always, there are exceptions to the rule. An ex convict can truly reform once he leaves prison and become a civilized individual (or a rap artist, for that matter). A mother can abstain from partying and start changing diapers. A student can start staying after school for tutoring instead of detention. A boyfriend can start being faithful after cheating the first ten times. (OR maybe not! – Just remember ladies, you can transform a frog into a prince charming, but you can’t turn a dog into a man).
The simple truth is that change is a necessity. If you had the mentality of a 15 year old, you would never be able to raise a child as a 25 year old. If you had the experience of a novice, you would never reach the heights of a CEO. Some changes are inevitable, some intended, and yet some simply impossible…
Whether you admit it or not, everyone is guilty of trying/hoping/wishing to change someone into something they’re not. “Oh he’ll change” we tell ourselves, in hopes of denying what’s so blatantly obvious. Changing our ways and habits is like trying to keep a sand castle built before the ocean washes it away. No matter how big your castle is, no matter how far away you build it… the water always seeps through. Sometimes people change for what appears to be forever, where in reality, is just a matter of time before the next wave hits.
But of course, as always, there are exceptions to the rule. An ex convict can truly reform once he leaves prison and become a civilized individual (or a rap artist, for that matter). A mother can abstain from partying and start changing diapers. A student can start staying after school for tutoring instead of detention. A boyfriend can start being faithful after cheating the first ten times. (OR maybe not! – Just remember ladies, you can transform a frog into a prince charming, but you can’t turn a dog into a man).
The simple truth is that change is a necessity. If you had the mentality of a 15 year old, you would never be able to raise a child as a 25 year old. If you had the experience of a novice, you would never reach the heights of a CEO. Some changes are inevitable, some intended, and yet some simply impossible…
Risky Business
We take risks everyday – granted, some are bigger than others. But they’re a necessary evil in life. We take them to get ahead in our profession, to make an extra buck in an investment, or to take a chance in love. Usually we can hedge our bets in money matters by formulating a plan B, but there are no back ups when it comes to matters of the heart.
I recently met a woman – incredibly beautiful, intelligent, a devoted wife, a loving mother, and a successful leader in her profession. But somewhere along the line, this picture perfect life became marred by her husband. The same husband she married for love – not for money, willingly – not by settling, forever – not until he got bored of it. Who would’ve thought that the same man that vowed “till death do us part” could now bear to live without her? Yes, divorce is quite the norm, but why do people even get married if they go into a marriage keeping divorce as an option? (A note to all the finance majors: I hope this isn’t what the class “Future and Options” was about in college).
It makes me wonder if “commitment” and “loyalty” are just empty and hallow words like that of most men’s hearts. Seems as if the meaning of risk is changing in itself, where staying on top means running someone down, and love means no strings attached. But living a life without taking risks is like – for a lack of better analogy – eating an orange with all the juice sucked out of it… there’s just no flavor to it.
Maybe it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. Maybe you can only truly start building your life after it falls apart.
I recently met a woman – incredibly beautiful, intelligent, a devoted wife, a loving mother, and a successful leader in her profession. But somewhere along the line, this picture perfect life became marred by her husband. The same husband she married for love – not for money, willingly – not by settling, forever – not until he got bored of it. Who would’ve thought that the same man that vowed “till death do us part” could now bear to live without her? Yes, divorce is quite the norm, but why do people even get married if they go into a marriage keeping divorce as an option? (A note to all the finance majors: I hope this isn’t what the class “Future and Options” was about in college).
It makes me wonder if “commitment” and “loyalty” are just empty and hallow words like that of most men’s hearts. Seems as if the meaning of risk is changing in itself, where staying on top means running someone down, and love means no strings attached. But living a life without taking risks is like – for a lack of better analogy – eating an orange with all the juice sucked out of it… there’s just no flavor to it.
Maybe it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. Maybe you can only truly start building your life after it falls apart.
Connection Lost
People have an insatiable need to stay connected to other people. Why else would millions of people be registered on sites like these? Why else would wireless companies continue to attract new subscribers?
Whether it’s a missed call or an email from a friend, it reminds us how close by someone is… even when they’re nowhere near you. I think it really originates from our fear of being lonely. Simply bumping into a stranger can remind us that we’re never really alone; but even being in a room full of a hundred strangers couldn’t equate to the pleasure you get from sitting with a single friend. Maybe that’s what you call the power of one.
