An Honest Book
I want to apologize to the Blog community for letting things get a little personal on here. I should have considered the consequences of participating in a 'Blog fight'. As I sat at dinner with my friend last night and related the story to her, I realized how ridiculous this all is. Writing a long diatribe to accuse me of wrongdoings is ridiculous and responding to it with folksy wisdom is even more foolish...
Hopefully I can stand in front of my friends as I am, without worrying about the misconceptions that come from the written word. It’s hard to remember that these Blogs are more than spoken words said in the heat of the moment; they are testaments to our feelings and thoughts that are open for everyone to analyze. Maintaining your dignity in the online community is just as important as and sometimes harder than in the real world. In our face-to-face conversations and interactions we are granted a certain level of leniency. I feel this is missing here.
So, again, I apologize.
Editor’s note: I used the title Self-Defense because of the experience I have had in the courtroom. Many people waive their right to an attorney when they believe they have nothing to hide- this is how I feel. I am and always have been an open book, maybe a little hard to read at times, but honest none the less.
Wednesday, August 29
Tuesday, August 28
Put Your Link into It
"All the while, the middle class sits around debating Gay Marriage, or whatever else is popular like it is going to affect the fate of the universe, completely forgetting that the have to scratch and claw for every single thing they have as the rich just breeze through life. The rich may have worked hard to get rich, but that does not allow them to force the bulk of America's taxes on the rest of us"
http://musingsfromatree.blogspot.com
"All the while, the middle class sits around debating Gay Marriage, or whatever else is popular like it is going to affect the fate of the universe, completely forgetting that the have to scratch and claw for every single thing they have as the rich just breeze through life. The rich may have worked hard to get rich, but that does not allow them to force the bulk of America's taxes on the rest of us"
http://musingsfromatree.blogspot.com
Monday, August 27
Self- Defense
When I was living in Lancaster, I dated a young British man named Richard (yeah I’m going to talk about an ex). After a couple of weeks he decided that he didn’t want to date me anymore. I listened to him calmly as we sat together on my dorm room bed. I cannot remember his argument exactly but it centered somewhere around the fact that I was leaving to go back home in a couple of months. After he had stated his case, I told him that I thought he was right and that we should break-up. He sat there confused. He had expected a protest, I assume, and my acquiescence had startled him into thinking that I didn’t really want to date him at all. You see- as I calmly stated to him- that was not the case. I believe that if there is a point where you think that you should break up with, or no longer date, a person and if you believe in this reason strongly enough to tell them about it, then you should, most definitely, end the relationship. Because, if there can be a doubt in your mind strong enough to start the dialogue of a breakup then it will assuredly lead to one whether immediately or many years down the road. My statements had the strange effect of changing his mind and making him realize that he didn’t want to break up with me at all.
Three weeks later we broke up.
The point is this- sometimes we don’t take our own advice. There have been many times when I have decided that I shouldn’t be dating someone for a particular reason but I continue because they (or me) talked me back into it.
Reasons don’t just go away.
They also don’t just appear and acting like they did is only lying to yourself.
*As I slept on my brother’s couch Saturday night, I thought of this story. Birthdays usually don’t have a mental effect, but, somehow, at 22 I can say, ‘things are changing’.
Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear
And I can’t help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer
It's driven me before, it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal
Lately, I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there with open arms and open eyes…
It's driven me before, it seems to be the way that everyone else get around
Lately, I'm beginning to find that when I drive myself, my light is found
When I was living in Lancaster, I dated a young British man named Richard (yeah I’m going to talk about an ex). After a couple of weeks he decided that he didn’t want to date me anymore. I listened to him calmly as we sat together on my dorm room bed. I cannot remember his argument exactly but it centered somewhere around the fact that I was leaving to go back home in a couple of months. After he had stated his case, I told him that I thought he was right and that we should break-up. He sat there confused. He had expected a protest, I assume, and my acquiescence had startled him into thinking that I didn’t really want to date him at all. You see- as I calmly stated to him- that was not the case. I believe that if there is a point where you think that you should break up with, or no longer date, a person and if you believe in this reason strongly enough to tell them about it, then you should, most definitely, end the relationship. Because, if there can be a doubt in your mind strong enough to start the dialogue of a breakup then it will assuredly lead to one whether immediately or many years down the road. My statements had the strange effect of changing his mind and making him realize that he didn’t want to break up with me at all.
Three weeks later we broke up.
The point is this- sometimes we don’t take our own advice. There have been many times when I have decided that I shouldn’t be dating someone for a particular reason but I continue because they (or me) talked me back into it.
Reasons don’t just go away.
They also don’t just appear and acting like they did is only lying to yourself.
*As I slept on my brother’s couch Saturday night, I thought of this story. Birthdays usually don’t have a mental effect, but, somehow, at 22 I can say, ‘things are changing’.
Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear
And I can’t help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer
It's driven me before, it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal
Lately, I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there with open arms and open eyes…
It's driven me before, it seems to be the way that everyone else get around
Lately, I'm beginning to find that when I drive myself, my light is found
Thursday, August 23
You are My Favorite
Inspired by:
Padraig’s My Girl-
On those days that I admit to myself that I want a guy, I began to wonder what shape that fabled man might take. What color would his perfectly tinted eyes be? What shade of hair would I find between my fingers? What would we talk about as we laid on the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon? I would want him to be a writer, or at least some type of artist, because, as my father once told me, only one artist can understand another. I’m mostly over the physical characteristics, though a dark brunette can still make me stop and stare. He would be successful, or at least driven, because there is still that part of me that can’t stand mediocrity. We would have a weekly date of wine and conversation. I would catch him watching me as I made cookies, with a tender look in his eyes and I would know that he loved me more than he could have ever imagined. He would let me put my feet on his while I am sleeping because they get cold at night. He would understand that sometimes I have to run away to know what I am coming back to; that there is a part of me that is restless and it has nothing to do with him at all. I would call him by a nickname that his mother had used for him as a child and he wouldn’t mind at all. If I told him that I loved him more he would respond “I know” and I would act hurt so that he would kiss me on the forehead. We would drive out to the country so we could sit on the hood of his car and listen to the lyrics of songs while we counted the stars. If we got lost, we would remember all the details and relate them in funny voices to friends who weren’t there. And every night, before we fell asleep, we would push the hair back from my eyes and say, “you are my favorite.”
