abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz. At your local library they have these arranged in ways that can make you cry, giggle, love, hate, wonder, ponder, and understand. It's astonishing to see what these twenty-six little marks can do. In Shakespeare's hands they became Hamlet. Mark Twain wound them into Huckleberry Finn. James Joyce twisted them into Ulysses. Gibbon pounded them into The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. John Milton shaped them into Paradise Lost.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
"Good"bye
The first time around was with the aforementioned friend moving to Tokyo. It still feels surreal, as if it isn’t really happening at all. As if I didn’t just see all his suitcases packed up. As if I didn’t really go out to his farewell party. As if I didn’t just hug him for the last time… No, I don’t buy it. A part of me will continue to think that he’s still in NYC – just a hop, skip, and a jump away. And maybe it’ll never quite hit me until I actually turn around and realize I’m standing there by myself, in a room full of memories.
Saying “goodbye” robs people of creating new memories. Whether it’s death, career opportunities, or distance – at some point or another, we all become victims of this thief. And if you have my luck – more often than others. I’m unlucky in love. I get it Mr. Almighty – thanks for making it loud and clear. I fall for all the right guys who are totally wrong for me – which just forces me to bid adieu to them sooner or later.
I fell for someone really unexpected recently. All I knew is that I liked him – without ever really being able to pinpoint exactly what it is that I liked about him. Those are the best kinds of attractions though, I think, because it goes beyond just a single quality – it’s the kind of attraction that makes you smile unknowingly at the mere thought of them. How quickly that smile turned upside down though, with a single word: goodbye.
He said it – just like that, closing off all possibilities of any illusions I had. Let me make one thing clear: saying goodbye is not my forte – being in denial, however, is. He said it and I heard it, but I don’t want to deal with the inevitable: the pain, the anger, the solitude. If only ignorance of these pangs of emotions could bring bliss, how many years of therapy that would save people. But alas, here I am – fuckin dealing with it.
We both saw the red flags ahead but gave it a go regardless, in our quest to answer the “what ifs.” I took a chance and welcomed him into my world of hookah, bollywood, and so much more. The problem occurred when he got the answer to his “what if,” but I was still trying to figure it out. The bigger problem, however, was that he didn’t enjoy being a part of my world as much as I enjoyed having him there.
Maybe that’s the solution: stop inviting people into my life. If they never enter, they can’t leave. And if they never leave, then I never have to say another ill-fated goodbye ever again.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
From Sole to Soul Mate
When someone dies, we’re taught to believe that their soul has left their body. So with the passing of a loved one, does that mean, you’ve also lost your soul mate? Soul mate. Two little words, one big concept – one that I never quite thought about. It’s hard enough finding a guy that sticks around for more than a month, let alone finding one that’s supposedly meant to last all eternity. With each relationship that ends, I become less and less of a believer of this elusive rosy theory. Believing in it means that until I find this mystery guy, out there somewhere in this big ol’ universe, I will forever remain just a lost soul. And I’m too much of an optimist to believe in such daunting things.
Things with the recent bachelor #34592 didn’t work out (yes, despite the “magical” first date as gushed about below). Cause of death: lack of spark. Shocking, I know – considering that’s been the #1 reason with most of the guys I’ve recently dated. But it made me wonder today – is it me? Is it them? Which one out of us is to be blamed for “us” not working out? I don’t know. I can just leave it at "we didn't click," or I can sit here and do a post-mortem analysis by dissecting each spoken word, and replaying each date under a microscope – but why bother? Everyone wishes for a quick easy death – and it was just that.
We’re all destined to die some day, but not all of us are meant to fall in love. Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. And if I keep that flicker of hope inside of me alive, then I’m certain that I’ll find that someone out there who may not be my soul mate – but he can be my permanent roommate – that someone I share my bed, my secrets, my dreams, and my life with…
Monday, April 21, 2008
Mixing Business with Pleasure
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Fifty First Dates
1) no way – “you don’t have a shot”
2) maybe – “sure, I’ll give you a chance”
3) hellz ya – “where have you been?”