I guess beyond just staying connected, what people are really searching for is the ability to connect with someone. And sometimes as much as we want to, we just can’t – if only it were as easy as connecting to the internet with a click of a button.
Whether it’s a missed call or an email from a friend, it reminds us how close by someone is… even when they’re nowhere near you. I think it really originates from our fear of being lonely. Simply bumping into a stranger can remind us that we’re never really alone; but even being in a room full of a hundred strangers couldn’t equate to the pleasure you get from sitting with a single friend. Maybe that’s what you call the power of one.
I guess beyond just staying connected, what people are really searching for is the ability to connect with someone. And sometimes as much as we want to, we just can’t – if only it were as easy as connecting to the internet with a click of a button.
Social (R)evolution
Science says homo sapiens have evolved from an earlier form of species – the ape is it? Well, it’s not important. I think what human beings should have truly evolved from are butterflies. Think about it… they’re born as caterpillars, live inside a cocoon, and finally metamorphosis into a beautiful form… pollinating one flower to the next – much like us.
We’re born crawling around, live a sheltered life (as many of my fellow South Asian friends can attest), and finally (with the help of make-up and digital age), we transform into beautiful creatures. But the most striking similarity lies in our nature to act as – you guessed it – a social butterfly. We walk in and out of people’s lives – more often than not – unannounced.
You never know when a stranger will turn into a friend… and vice versa. Sometimes people come into our lives and plant the seeds to a lifelong relationship, and you watch it blossom together through the years. But relationships – much like real flowers – can wilt and die; and I’ve witnessed and endured many such relationships. People will come and people will go. Ok, let me rephrase that: people will come, people will go, and some will keep coming back like the common cold.
But have you ever wondered, that if you were to meet the people you’ve been friends with for years – today – would you still become friends? Lucky for my close friends, the answer is yes (of course, they’re reading this so it’s an obligatory statement). Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about certain individuals (don’t worry, if you’re reading this, then it’s not you). I realized today how important it is to truly grow yourself before you try to grow up with someone else. You often meet someone during the prime raging-hormones stage in life, and after years of movies, dinners, parties, and trips together… you realize this person is nothing you ever wanted – yet suddenly everything you need. You often become blinded by your comfort zone that you fail to see how truly uncanny your relationship is.
So unless if you truly do live inside a cocoon, you will invariably meet various people in your life. (And if you’re on myspace, your odds of meeting people are dramatically improved). Everyone that walks into your life plays a role – albeit, some play the lead while others serve as the extra. But no matter what, everyone will leave a mark and make a difference – yes, even the mailman. There are those that you’ll call when you just need a drink – and those that you’ll call after you’ve had one too many. There will be that one that you just can’t forget – and the one whose name you can’t recall. And finally, there will be those who stand as the wind beneath your wings – and those that will knock the wind right out of you.
We’re born crawling around, live a sheltered life (as many of my fellow South Asian friends can attest), and finally (with the help of make-up and digital age), we transform into beautiful creatures. But the most striking similarity lies in our nature to act as – you guessed it – a social butterfly. We walk in and out of people’s lives – more often than not – unannounced.
You never know when a stranger will turn into a friend… and vice versa. Sometimes people come into our lives and plant the seeds to a lifelong relationship, and you watch it blossom together through the years. But relationships – much like real flowers – can wilt and die; and I’ve witnessed and endured many such relationships. People will come and people will go. Ok, let me rephrase that: people will come, people will go, and some will keep coming back like the common cold.
But have you ever wondered, that if you were to meet the people you’ve been friends with for years – today – would you still become friends? Lucky for my close friends, the answer is yes (of course, they’re reading this so it’s an obligatory statement). Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about certain individuals (don’t worry, if you’re reading this, then it’s not you). I realized today how important it is to truly grow yourself before you try to grow up with someone else. You often meet someone during the prime raging-hormones stage in life, and after years of movies, dinners, parties, and trips together… you realize this person is nothing you ever wanted – yet suddenly everything you need. You often become blinded by your comfort zone that you fail to see how truly uncanny your relationship is.
So unless if you truly do live inside a cocoon, you will invariably meet various people in your life. (And if you’re on myspace, your odds of meeting people are dramatically improved). Everyone that walks into your life plays a role – albeit, some play the lead while others serve as the extra. But no matter what, everyone will leave a mark and make a difference – yes, even the mailman. There are those that you’ll call when you just need a drink – and those that you’ll call after you’ve had one too many. There will be that one that you just can’t forget – and the one whose name you can’t recall. And finally, there will be those who stand as the wind beneath your wings – and those that will knock the wind right out of you.