Inspired by:
Padraig’s My Girl-
On those days that I admit to myself that I want a guy, I began to wonder what shape that fabled man might take. What color would his perfectly tinted eyes be? What shade of hair would I find between my fingers? What would we talk about as we laid on the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon? I would want him to be a writer, or at least some type of artist, because, as my father once told me, only one artist can understand another. I’m mostly over the physical characteristics, though a dark brunette can still make me stop and stare. He would be successful, or at least driven, because there is still that part of me that can’t stand mediocrity. We would have a weekly date of wine and conversation. I would catch him watching me as I made cookies, with a tender look in his eyes and I would know that he loved me more than he could have ever imagined. He would let me put my feet on his while I am sleeping because they get cold at night. He would understand that sometimes I have to run away to know what I am coming back to; that there is a part of me that is restless and it has nothing to do with him at all. I would call him by a nickname that his mother had used for him as a child and he wouldn’t mind at all. If I told him that I loved him more he would respond “I know” and I would act hurt so that he would kiss me on the forehead. We would drive out to the country so we could sit on the hood of his car and listen to the lyrics of songs while we counted the stars. If we got lost, we would remember all the details and relate them in funny voices to friends who weren’t there. And every night, before we fell asleep, we would push the hair back from my eyes and say, “you are my favorite.”
Monday, August 20
Letters from the Other Side
The edges that had once defined a star so bright that she closed her eyes now cut her with their strength of character. Wounds that were left untreated grew greater until the poison and hurt were too much to begin to bear. She forced her pained eyes to open and to gaze at this star that had now become her enemy. A cool gaze met in reply that could watch for days but never understand the sight. The twins in black converse shoes and blonde ponytails that bobbed as they giggled at jokes made secret by the depth of their experiences. Could it ever be again? How does one break up with a best-friend?
The edges that had once defined a star so bright that she closed her eyes now cut her with their strength of character. Wounds that were left untreated grew greater until the poison and hurt were too much to begin to bear. She forced her pained eyes to open and to gaze at this star that had now become her enemy. A cool gaze met in reply that could watch for days but never understand the sight. The twins in black converse shoes and blonde ponytails that bobbed as they giggled at jokes made secret by the depth of their experiences. Could it ever be again? How does one break up with a best-friend?
Friday, August 17
Abortion, Welfare, Genocide, and everywhere in between
“These people walk by a widow deformed by leprosy begging for a few paise, walk by children dressed in rags living in the street, and they think, "Business as usual." But if they perceive a slight against God, it is a different story. Their faces go red, their chests heave mightily, they sputter angry words. The degree of their indignation is astonishing. Their resolve is frightening.” --- Life of Pi
There has been a shift in our country. The people have moved away from the leaders and whether it is from distrust or displeasure, the evidence of this shift is blatant as we watch the circus that has become the Presidential Election. The contenders are numerous and have begun their fights earlier than many have ever seen. We are already looking to the future with such unabashed joy that people have chosen their favorites for president a full year before the election. All this is to say that there is a shift. The world has become smaller through technology and information has been made readily available to the public like never before. Our generation is educated on the world but with knowledge comes responsibility. This past weekend, I was with my mother and grandmother. I asked my grandmother if Americans knew about the Concentration Camps in WWII. She said they had heard rumors but no one knew the extent until the American soldiers opened the gates of the camps and saw for themselves the horrors of the Nazi regime. Fast forward to present day, me sitting on the couch and watching CNN. There is a genocide going on in Darfur and we are doing nothing about it. America- the land of the free and the defender of democracy- doesn’t give a crap that thousands of Africans are dying by the hands of their own government. Oh wait, actually we do give a crap. You see, good ol’ George has called this government out in meetings – while they sit in the back and laugh at his condemnations- but the problem is this: They have information on terrorists and somewhere along the line information about terrorists is more important than preventing genocide.
But that’s not where my rant ends- If you were worried that I would leave out the good faithful people of the Church, rest assured I have condemnation for them too. Where is the church on this? Why aren’t we doing something about it or at least praying about it? When I feel frustrated and lash out at the newspapers- something that happened yesterday morning- my aunt calmly says the only thing we can do is pray about it. Even more, the only thing we can hope for is a Christian President because he will know the right thing to do. Bullshit. A smart president will know the right thing to do. A president with good advisors will know the right thing to do. A president that cares more about the people than oil would know the right thing to do. Christians believe their purpose is to save souls, but what souls are there to save if people die? This reminds me of a dichotomy I should not bring up:
Abortion and Welfare.
Say it together.
Christian right- very much against abortion and welfare. Now, why, might you ask, would they want to save the babies of woman who can’t afford to have the babies in the first place? We shouldn’t give out free birth control because that contributes to promiscuity and we shouldn’t have abortion because they shouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place and we shouldn’t support welfare because people shouldn’t be having kids they can’t afford….
I just gave myself a headache.
So, I can already see the comments on this one. I know I shouldn’t be looking at people; they aren’t perfect only Christ is, but when did that become a scapegoat to personal responsibility. When did the fact that a reincarnated divine being living a mystic existence in your soul allow you to be exempt from caring about people, or, even better, pretending to care. This is why my mother is one of the few devout I can bare to stand. She does care and she goes multiple times a year to places across the world or to her next door neighbor and proves that she cares.
All this to say that I think we need to act more. I don’t know how to begin but I think that if the Church wanted to do something to change the world they could begin by spending less time on evangelizing and spend more money on the needy.
There. Done.