In my experience of exploring the male species in this wilderness, I have had many moments that began with one of the above reactions. And ironically enough, I’ve been wrong nine out of ten times – hence why I’ve stopped having any major expectations when a guys asks me out on a date. It’s rare that I get nervous or even excited about a first date, because after a while, you fall into a rhythm and you realize which ones are a waste of time – rather than the time of your life. But last night was different; the night began with a sense of trepidation and ended in simple perfection. Looking back at the past couple of years, it feels as if I’ve been on fifty first dates, but for the first time last night, I thought… I’d rather have a date like this fifty times, every time – because if the first felt this great, I don’t want to imagine it being the last.
(And in case you're wondering, the answer is #3).
Sunday, April 6, 2008
When Rubber Meets the Road
Last week, three different cities, all located hundreds and thousands of miles away, distanced three of my friends from a place I had grown accustomed to calling their home: the tri-state area. There’s the Philly friend who will be moving to Bean town Boston by the end of this year. Then there’s the local Jersey friend who’s moving to ritzy LA in a month. And finally the NYC friend who is moving to Tokyo faster than you can say Mitsubishi. I’ve known all of them for a couple of years now, and shared unforgettable moments with each of them. And although I never considered them to be the closest of friends, something triggered inside of me when they told me about the new place they’ll be calling home. It made me realize… we’re adults… how did this happen? And how do we make it stop?
As happy and proud as I am for the strides they’ve made in their respective careers, a part of me wants to hold them back. I just want to keep everyone at bay and continue pretending that the status quo hasn’t really shifted at all. Yet I’m forced to face reality as I share the last supper, throw the farewell party, and wave goodbye to each one of them… one by one.
I asked one of them if he will stay in Tokyo permanently, and even though he said he doesn’t know, it unnerves me because we take comfort in the possibilities that come with the unknown. He may hate it and move back, or he could fall madly in love and settle there forever. Granted, the pendulum can swing either way, but right now… the only direction destiny is taking him is two continents and an ocean away from me. I guess it’s nice to know that no matter where life takes you, the ones you love, are just a call, email, and a plane ride away.
Ironically enough, I was scheduled to fly out the day after they all shocked me with their big news. Let me tell you – nothing is quite saddening as sitting at the airport wondering how this is the very place that both unites and divides people. This is where people come to venture off into the world – be it near or far. This is where people come to go to a place they call home. This is the place where people shed tears and embrace closely one last time. This is the place where people jump into the arms of their lovers. All the ironies in the world, reside under this one roof.
Later that day, as I was sitting idly on the plane, looking out the window into the bright horizon, I wondered about what my friends will think as their flight approaches their destinations. Home sweet home? Shit, where am I? You look out below and see sparkling water, enormous buildings, and wonder how soon enough… you’ll be among them – perhaps seamlessly… perhaps not. Whatever your fears may be, as soon as that rubber meets the runway, it all comes to a standstill and you hear the attendant over the speakers, “Welcome, we have arrived…”
When I finally returned from my trip, and was waiting (and waiting and waiting) at the baggage claim, it occurred to me how the carousel is quite analogous to our lives. (Yep, here comes another wacky analogy). We stand there, waiting for something to appear – something we can claim as our own, hold, carry, and be gone with it. Yet we see others get it first, and wonder when will it be my turn? When will I get what I want? But unlike the conveyor belt, life isn’t guaranteed to deliver us anything – only the things we’re destined for, and the things we work hard towards. And I believe that if work is done right – it not only opens up new windows of opportunities, it can open up the sky for you.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Big Bang
We’ve all been bystanders in roadside crashes – and some of us unfortunate ones – have even been in one – but never have I actually seen it happen “live.” Later that morning when I finally proceeded to making my way to work, I thought about what I had seen just a couple of hours earlier. I wondered if the victim had a chance to say “I love you” before she left the house that morning. I wondered if she even had anyone to say that to. I wondered what regrets the offender had – “I wish I hadn’t picked up that call” – or “I wish I wasn’t so reckless.” I also wondered what others, like me who were stuck in the jam, were thinking; “Damn, I should’ve left my house 5 minutes sooner.” What about the EMTs and the cops? “I’ve seen worse” – or “This is going to be a messy one.”