Goldilocks Revisited
I confess… us women are mysterious creatures; we are perpetually dissatisfied in life. When we’re happy, we question its validity. When we’re sad, we’re waiting to be happy again. It’s as if we’re nomads in a never-ending search for… well, I guess that’s another mystery.
Every girl ultimately wants to be with a guy who will pamper her like a princess, treat her like a lady, respect her as a woman, and love her indefinitely. But that’s boring. More than just that, what women really want (listen up Gibson), is excitement, sparks, and a worthwhile challenge. We want a guy who’s totally wrong for us, so we can turn him into the one who’s suddenly so perfect.
Maybe this is why good guys always finish last, because girls opt for the ones who will most likely steal their heart, break it, and give it back in pieces. Or on a lighter note, they’ll go for the one who define the words “incredibly sexy” – and “incredibly selfish” – simultaneously.
Why is it so hard to find someone with the whole package? Some have an amazing personality, some are extremely smart, some are insanely hot, and some are filthy rich. I’m sure we’ve all met guys that are too nice (yes, they do exist) and also those that are too good to be true. Now, if only we could all find the one that was just right…
Every girl ultimately wants to be with a guy who will pamper her like a princess, treat her like a lady, respect her as a woman, and love her indefinitely. But that’s boring. More than just that, what women really want (listen up Gibson), is excitement, sparks, and a worthwhile challenge. We want a guy who’s totally wrong for us, so we can turn him into the one who’s suddenly so perfect.
Maybe this is why good guys always finish last, because girls opt for the ones who will most likely steal their heart, break it, and give it back in pieces. Or on a lighter note, they’ll go for the one who define the words “incredibly sexy” – and “incredibly selfish” – simultaneously.
Why is it so hard to find someone with the whole package? Some have an amazing personality, some are extremely smart, some are insanely hot, and some are filthy rich. I’m sure we’ve all met guys that are too nice (yes, they do exist) and also those that are too good to be true. Now, if only we could all find the one that was just right…
To Do or Not To Do*
There are three kinds of married people in the world. First, those whose marriages are arranged; I’ve never quite understood that concept (despite having witnessed it for the past 23 years), but I’m sure there’s a method to their madness. Then there are those who fall in love and marry their soul mates. These few are probably the most fortunate people in the world. And lastly, there are those couples that marry for the sake of their parents, for money, or play it safe and marry the “back-up” friend. These are the most unfortunate ones in the world… and they don’t even know it. Until one day, as they’re walking down the path that destiny has carved out for them, they stumble upon their soul mate, and are faced with the hardest question of all: What do you do when you meet the love of your life and you’re married to someone else? What do you do once you’ve already said ‘I do’?
*Excerpts taken from KANK
*Excerpts taken from KANK
The Ex Factor
Can you remain friends with an ex? Yes it’s the million dollar question. Obviously it varies based on relationships, but here’s my attempt at answering it: No, simply put – at least not until you can stop EXpecting things from an ex. Expectations lead to disappointments – while you’re in a relationship, that is. But having expectations from an ex simply leads to heartbreak.
There are a million and one reasons why people break up, but the underlying cause in most of the cases is that at least one of the partners is unhappy. In such an event, you can either make attempts to rekindle the spark that first brought you together, or agree to part your ways. Once that “fire” has been EXtinguished, maybe you just need to wait for the smoke to clear; and perhaps then you can see things more clearly, and learn to acknowledge their new found happiness with someone else.
But that “someone else” suddenly makes things so complicated, because it raises a whole new crop of questions. Is there a time frame for moving on? Is there a magic formula for how long you should wait before jumping back into the dating scene? Again, the answer varies (and is highly debatable). But if someone else is able to provide what you couldn’t to your ex, then who’s the victim and who’s to blame?
Obviously no one really wants to become an ex. You formalize a relationship because you hope to build a future together – not so that you can be left in the past. So when does an ex truly become an ex? Is it simply when you end all physical relations or when you liberate your thoughts from all mental EXhaustion too? If an “ex” is defined as something of the past, then what do you call it when his residue remains in the present?