“These people walk by a widow deformed by leprosy begging for a few paise, walk by children dressed in rags living in the street, and they think, "Business as usual." But if they perceive a slight against God, it is a different story. Their faces go red, their chests heave mightily, they sputter angry words. The degree of their indignation is astonishing. Their resolve is frightening.” --- Life of Pi
There has been a shift in our country. The people have moved away from the leaders and whether it is from distrust or displeasure, the evidence of this shift is blatant as we watch the circus that has become the Presidential Election. The contenders are numerous and have begun their fights earlier than many have ever seen. We are already looking to the future with such unabashed joy that people have chosen their favorites for president a full year before the election. All this is to say that there is a shift. The world has become smaller through technology and information has been made readily available to the public like never before. Our generation is educated on the world but with knowledge comes responsibility. This past weekend, I was with my mother and grandmother. I asked my grandmother if Americans knew about the Concentration Camps in WWII. She said they had heard rumors but no one knew the extent until the American soldiers opened the gates of the camps and saw for themselves the horrors of the Nazi regime. Fast forward to present day, me sitting on the couch and watching CNN. There is a genocide going on in Darfur and we are doing nothing about it. America- the land of the free and the defender of democracy- doesn’t give a crap that thousands of Africans are dying by the hands of their own government. Oh wait, actually we do give a crap. You see, good ol’ George has called this government out in meetings – while they sit in the back and laugh at his condemnations- but the problem is this: They have information on terrorists and somewhere along the line information about terrorists is more important than preventing genocide.
But that’s not where my rant ends- If you were worried that I would leave out the good faithful people of the Church, rest assured I have condemnation for them too. Where is the church on this? Why aren’t we doing something about it or at least praying about it? When I feel frustrated and lash out at the newspapers- something that happened yesterday morning- my aunt calmly says the only thing we can do is pray about it. Even more, the only thing we can hope for is a Christian President because he will know the right thing to do. Bullshit. A smart president will know the right thing to do. A president with good advisors will know the right thing to do. A president that cares more about the people than oil would know the right thing to do. Christians believe their purpose is to save souls, but what souls are there to save if people die? This reminds me of a dichotomy I should not bring up:
Abortion and Welfare.
Say it together.
Christian right- very much against abortion and welfare. Now, why, might you ask, would they want to save the babies of woman who can’t afford to have the babies in the first place? We shouldn’t give out free birth control because that contributes to promiscuity and we shouldn’t have abortion because they shouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place and we shouldn’t support welfare because people shouldn’t be having kids they can’t afford….
I just gave myself a headache.
So, I can already see the comments on this one. I know I shouldn’t be looking at people; they aren’t perfect only Christ is, but when did that become a scapegoat to personal responsibility. When did the fact that a reincarnated divine being living a mystic existence in your soul allow you to be exempt from caring about people, or, even better, pretending to care. This is why my mother is one of the few devout I can bare to stand. She does care and she goes multiple times a year to places across the world or to her next door neighbor and proves that she cares.
All this to say that I think we need to act more. I don’t know how to begin but I think that if the Church wanted to do something to change the world they could begin by spending less time on evangelizing and spend more money on the needy.
There. Done.
Thursday, August 16
Something Good......
"Obviously I believe the RCC is true. If I didn't, I wouldn't be Catholic. For me, it represents the fullness of Truth, insofar as we're able to perceive it in this life. Other people find their Truth with a capital "t" in other places. If my path is true for me, and yours is true for you, maybe we're seeing little pieces of something bigger than either of us. I like the fact that Catholic theology allows for this, and at the heart of the matter, salvation and who God decides to give that grace to is a complete gift and mystery. Asking a Catholic if they're saved will probably get you a puzzled look in response. The right answer is, "I don't know!" or "God only knows." There's no positive assurance, but there's hope in God's limitless mercy. This is stuff that keeps me coming back, Sunday after Sunday through all the bullcrap people like to sling at each other in the name of orthodoxy."
http://bigumuse.blogspot.com/2007/05/cfoyc-part-3-salvation-other-religions.html
"Obviously I believe the RCC is true. If I didn't, I wouldn't be Catholic. For me, it represents the fullness of Truth, insofar as we're able to perceive it in this life. Other people find their Truth with a capital "t" in other places. If my path is true for me, and yours is true for you, maybe we're seeing little pieces of something bigger than either of us. I like the fact that Catholic theology allows for this, and at the heart of the matter, salvation and who God decides to give that grace to is a complete gift and mystery. Asking a Catholic if they're saved will probably get you a puzzled look in response. The right answer is, "I don't know!" or "God only knows." There's no positive assurance, but there's hope in God's limitless mercy. This is stuff that keeps me coming back, Sunday after Sunday through all the bullcrap people like to sling at each other in the name of orthodoxy."
http://bigumuse.blogspot.com/2007/05/cfoyc-part-3-salvation-other-religions.html
Tuesday, August 14
In regards to France:
I feel as though I’m running full speed towards the edge, waiting for the moment when I sprout wings.
In regards to Home:
Like an outfit that doesn’t quite fit and isn’t your color, I feel out of place and, at times, blaringly so.
In regards to Love:
I don’t want another goodbye. I don’t know how to be genuine without being cliché and I don’t know how to hope without being naïve.
In regards to Family:
God, I miss them already. England showed me what I’ve got and now I’m realizing what exactly it is that I am leaving behind.
In regards to Friends:
I couldn’t be happier. I am closer to more people than I have been in my entire life and I love it.
In regards to Life:
My friend Keil said it best this weekend: “Things are amazing right now. In fact, they are so amazing it is making me nervous. I have never felt so good and I can’t help but wait to be brought back down to reality.”
I don’t have time to wait for the other shoe to drop. I am jumping in to the life I’ve been waiting for 21 years to live. I am happy and I am content, but most importantly- I have peace. I feel as though I'm traveling down the road of life; I don't have all the directions but I know I'm traveling in the right direction.
I feel as though I’m running full speed towards the edge, waiting for the moment when I sprout wings.