This isn’t my feeble attempt at recreating the Oscar winning movie “Crash,” but it does make me wonder – one horrific event, everything leading up to it, thereafter, and the multiple people it touches. All of our lives are so interwoven in today’s modern world that it’s hard not to affect someone by your actions – no matter how innocent or deadly they may be.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Love is Like a Bottle of Gin
By: The Magnetic Fields
Lyrics -
It makes you blind, it does you in
It makes you think you're pretty tough
It makes you prone to crime and sin
It makes you say thing off the cuff
It's very small and made of glass
and grossly over-advertised
It turns a genius into an ass
and makes a fool think he is wise
It could make you regret your birth
or turn cartwheels in your best suit
It costs a lot more than it's worth
and yet there is no substitute
They keep it on a higher shelf
the older and more pure it grows
It has no color in itself
but it can make you see rainbows
You can find it at the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
You just get what they put in
and they never put in enough
Love is like a bottle of gin
but a bottle of gin is not like love
Monday, March 17, 2008
Lost & Found
Apparently the adage, “take the road less traveled” was not meant for me. Every time I try to venture out onto uncharted territory, I end up driving an extra 30 minutes… in the opposite direction. It finally occurred to me – as I was getting lost for the umpteenth time this past weekend – that my heart tends to follow the same course. Even with a clear destination in mind, for some reason or another, I veer off course and end up wasting time and going the wrong way.
Finding things in life isn't necessarily the hard part -- you'll find a great guy for every jerk you meet; you'll find a guy that wants to spoil you... a guy that wants ravish you... a guy that wants you want him.... a guy you want all to yourself. You can find it all -- but until you find it all in a single person, you'll be left -- well -- single.
Whether it’s intentional or accidental, one thing that I’ve learned from my years of getting lost and found is that getting off track isn’t such a bad thing, after all. Sure it wears my tires out, adds unnecessary mileage, increases my blood pressure… but at the end of the day, it exposes me to new roads – and it shows that sometimes it doesn’t matter how you reach your destination, as long as you find your way.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Fight vs. Flight
What it all boils down to is a simple concept I learned in psychology class. In a threatening situation, your mind and body must decide between combating the obstacle and averting it altogether. For instance, let’s say you’re minding your own business and taking a stroll in the park, and a man suddenly creeps up from behind to assault you. Presuming your lack of preparedness or level of expertise in martial arts, your initial instinct would be to run. You can fight the perpetrator or you can fleet from the danger.
In my case, I did both. My ex made an assault on my trust, family, and feelings. But I chose to fight it. How naïve I was. It wasn’t until I fled that mock of a relationship that I finally felt safe – safe from being made a fool and being hurt… over and over again. Fast forward to the present: He’s marrying the girl he habitually lied to, repeatedly cheated on, and continues to disrespect by attempting to correspond with me. He’s venturing into a lifelong commitment when the only thing he’s ever been able to commit to is covering his ass. So when I still see his number on my caller ID, or see his name in my inbox, or see his picture with his fiancé, I’m not reminded of the war injuries – instead, I thank God that I had enough sense to realize that the victory wasn’t worth the fight.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Eyes Wide Shut
Ironic how our minds work, isn’t it? Normally, when our dreams take us to fantasy land and show us grandiose visions, our mind is so quick to shove them to the abyss of our subconscious. Yet when we’re shown the grave and stark images of evil, there’s nothing we can do to erase them.
For once, I’m actually going to refrain from sharing the details of this vivid dream – mainly because I’d rather just forget about it completely, than have this blog serve as a constant reminder. A million thoughts cross our minds daily, but the other handful that we push aside, resurface from our subconscious into our dreams, and open up our eyes to the possibilities that lay beneath – even with our eyes wide shut.