The topic of exes has been EXplored for ages now. (Monogamy, apparently, is an ancient concept). Everything from “how to get over an ex” to “how to remain friends with an ex” to “how to get rid of an ex” has been written about. But what movies forget to depict, and authors fail to EXplain are the gray areas in between… when you’re stuck somewhere between love and hate, somewhere between indifference and jealousy, somewhere between the past and future. I guess the fact of the matter is that you’re always in transit… you will always be in the middle of something.
The more I think about it, anything imbedding the word “ex” seems to have a negative connotation attached: Expense, Exhaust, Expire, Expunge, Exterminate. But then there’s also Exciting, Excellent, Exemplify, Extraordinary, Exculpate.
But perhaps the most befitting word of them all is captured by: Exit.
There are a million and one reasons why people break up, but the underlying cause in most of the cases is that at least one of the partners is unhappy. In such an event, you can either make attempts to rekindle the spark that first brought you together, or agree to part your ways. Once that “fire” has been EXtinguished, maybe you just need to wait for the smoke to clear; and perhaps then you can see things more clearly, and learn to acknowledge their new found happiness with someone else.
But that “someone else” suddenly makes things so complicated, because it raises a whole new crop of questions. Is there a time frame for moving on? Is there a magic formula for how long you should wait before jumping back into the dating scene? Again, the answer varies (and is highly debatable). But if someone else is able to provide what you couldn’t to your ex, then who’s the victim and who’s to blame?
Obviously no one really wants to become an ex. You formalize a relationship because you hope to build a future together – not so that you can be left in the past. So when does an ex truly become an ex? Is it simply when you end all physical relations or when you liberate your thoughts from all mental EXhaustion too? If an “ex” is defined as something of the past, then what do you call it when his residue remains in the present?
The topic of exes has been EXplored for ages now. (Monogamy, apparently, is an ancient concept). Everything from “how to get over an ex” to “how to remain friends with an ex” to “how to get rid of an ex” has been written about. But what movies forget to depict, and authors fail to EXplain are the gray areas in between… when you’re stuck somewhere between love and hate, somewhere between indifference and jealousy, somewhere between the past and future. I guess the fact of the matter is that you’re always in transit… you will always be in the middle of something.
The more I think about it, anything imbedding the word “ex” seems to have a negative connotation attached: Expense, Exhaust, Expire, Expunge, Exterminate. But then there’s also Exciting, Excellent, Exemplify, Extraordinary, Exculpate.
But perhaps the most befitting word of them all is captured by: Exit.
Monday Mourning
It’s said love and death both come unannounced, but what about hatred? Can hatred be detected and destroyed before it kills others? Thirty three people had to answer that question the hard way.
The damage is done, but that’s only the beginning… now comes the agony, the empathy, and the eulogy. But really… what can be said about those you truly loved? Eventually tears run dry and words lose meaning… and all that remains are questions as to why innocent lives were stolen, and placed into the hands of a thief.
The damage is done, but that’s only the beginning… now comes the agony, the empathy, and the eulogy. But really… what can be said about those you truly loved? Eventually tears run dry and words lose meaning… and all that remains are questions as to why innocent lives were stolen, and placed into the hands of a thief.
Illusions
We live in a myriad of illusions – those that we reflect onto others and those that we have for ourselves. Often times we create these illusions from falling into the reality pit – because as we all know, it can get quite messy in there.
You take on a promising job that appears to be glamorous and exciting, because it’s the one thing that will get you up at 7am and sit through rush hour traffic. You agree to go on a date with a complete stranger in the hopes of meeting Mr. Right. You decide to invite your friends over for a nice dinner, under the impression that you can actually cook. You believe your child when he tells you he doesn’t smoke because you’ve taught him better. And if it weren’t for these illusions, you’re looking at a 9-5 job, a dud date, a burnt meal, and a possible chain smoker living under the roof.
Unfortunately, mirrors only tell half the story, because true illusions lie beneath the surface.
You take on a promising job that appears to be glamorous and exciting, because it’s the one thing that will get you up at 7am and sit through rush hour traffic. You agree to go on a date with a complete stranger in the hopes of meeting Mr. Right. You decide to invite your friends over for a nice dinner, under the impression that you can actually cook. You believe your child when he tells you he doesn’t smoke because you’ve taught him better. And if it weren’t for these illusions, you’re looking at a 9-5 job, a dud date, a burnt meal, and a possible chain smoker living under the roof.