In regards to Home:
Like an outfit that doesn’t quite fit and isn’t your color, I feel out of place and, at times, blaringly so.
In regards to Love:
I don’t want another goodbye. I don’t know how to be genuine without being cliché and I don’t know how to hope without being naïve.
In regards to Family:
God, I miss them already. England showed me what I’ve got and now I’m realizing what exactly it is that I am leaving behind.
In regards to Friends:
I couldn’t be happier. I am closer to more people than I have been in my entire life and I love it.
In regards to Life:
My friend Keil said it best this weekend: “Things are amazing right now. In fact, they are so amazing it is making me nervous. I have never felt so good and I can’t help but wait to be brought back down to reality.”
I don’t have time to wait for the other shoe to drop. I am jumping in to the life I’ve been waiting for 21 years to live. I am happy and I am content, but most importantly- I have peace. I feel as though I'm traveling down the road of life; I don't have all the directions but I know I'm traveling in the right direction.
Saturday, August 11
Friday, August 10
Mon anniversaire
Seventeen and grubby knees outside the dorm room window on grass
That stained the dreams in adolescent heads and stars which burned
Closer than the sky had ever been with tiki torch lighting the way
Eighteen and pulling scabs on knees to feel the pains of growing
Heat with air pressing in tight watching you walk backwards
From a heart that bled all its years forever and a day today
Nineteen and hello, goodbye blink open eyes seeing it all
In front and behind the door and this girl then a woman
Wanting more but wondering what all they would say
Twenty and flying oceans dream in gingerbread castles
Filled with a bubbly word it drank on vodka and novelty
Live life watched only from distance a movie screen away
Twenty-one and crash American dreams create kaleidoscope
The twist and shape your colors bend the lights in my foresight
The perfect memory where ought and naught all that is left to say
Twenty-two and mirrored numbers meet to watch I fly ocean again
The balanced title that devises even days and nights ahead in perfect
Symmetry to whisper après moi a woman that needs not break or fray
Seventeen and grubby knees outside the dorm room window on grass
That stained the dreams in adolescent heads and stars which burned
Closer than the sky had ever been with tiki torch lighting the way
Eighteen and pulling scabs on knees to feel the pains of growing
Heat with air pressing in tight watching you walk backwards
From a heart that bled all its years forever and a day today
Nineteen and hello, goodbye blink open eyes seeing it all
In front and behind the door and this girl then a woman
Wanting more but wondering what all they would say
Twenty and flying oceans dream in gingerbread castles
Filled with a bubbly word it drank on vodka and novelty
Live life watched only from distance a movie screen away
Twenty-one and crash American dreams create kaleidoscope
The twist and shape your colors bend the lights in my foresight
The perfect memory where ought and naught all that is left to say
Twenty-two and mirrored numbers meet to watch I fly ocean again
The balanced title that devises even days and nights ahead in perfect
Symmetry to whisper après moi a woman that needs not break or fray
Thursday, August 9
So.......
I'm working on a new chapter but I've committed to writing on this blog at least every other day- which I haven't decided is good or bad for my writing- but, either way, I'm going to write something now, because, well, it's that time again kidos.
*that has to be one of the longest sentences ever recorded by man....in fact, I'm sure it is.
Stuff I've been thinking about lately ( because I'm sure you want to know )
1. Whether I should stay in Europe forever or come back and go to Law School. Though, Pat thinks I should stay in europe, and since I sometimes confuse his with the voice of God, I'm leaning that way.
2. I've been working out ALOT lately...that and studying my LSAT material. In fact, it reminds me of the days when I focused on school and health because I was ambitious and driven; instead of now when I just live in a REALLY boring town.
3. I Feel Fine by the Riddlin Kids has been on repeat in my car. I'm not sure why exactly but I think it has something to do with a previous conversatin where I said "I'm fine being single" and he responded "No, you're not."
Who says that?!?!
4. I took pictures of my car to put up on the internet and since have been looking at them whilst at work. I think, "Damn that's a nice car". But that is how much I love Europe, I'm willing to sell it...Maybe God will see my anguish and give me both?!?! Please Pretty Please.
5. If you're still reading this you eithr think I'm EXTREMELY neurotic or that it is really really boring to work at a law office. It's usually the former but today a bit of the latter.
I'm working on a new chapter but I've committed to writing on this blog at least every other day- which I haven't decided is good or bad for my writing- but, either way, I'm going to write something now, because, well, it's that time again kidos.
*that has to be one of the longest sentences ever recorded by man....in fact, I'm sure it is.
Stuff I've been thinking about lately ( because I'm sure you want to know )
1. Whether I should stay in Europe forever or come back and go to Law School. Though, Pat thinks I should stay in europe, and since I sometimes confuse his with the voice of God, I'm leaning that way.
2. I've been working out ALOT lately...that and studying my LSAT material. In fact, it reminds me of the days when I focused on school and health because I was ambitious and driven; instead of now when I just live in a REALLY boring town.
3. I Feel Fine by the Riddlin Kids has been on repeat in my car. I'm not sure why exactly but I think it has something to do with a previous conversatin where I said "I'm fine being single" and he responded "No, you're not."
Who says that?!?!
4. I took pictures of my car to put up on the internet and since have been looking at them whilst at work. I think, "Damn that's a nice car". But that is how much I love Europe, I'm willing to sell it...Maybe God will see my anguish and give me both?!?! Please Pretty Please.
5. If you're still reading this you eithr think I'm EXTREMELY neurotic or that it is really really boring to work at a law office. It's usually the former but today a bit of the latter.
Tuesday, August 7
Mommy and Me
We are the same person separated by 41 years. Our physical similarities are obvious; we share the same blond hair and speckle-green eyes, but it is our personalities that are most similar. My mother is an adventurer- in every since of the word. She doesn’t find her happiness in routine or stability. She loves fiercely and gives dutifully. She approaches people unafraid; as though she has never known hurt before, but when you speak with her you quickly realize she has lived a long life of ups and downs.