Unfortunately, mirrors only tell half the story, because true illusions lie beneath the surface.
Going Back Back Back to…
So many things change with time…seasons change color, people change habits, relationships change bonds. But the one thing that doesn’t change is the place where it all happens.
I used to volunteer at my local hospital over seven years ago in hopes of boosting my college applications. I remember walking those quiet hallways in my candy striped apron, visiting patients, serving water, delivering papers, etc. And there I was again… walking the same somber hallways – but this time, not as a volunteer, but as an Aunt to my newborn niece.
About four years ago, I went to San Diego with my parents and grandparents. I did the usual family tourist things, and I remember passing by the huge convention center there. Of course, I had no means of going inside but its sheer grandeur certainly piqued my interest. Back then, I saw it in passing, but in just a few months I’ll be there inside… not with my family… instead with colleagues and a handful of new faces.
There are countless places I can think of where I created memories with certain individuals that have now been juxtaposed with memories created with someone else. People will come into your life and people will go. But it’s nice to know whether or not they remain, the places will always be there.
I used to volunteer at my local hospital over seven years ago in hopes of boosting my college applications. I remember walking those quiet hallways in my candy striped apron, visiting patients, serving water, delivering papers, etc. And there I was again… walking the same somber hallways – but this time, not as a volunteer, but as an Aunt to my newborn niece.
About four years ago, I went to San Diego with my parents and grandparents. I did the usual family tourist things, and I remember passing by the huge convention center there. Of course, I had no means of going inside but its sheer grandeur certainly piqued my interest. Back then, I saw it in passing, but in just a few months I’ll be there inside… not with my family… instead with colleagues and a handful of new faces.
There are countless places I can think of where I created memories with certain individuals that have now been juxtaposed with memories created with someone else. People will come into your life and people will go. But it’s nice to know whether or not they remain, the places will always be there.
Then There Were Two...
I finally realized why birth is really called the “miracle of life.” That fuzzy picture from the sonogram suddenly comes to life (and onto your digicam). One minute the baby’s inside the mother kicking merrily, and the next minute she’s in the embrace of her mother’s arms. What was so overtly hidden for nine long months is now being proudly showcased for the world to see. Suddenly, there’s a face never seen before, a name never uttered before, and love never quite felt before.
It’s amazing how much you can learn from newborns: their innocence, their serenity, their delicacy... the things we’re all born with, that we lose somewhere in the shuffle of growing up. What’s even more incredible is the depths your heart reaches by a simple gaze into a baby’s eyes; just when you thought that you had love all figured out, comes a precious little life that a doctor gently places into your hands and says, “She’s all yours.” You wanna promise her the world, protect her from all evil, shower her with so much love, and almost hold time still… because a moment this beautiful comes only once in her lifetime.
It’s amazing how much you can learn from newborns: their innocence, their serenity, their delicacy... the things we’re all born with, that we lose somewhere in the shuffle of growing up. What’s even more incredible is the depths your heart reaches by a simple gaze into a baby’s eyes; just when you thought that you had love all figured out, comes a precious little life that a doctor gently places into your hands and says, “She’s all yours.” You wanna promise her the world, protect her from all evil, shower her with so much love, and almost hold time still… because a moment this beautiful comes only once in her lifetime.
A Witness to Our Lives
I used to think that ultimately what we all want is a witness to our lives… someone who listens to the daily grumbles of our day… someone who can watch us trip and fall. What would our lives be if we had no one to share them with? Kind of like, how tasty is a chef’s meal if there’s no one to savor it? How good is a book if no one ever reads it?
But then it occurred to me, that more than a witness, what we truly want is a partner in crime. After all, you could be standing in a room full of people to witness your glory, yet still feel like the loneliest person there. What we really want is not only a person who hears us – but listens to what we say… A person that not only applauds you, but embraces you.
My favorite analogy to life is the road. All roads start somewhere and are designed to take you elsewhere. And along the way, you’ll see signs, run red lights, pass landmarks, get lost, turn back around, change lanes, make pit stops, take the wrong exit, approach T-junctions, and ultimately arrive at your destination. Sometimes you’ll race ahead, sometimes you’ll hit a speed bump. And whether you’re crammed in between four people in the back seat or stuck alone in a traffic jam, you can still feel like the only person on the road. Let’s face it… the ride is more enjoyable when there’s someone sitting in shotgun.
But then it occurred to me, that more than a witness, what we truly want is a partner in crime. After all, you could be standing in a room full of people to witness your glory, yet still feel like the loneliest person there. What we really want is not only a person who hears us – but listens to what we say… A person that not only applauds you, but embraces you.
My favorite analogy to life is the road. All roads start somewhere and are designed to take you elsewhere. And along the way, you’ll see signs, run red lights, pass landmarks, get lost, turn back around, change lanes, make pit stops, take the wrong exit, approach T-junctions, and ultimately arrive at your destination. Sometimes you’ll race ahead, sometimes you’ll hit a speed bump. And whether you’re crammed in between four people in the back seat or stuck alone in a traffic jam, you can still feel like the only person on the road. Let’s face it… the ride is more enjoyable when there’s someone sitting in shotgun.
The One
Whether you’re a believer of soul mates or a fan of speed dating, everyone has some preconceived notion of their ideal mate. Although often times, what we want is quite contrary to what we end up with. In such cases, people either change their expectations or simply change their partners. But when do you stop searching… and stop waiting for ‘the one’ to arrive? Do our hearts come equipped with some sort of a biological clock like woman’s ovaries do?
Sometimes you meet someone that you think/hope/pray/truly believe is the one… and soon realize that you did indeed find the one – just the wrong one -- in which case, you go back to square one. So when do you open your eyes from this blind optimism and let go of something you hoped to hold onto forever? Perhaps we’re afraid of letting go because we fear there will be no one there to catch us. Maybe the person that you thought was made for you (and yes, only you), is just someone you made out to be a safety net. After all, when you fall for a person, you do it in the hopes they’ll be there to catch you.
In reality, there will be many “ones” in your life. There will always be the one that broke your heart, the one that got away, the one that you can’t stand, the one that gives you sleepless nights… And there will be the one that had it all – who in my case – had a plus one as well.
So when will waiting for the ‘the one’… be done? Dare I say… one day.
Sometimes you meet someone that you think/hope/pray/truly believe is the one… and soon realize that you did indeed find the one – just the wrong one -- in which case, you go back to square one. So when do you open your eyes from this blind optimism and let go of something you hoped to hold onto forever? Perhaps we’re afraid of letting go because we fear there will be no one there to catch us. Maybe the person that you thought was made for you (and yes, only you), is just someone you made out to be a safety net. After all, when you fall for a person, you do it in the hopes they’ll be there to catch you.
In reality, there will be many “ones” in your life. There will always be the one that broke your heart, the one that got away, the one that you can’t stand, the one that gives you sleepless nights… And there will be the one that had it all – who in my case – had a plus one as well.
So when will waiting for the ‘the one’… be done? Dare I say… one day.
Do Opposites Really Attract?
There’s an exact opposite for everything in the world: heaven and hell, black and white, day and night, man and woman… the list goes on. They’re necessary evils I suppose; you wouldn’t really be able to appreciate wealth without having seen the faces of poverty. Nor would you be able to experience the pangs of hunger without ever having eaten at your heart’s content. Opposites essentially complete the whole picture by bringing two pieces of the puzzle together. But if that’s the case, then why is it when two very different people come together, rather than experiencing an obvious attraction, they’re deemed incompatible? When do the differences between the two begin to outweigh the sum of their differences?
Differences in opinions can bring on a healthy dose of tension, and differences in interests bring variety to a relationship. But what about differences in perception, needs and wants? Some differences are worth forgoing and others are worth fighting for. I suppose that’s what brings on the end to a relationship.
Maybe the concept of ‘opposites attract’ is only applicable in chemistry (or is it physics?). Perhaps relationships need a new theory that better explains why it’s better to just let “irreconcilable differences” be.
Differences in opinions can bring on a healthy dose of tension, and differences in interests bring variety to a relationship. But what about differences in perception, needs and wants? Some differences are worth forgoing and others are worth fighting for. I suppose that’s what brings on the end to a relationship.
Maybe the concept of ‘opposites attract’ is only applicable in chemistry (or is it physics?). Perhaps relationships need a new theory that better explains why it’s better to just let “irreconcilable differences” be.