In truth, I can only hope we are the same person separated by a 41 years.
When I first told her I was thinking of moving to France to work after I graduated she responded, “of course”. This weekend when I timidly told her that I was thinking that I wanted to stay overseas for longer than a year she responded, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me.” She knows and understands me so well that it amazes me at times. She is smart and quick, always looking for more information to learn and expand her horizons. She understands it all but there is one point where we stand at opposite ends of a chasm- religion.
My mother is a missionary. I know; I can’t believe it at times either. She travels to India and Haiti to work with orphans. That’s right- ORPHANS.
Mother Theresa is my mother and sometimes I don’t know what to do about it. I want so badly to talk to her about my own struggles with the church. I want to tell her that I’m trying; oh I’m trying, to understand how the Sunday-school stories and the newspaper speak of the same planet. That I’m trying to understand how “God told me” is a valid answer to any question when this is the same woman that never believed in using the phrase ‘Because I told you so”. She raised me to question and to pursue everything yet when it comes to Christianity she becomes docile and submissive. I want to understand why my mother has cried over her inability to speak in tongues. Why she has been made to feel less-than because she is unmarried and, well, a little weird. I want to love her and believe her with everything but my skepticism begins to creep in and I suddenly need more than a calm pat on the hand. I need more than her clear green eyes closed in prayer, but I’m going to keep trying because I want to believe again. I want to say “God told me”, just so I can have one ounce of assurance in my life. I want to lie in peace, enveloped in a love that is strong enough to break this wild horse.
I want to be the same person separated by 41 years.
*for clarification- My mother was 41 years old when I was born. She has led a very interesting life as a war activist/ labor union president/ free-loving hippie. She is finally doing what my friends have told me to do for years- she’s having a book written about her. She has asked me to write a chapter; something that will explain my perspective on her life. I’m not ready yet but hopefully I will be soon.
We are the same person separated by 41 years. Our physical similarities are obvious; we share the same blond hair and speckle-green eyes, but it is our personalities that are most similar. My mother is an adventurer- in every since of the word. She doesn’t find her happiness in routine or stability. She loves fiercely and gives dutifully. She approaches people unafraid; as though she has never known hurt before, but when you speak with her you quickly realize she has lived a long life of ups and downs.
In truth, I can only hope we are the same person separated by a 41 years.
When I first told her I was thinking of moving to France to work after I graduated she responded, “of course”. This weekend when I timidly told her that I was thinking that I wanted to stay overseas for longer than a year she responded, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me.” She knows and understands me so well that it amazes me at times. She is smart and quick, always looking for more information to learn and expand her horizons. She understands it all but there is one point where we stand at opposite ends of a chasm- religion.
My mother is a missionary. I know; I can’t believe it at times either. She travels to India and Haiti to work with orphans. That’s right- ORPHANS.
Mother Theresa is my mother and sometimes I don’t know what to do about it. I want so badly to talk to her about my own struggles with the church. I want to tell her that I’m trying; oh I’m trying, to understand how the Sunday-school stories and the newspaper speak of the same planet. That I’m trying to understand how “God told me” is a valid answer to any question when this is the same woman that never believed in using the phrase ‘Because I told you so”. She raised me to question and to pursue everything yet when it comes to Christianity she becomes docile and submissive. I want to understand why my mother has cried over her inability to speak in tongues. Why she has been made to feel less-than because she is unmarried and, well, a little weird. I want to love her and believe her with everything but my skepticism begins to creep in and I suddenly need more than a calm pat on the hand. I need more than her clear green eyes closed in prayer, but I’m going to keep trying because I want to believe again. I want to say “God told me”, just so I can have one ounce of assurance in my life. I want to lie in peace, enveloped in a love that is strong enough to break this wild horse.
I want to be the same person separated by 41 years.
*for clarification- My mother was 41 years old when I was born. She has led a very interesting life as a war activist/ labor union president/ free-loving hippie. She is finally doing what my friends have told me to do for years- she’s having a book written about her. She has asked me to write a chapter; something that will explain my perspective on her life. I’m not ready yet but hopefully I will be soon.
Friday, August 3
Well, I Remember
conversations #2
The air was warm and thick, the way East Texas summers are. The lazy atmosphere consumed even the sun during its nightly descent, as the golden rays seemingly basked them for hours. The crickets sang a chorus that complimented the silence that sat between them. Lovers that had once found comfort in every utterance were now separated by the immense time that had left their relationship fragile. The woman that now sat beside him was a mystery; her green eyes presented an enigma as they coldly gazed over the lake.
“You came to see me the other day.” His statement felt safe in the myriad of questions that surrounded him. He could see that her heart was full of them, questions of purpose and meaning. He felt his statement was feeble and lacking, but he concentrated his gaze on her face, looking vainly for a flicker of response.
“You came to see me and I wasn’t there.” This delicate dance was going to be slow. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, watching an unknown scene.
“No.” He was struck by the quiet but strong word that had materialized between them. Her face remained unchanged but her voice had been too definitive to be a figment. “You were there.” She turned to him slowly, but her eyes remained fixed ahead as she measured her words. “You were there and you left. I reached for you and…” Her eyes darted to her hands as she gathered the strength to go on. “…and you pulled back. You left. You were always the one that was there, quietly unassuming and reassuring with your constant love. Now…I don’t know you anymore.” Her words cut him deeply as her eyes finally looked into his. The emerald of her eyes had shifted into a hard jade. Her gaze fell back to her hands and a revelation suddenly gripped her mind. “I reached for you.” Her hand shot out at the precise moment she awoke alone in her bed. Her cry was filled with confusion, hope and despair, “oh God,” but silence was her only answer.
conversations #2
The air was warm and thick, the way East Texas summers are. The lazy atmosphere consumed even the sun during its nightly descent, as the golden rays seemingly basked them for hours. The crickets sang a chorus that complimented the silence that sat between them. Lovers that had once found comfort in every utterance were now separated by the immense time that had left their relationship fragile. The woman that now sat beside him was a mystery; her green eyes presented an enigma as they coldly gazed over the lake.
“You came to see me the other day.” His statement felt safe in the myriad of questions that surrounded him. He could see that her heart was full of them, questions of purpose and meaning. He felt his statement was feeble and lacking, but he concentrated his gaze on her face, looking vainly for a flicker of response.
“You came to see me and I wasn’t there.” This delicate dance was going to be slow. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, watching an unknown scene.
“No.” He was struck by the quiet but strong word that had materialized between them. Her face remained unchanged but her voice had been too definitive to be a figment. “You were there.” She turned to him slowly, but her eyes remained fixed ahead as she measured her words. “You were there and you left. I reached for you and…” Her eyes darted to her hands as she gathered the strength to go on. “…and you pulled back. You left. You were always the one that was there, quietly unassuming and reassuring with your constant love. Now…I don’t know you anymore.” Her words cut him deeply as her eyes finally looked into his. The emerald of her eyes had shifted into a hard jade. Her gaze fell back to her hands and a revelation suddenly gripped her mind. “I reached for you.” Her hand shot out at the precise moment she awoke alone in her bed. Her cry was filled with confusion, hope and despair, “oh God,” but silence was her only answer.
Wednesday, August 1
Monday, July 30
Damn Lucky
Here’s the problem. I’ve got to be blown away. I mean, AMAZED. Then again, I have to be adored. The two don’t seem to mix. I mean, if I am truly amazed by a guy then what is the likelihood he will feel the same way about me? Whereas, if I am not amazed by the guy but he is amazed by me we will continue to play a charade where I keep going on date after date hoping that at some point I am amazed by him all the while knowing that even if I were to get into a relationship with this person I would not be happy because I would be constantly thinking about how they just do not blow me away.
Got it?
So maybe this is why I’ve been so utterly single for the past sixteen months unless you count the blip that was Kip, but I don’t (unless he does) -which I’m sure he doesn’t. So I am back to the beginning. I’ve got a bit of a problem and my friends are tired of hearing about it. One of my friends says I’m way too picky and I need to lower my standards and give someone a fucking chance.
“For Christsakes Clare, give him a fucking chance!”
And then my other friend, well she listens quite quietly and then responds “Well Clare you see it’s not really that big of a deal. It doesn’t really matter at all. Next week someone new will ask you out and you will replace this heartbreak with a new one. Don’t you see that you never have to be upset because there’s always a replacement? Well, at least for girls like you.”
You would think I didn’t have a heart. I can steal feel…whether it be for one or twenty.
(Whoa that sounds messed up)
Then my ex says “You’re damn lucky you’re pretty. You as annoying as hell and no one would put up with that sarcasm of yours if you weren’t so damn pretty.” And I think, shit he’s right. I am severely messed up and every day and date that goes by proves the point even further. I want to think it wasn’t always this way. Once, when asked how old I was the last time I was single, I responded…”I don’t know…12”. Yeah, it happened.
But through a dramatic course of events that involved one birthday, a chocolate pie, a Myspace page, and an extremely pissed-off Clare, I decided to take a break. I hung up my dancing shoes. I didn’t go on a single date for three months. Then there was New Years, some garbage-can punch, and one serious conversation in the bathroom. Again, I was left smarting.
Well, I made that birthday call again this year but left out the chocolate pie. As I sat down the phone, I looked at my best-friend (the one with the boyfriend) and we both said “What a difference a year makes”.
The point is that, I am still single and I’m OK. I’m moving to France in two months for a year abroad until I start law school. Honestly, I’m in love with my life right now. Do I wish there was someone to share it with? Sometimes, but more often than not, I am content.
At the end of the day, I’m still friends with all my exes (minus one), my friends ask for my advice on their relationships (so I must not be too messed-up), and my guy friends do wonderful things like tell me I’m the epitome of amazingness (I heart Pat).
You know, being the single friend isn’t so bad after all.
Here’s the problem. I’ve got to be blown away. I mean, AMAZED. Then again, I have to be adored. The two don’t seem to mix. I mean, if I am truly amazed by a guy then what is the likelihood he will feel the same way about me? Whereas, if I am not amazed by the guy but he is amazed by me we will continue to play a charade where I keep going on date after date hoping that at some point I am amazed by him all the while knowing that even if I were to get into a relationship with this person I would not be happy because I would be constantly thinking about how they just do not blow me away.
Got it?
So maybe this is why I’ve been so utterly single for the past sixteen months unless you count the blip that was Kip, but I don’t (unless he does) -which I’m sure he doesn’t. So I am back to the beginning. I’ve got a bit of a problem and my friends are tired of hearing about it. One of my friends says I’m way too picky and I need to lower my standards and give someone a fucking chance.
“For Christsakes Clare, give him a fucking chance!”
And then my other friend, well she listens quite quietly and then responds “Well Clare you see it’s not really that big of a deal. It doesn’t really matter at all. Next week someone new will ask you out and you will replace this heartbreak with a new one. Don’t you see that you never have to be upset because there’s always a replacement? Well, at least for girls like you.”
You would think I didn’t have a heart. I can steal feel…whether it be for one or twenty.
(Whoa that sounds messed up)
Then my ex says “You’re damn lucky you’re pretty. You as annoying as hell and no one would put up with that sarcasm of yours if you weren’t so damn pretty.” And I think, shit he’s right. I am severely messed up and every day and date that goes by proves the point even further. I want to think it wasn’t always this way. Once, when asked how old I was the last time I was single, I responded…”I don’t know…12”. Yeah, it happened.
But through a dramatic course of events that involved one birthday, a chocolate pie, a Myspace page, and an extremely pissed-off Clare, I decided to take a break. I hung up my dancing shoes. I didn’t go on a single date for three months. Then there was New Years, some garbage-can punch, and one serious conversation in the bathroom. Again, I was left smarting.