Four Friends and a Dilemma
We all have girlfriends who we cherish as our own for life. “Sisters from another mister,” as I like to call them. Those are the friends whom we see reflections of during ‘Sex and the City’ (or more recently, ‘Desperate Housewives’) episodes. They’re the ones we reminisce with about the times you dated the guy that was totally wrong for you, and the ones you call in the middle of the night to tell them “I think I’m in love.” They’re the same ones who buy you a round of shots for your birthday, and later pull your hair up while you purge the consequences of one too many drinks. These are the people that call you a dumbass – and mean it – and the ones who cheer you on the loudest.
Throughout the years we’ve dealt and sorted through [a bit too] many problems… but the ones that remain ubiquitous are always the ones involving the male species. Whether it’s trying to figure out “why hasn’t he called me yet?” or “why is he still in the picture?” – the topic of men (and I use that term loosely) always seems to dominate conversations. Seems everywhere I turn, women are preoccupied either:
a) bitching about a boy
b) crying over one
c) pining over one
d) fighting with (or over) one
We’ve all been there, done that and there’s no shame in it. In fact, I’m sure you’re probably nodding your head in agreement as you realize you easily fall into one of those categories. The question really is though, why do we do it? Maybe it all comes back down to that overrated four letter word… love. It seems as if we’re nomads searching for a place to rest our hearts, and until we find that anchor, we’ll keep on bitching, crying, pining, fighting, and wondering… Wondering what tomorrow will bring, wondering if he’s the one, and wondering if any guy will be lucky to come in fifth.
Maybe the single ladies will have better luck posting their online profiles at the CSI office. I mean, these investigators seem to find criminals with the slightest clues; surely, we can make their job easier by telling them exactly who we’re looking for.
WANTED: A 5’10” British chef with a witty sense-of-humor, and a hidden weakness for foot massages.
A Lesson in Math
My life isn’t a mystery; it’s a friggin irony. I could elaborate and give countless examples of how I manage to land myself in uncanny situations time and time again… but I’d much rather just vent.
On second thought, I think I’ll just babble.
So spring is officially here. That also marks my 23¼ birthday (I was born on winter solstice for those of you still scratching your head). That means, exactly 1¾ years left before my quarter life crisis. Yikes! I had so many dreams and goals envisioned before reaching that milestone age. For example, I’d like to be enrolled in grad school by then (work in progress), be near engagement (I hope you’re reading this mister), have the first manuscript of my book complete (blog is a start, right?), visit Greece (very doable as long as work and school don’t get in the way), and move out of my house (NYC here I come!).
That means within the next 638 days, I need to get crackin on things. That number will turn into a double digit before the blink of an eye. Things change so quickly. It’s said that change is the only constant in life. So not to insult any math wizards out there, but technically the following could be formulated:
ax + b = c
Yes, it’s the slope formula we all learned in geometry, which could aptly apply here.
‘B’ represents the things that remain constant in life. Such as, I don’t know.. the color of your skin (unless if you’re wacko jacko), your family, your habits (they die hard remember?), etc.
‘A’ is the slope (positive for the good days and negative for the bad days)
‘X’ represents just that.. the unknown X factor.
And ‘C’ equals… hmm?
I have no clue how any of this makes sense. But that’s not my job. I write, you read. I confuse the shit out of you and you try to make sense of it. That’s how the game works.
The one person I'd like to meet in heaven
I once attempted to read “The Five People You Meet in Heaven.” Keyword: attempted. I don’t think I ever quite made it past the third person. Well, it got me thinking… what are the defining moments – or the people – that shaped my life into what it is today? Was there a guardian angel that came into my life in the form of a stranger and changed the course of my life? Possibly. Could my biggest nemesis be a true friend in disguise? Ok maybe that’s a stretch.