Well, I made that birthday call again this year but left out the chocolate pie. As I sat down the phone, I looked at my best-friend (the one with the boyfriend) and we both said “What a difference a year makes”.
The point is that, I am still single and I’m OK. I’m moving to France in two months for a year abroad until I start law school. Honestly, I’m in love with my life right now. Do I wish there was someone to share it with? Sometimes, but more often than not, I am content.
At the end of the day, I’m still friends with all my exes (minus one), my friends ask for my advice on their relationships (so I must not be too messed-up), and my guy friends do wonderful things like tell me I’m the epitome of amazingness (I heart Pat).
You know, being the single friend isn’t so bad after all.
Thursday, July 26
Remember it well
Conversations #1
She breathed in a sigh of relief and listened to the wood creak in response. Old wooden benches, laid down with piety, rubbed worn from trembling hands. “Remember us?” she spoke softly to him. “Remember us in this place, when I was young and you were so wise. Remember when you held me here and made me believe? I remember it well, my skin on fire with the warmth of your embrace; I can feel it now.
“Remember us?”
The sweat of her palm left a print on the antique wood, an unseen mark to her tightly closed eyes. Her memories plagued the moments that surrounded her, causing her fear of what she might see if her eyes were to open. The air around her was thick, warming her through her thin blouse.
“I know we can be together again if we just…”
She reached her hands out to touch him but only grasped the air. Her eyes opened in a flourish of despair and she was alone again. There were no accompanying palm prints to remind her of the presence she had felt so clearly next to her. There was no sound that could fill the void that permeated the dark wooden walls. Her eyes quickly pressed tightly together again but the words were gone. Her throat choked back a cry, the air whitened by the condensation in her warm breath. She placed her palms squarely on the altar, and lifted herself up from her knees. With her eyes squarely on the cross she turned and walked slowly out of the sanctuary.
Conversations #1
She breathed in a sigh of relief and listened to the wood creak in response. Old wooden benches, laid down with piety, rubbed worn from trembling hands. “Remember us?” she spoke softly to him. “Remember us in this place, when I was young and you were so wise. Remember when you held me here and made me believe? I remember it well, my skin on fire with the warmth of your embrace; I can feel it now.
“Remember us?”
The sweat of her palm left a print on the antique wood, an unseen mark to her tightly closed eyes. Her memories plagued the moments that surrounded her, causing her fear of what she might see if her eyes were to open. The air around her was thick, warming her through her thin blouse.
“I know we can be together again if we just…”
She reached her hands out to touch him but only grasped the air. Her eyes opened in a flourish of despair and she was alone again. There were no accompanying palm prints to remind her of the presence she had felt so clearly next to her. There was no sound that could fill the void that permeated the dark wooden walls. Her eyes quickly pressed tightly together again but the words were gone. Her throat choked back a cry, the air whitened by the condensation in her warm breath. She placed her palms squarely on the altar, and lifted herself up from her knees. With her eyes squarely on the cross she turned and walked slowly out of the sanctuary.
Monday, July 23
Chapter 7
This Life
“The words of the American Declaration of Independence ring: right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. This is what America is about: the pursuit. Notice that the framers did not write that people had the outright right to happiness. No, that would have been far too easy. You see, America has become to be defined by this statement, this turn of phrase, which will promise you the chance to pursue all your wildest dreams, lest you achieve some, that you can began your pursuit over again. Europe is a continent defined by its history; America is defined by the lack of history. America is an idea. It was born out of an idea and has thrived upon many more. Philosophers believed the skies were higher in the United States. What was this open space used for? It was space for the mind, space for thought. When you begin to grasp the concept of the America, then you will begin to understand her and the literature that has been written about her.” Mr. Johnson’s emphasis has ended sharply on the word ‘her’. His hand poised in the air with the pointer and thumb pursed together as if to place the importance directly into our minds.
“Can you see it?” A voice from behind startles me as it whispers delicately in my ear. I turn around so quick that Christopher is forced to jerk back.
“What are you doing here?” My voice sounds more accusatory than I had imagined it in my head but he had caught me off guard. I notice the strange feeling that is left in me at the surprise site of him, a mixture of anger, annoyance, and… love.
“I teach this class. Remember?” His voice is haughty but doesn’t explain why he chose to sit in the BACK of a class that he normally instructs but today has let a visiting American professor lead. “Oh, come on Maria, how long are you going to leave me in this state or purgatory?”
“What the bloody ‘ell are you on about?”
“This state of unknown, either we’re friends or we’re not. We’re together or we’re not…. I’ve missed you.” The fact that he is still behind me has prevented me from fully seeing his face on this last statement.
“Thank you class, I will be here all week helping Professor Woolsey.” All the students immediately began to pack their things and talk amongst themselves. That was one thing I always enjoyed about English classrooms, nobody started packing before the professor was finished.
“Christopher”, I say as I stand up to face him and put away my things, “I would prefer you not say those things unless you are in the position to do something about it. I have never said that we can’t be friends but it’s going to take some time for me.”
“Right, of course love, He leans in to wrap his arms around me and give me a kiss on my cheek, whispering into my ear, “I’m sorry.”
I want to melt and scream at the same time. Once, after we had broken up, Sarah saw him do this very same routine- a strong hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her response had been, “I’d still be in love with him too if he gave me hugs like that.”
I didn’t have a response at the time, and there was none for me right now. I nodded and walked quickly out of the room…
“He’s an arrogant prick and you shouldn’t be talking to him.” Sarah’s statement is punctuated by her slamming beer. Ah beer and girlfriends, it’s what makes the world go round.
‘I just…”
“No, listen to me. Maria, I’m going to be honest with you. You might not want to hear this but it is the truth. You like a lot of people and a lot of people like you. It happens. You can find someone else. You know that. I know when you met Christopher, it was amazing but he’s not the end of your life. He’s not John.”
“Thanks” I mutter and turn to gaze out the window. The campus was beginning to weigh down on me.