I remember walking home (this was clearly before I earned my driving privileges) one afternoon, and noticed a commercial van abruptly pull over shortly after passing me. Then it turned the street and pulled over once again as the driver saw me turn the corner as well. I began to panic as thoughts of child abduction and sexual assault that my Mom had ever so fervently engraved in my head from the time I was born, began to cloud my mind. The van slowly pulled up ahead a bit more as I walked further down the block. But it was broad daylight and this was a white picket fence suburban neighborhood… surely, he was out of his mind, I thought. Then I saw a car drive past me and I actually considered flagging it down in hopes of – well, anything really. But to my surprise, that same car turned back around and pulled over right next to me. He introduced himself and proceeded to flatter me with some cheesy line in an attempt to make an impression. But in the midst of this semi-bollywood moment, that van disappeared! And now, ten years later, that guy in the car and I are happily engaged to be married…! Ha.. ok just kidding – I said SEMI-bollywood. But I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if that guy had never tried to hit on me. Would I have become just another number in the statistics of children gone missing? Could that guy actually have been “the one” had I pursued anything with him? I guess I’ll never know… unless of course, I meet him in heaven or something. ;-)
Life as I know it
Sometimes you realize what it is that you want in life by getting the things you don’t want. Sure almost everyone dreams of getting the perfect job or meeting their prince charming, but what happens once your dreams come true? What happens after “happily ever after”? Maybe that six-figure salary job brings you further away from the most priceless things in life, like family and friends. And maybe that prince charming is anything but that… a prince or charming.
You learn… slowly yet surely. Life is a teacher and we are merely its students. We continue to learn every single day. Some lessons in life teach us the value of a friendship, some that show us the depths of love, and some that give us the meaning of hate. Life never stops teaching us either, because we never stop living.
With living come mistakes; mistakes that lead to a broken heart, a failed investment, a poor grade, or just a really bad hangover. But these mistakes are what makes us and breaks us. If I hadn’t made the mistake of falling in love with a chronically lying cheater, perhaps I wouldn’t be able to appreciate all the mature and honest men I’ve met since then. Perhaps if I had never experienced true sorrow – the kind that leaves you awake at night and makes you want to crawl back into your mother’s womb – then maybe I wouldn’t value true happiness – you know, the kind that makes you smile unknowingly.
Ok I’m only 23 and maybe too young to boast about having life and its quirks all figured out. So I haven’t fought in a war to defend my country, or even taken on the responsibility of raising a child… but the experiences I’ve faced in life have still been monumental in my eyes. Ultimately, what gives people the ability to connect with one and another – regardless of language, location, or religion – is the simple thing called emotions. The anguish a mother feels for giving birth to a stillborn can probably be felt by a person halfway across the world, for losing his/her grandmother. Imagine that: two completely different scenarios. One sheds tears for losing a person they barely had the chance to raise, and one who sheds tears for losing the person they grew up with.
Emotion is essentially the universal language. A smile can express happiness faster than any prose Shakespeare can inscribe, just as a tear can capture more grief than a eulogy can read.
What does all this lead to? I’m not quite sure to tell you honestly. Sometimes there are things that you just have to say – things that make no sense at all to anyone but you. Some that you wanna scream out to the world, and some that remain in the oblivion of a whisper. And some things don’t need to be spoken at all because they just speak for themselves.
You learn… slowly yet surely. Life is a teacher and we are merely its students. We continue to learn every single day. Some lessons in life teach us the value of a friendship, some that show us the depths of love, and some that give us the meaning of hate. Life never stops teaching us either, because we never stop living.
With living come mistakes; mistakes that lead to a broken heart, a failed investment, a poor grade, or just a really bad hangover. But these mistakes are what makes us and breaks us. If I hadn’t made the mistake of falling in love with a chronically lying cheater, perhaps I wouldn’t be able to appreciate all the mature and honest men I’ve met since then. Perhaps if I had never experienced true sorrow – the kind that leaves you awake at night and makes you want to crawl back into your mother’s womb – then maybe I wouldn’t value true happiness – you know, the kind that makes you smile unknowingly.
Ok I’m only 23 and maybe too young to boast about having life and its quirks all figured out. So I haven’t fought in a war to defend my country, or even taken on the responsibility of raising a child… but the experiences I’ve faced in life have still been monumental in my eyes. Ultimately, what gives people the ability to connect with one and another – regardless of language, location, or religion – is the simple thing called emotions. The anguish a mother feels for giving birth to a stillborn can probably be felt by a person halfway across the world, for losing his/her grandmother. Imagine that: two completely different scenarios. One sheds tears for losing a person they barely had the chance to raise, and one who sheds tears for losing the person they grew up with.
Emotion is essentially the universal language. A smile can express happiness faster than any prose Shakespeare can inscribe, just as a tear can capture more grief than a eulogy can read.
What does all this lead to? I’m not quite sure to tell you honestly. Sometimes there are things that you just have to say – things that make no sense at all to anyone but you. Some that you wanna scream out to the world, and some that remain in the oblivion of a whisper. And some things don’t need to be spoken at all because they just speak for themselves.
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