“Besides, what the hell was that purgatory comment about? I told you not to date someone in the English department, they are entirely too melodramatic. Remember the time he thought you were dating Stephen and he text-messaged you: I want to expose your tangled web of lies. Give me a fucking break. Maria, you know what your problem is?”
“No, please tell me.” I smile at her but she doesn’t appreciate my sarcasm.
“You want excitement and depth. You want someone that is passionate yet analytical. You want this crazy mix of person that, well, just ends up being crazy. If you would settle down with a nice normal guy maybe you wouldn’t have all this drama. I mean, seriously, you should write a book about all these experiences. Are you listening to me?”
I was still gazing outside of our college pub, considering where else I could go to get away from here.
“Do you want to go to Spain?” I’m still looking at the passing college kids when I say this, asking myself and Sarah at the same time.
“What? I mean, Ok, but why?”
“I don’t really want this life”
My statement has caught us both off-guard. It was one of those moments when you speak the real truth and it scares the shit out of people. One of those moments that if you don’t change something immediately then you will know you lost your chance.
“Yeah… well right now it’s the only one you got.” We gaze at each other for a few moments to let the sentence sink in.
Slowly Sarah lifts her drink, “Finish your beer; we have a plane ticket to buy.”
This Life
“The words of the American Declaration of Independence ring: right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. This is what America is about: the pursuit. Notice that the framers did not write that people had the outright right to happiness. No, that would have been far too easy. You see, America has become to be defined by this statement, this turn of phrase, which will promise you the chance to pursue all your wildest dreams, lest you achieve some, that you can began your pursuit over again. Europe is a continent defined by its history; America is defined by the lack of history. America is an idea. It was born out of an idea and has thrived upon many more. Philosophers believed the skies were higher in the United States. What was this open space used for? It was space for the mind, space for thought. When you begin to grasp the concept of the America, then you will begin to understand her and the literature that has been written about her.” Mr. Johnson’s emphasis has ended sharply on the word ‘her’. His hand poised in the air with the pointer and thumb pursed together as if to place the importance directly into our minds.
“Can you see it?” A voice from behind startles me as it whispers delicately in my ear. I turn around so quick that Christopher is forced to jerk back.
“What are you doing here?” My voice sounds more accusatory than I had imagined it in my head but he had caught me off guard. I notice the strange feeling that is left in me at the surprise site of him, a mixture of anger, annoyance, and… love.
“I teach this class. Remember?” His voice is haughty but doesn’t explain why he chose to sit in the BACK of a class that he normally instructs but today has let a visiting American professor lead. “Oh, come on Maria, how long are you going to leave me in this state or purgatory?”
“What the bloody ‘ell are you on about?”
“This state of unknown, either we’re friends or we’re not. We’re together or we’re not…. I’ve missed you.” The fact that he is still behind me has prevented me from fully seeing his face on this last statement.
“Thank you class, I will be here all week helping Professor Woolsey.” All the students immediately began to pack their things and talk amongst themselves. That was one thing I always enjoyed about English classrooms, nobody started packing before the professor was finished.
“Christopher”, I say as I stand up to face him and put away my things, “I would prefer you not say those things unless you are in the position to do something about it. I have never said that we can’t be friends but it’s going to take some time for me.”
“Right, of course love, He leans in to wrap his arms around me and give me a kiss on my cheek, whispering into my ear, “I’m sorry.”
I want to melt and scream at the same time. Once, after we had broken up, Sarah saw him do this very same routine- a strong hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her response had been, “I’d still be in love with him too if he gave me hugs like that.”
I didn’t have a response at the time, and there was none for me right now. I nodded and walked quickly out of the room…
“He’s an arrogant prick and you shouldn’t be talking to him.” Sarah’s statement is punctuated by her slamming beer. Ah beer and girlfriends, it’s what makes the world go round.
‘I just…”
“No, listen to me. Maria, I’m going to be honest with you. You might not want to hear this but it is the truth. You like a lot of people and a lot of people like you. It happens. You can find someone else. You know that. I know when you met Christopher, it was amazing but he’s not the end of your life. He’s not John.”
“Thanks” I mutter and turn to gaze out the window. The campus was beginning to weigh down on me.
“Besides, what the hell was that purgatory comment about? I told you not to date someone in the English department, they are entirely too melodramatic. Remember the time he thought you were dating Stephen and he text-messaged you: I want to expose your tangled web of lies. Give me a fucking break. Maria, you know what your problem is?”
“No, please tell me.” I smile at her but she doesn’t appreciate my sarcasm.
“You want excitement and depth. You want someone that is passionate yet analytical. You want this crazy mix of person that, well, just ends up being crazy. If you would settle down with a nice normal guy maybe you wouldn’t have all this drama. I mean, seriously, you should write a book about all these experiences. Are you listening to me?”
I was still gazing outside of our college pub, considering where else I could go to get away from here.
“Do you want to go to Spain?” I’m still looking at the passing college kids when I say this, asking myself and Sarah at the same time.
“What? I mean, Ok, but why?”
“I don’t really want this life”
My statement has caught us both off-guard. It was one of those moments when you speak the real truth and it scares the shit out of people. One of those moments that if you don’t change something immediately then you will know you lost your chance.
“Yeah… well right now it’s the only one you got.” We gaze at each other for a few moments to let the sentence sink in.
Slowly Sarah lifts her drink, “Finish your beer; we have a plane ticket to buy.”
Sunday, July 22
Friday, July 20
This one is for the Ladies
Here something that’s been a long time coming. If it sounds like a rant, well, that’s because it is. If it sounds angry…hmm…it’s not. I’m not angry about myself. I have no one to be angry at. But I am angry for my friends and that’s who I am writing this note for: the lovely ladies.
Men, there’s a couple of things we need to get straight. First of all, men always complain about not understanding women. I concede this point. We are difficult creatures at times and many days don’t understand ourselves but let me be clear that difficult does not swing both ways. Guys are not hard to understand. Sorry guys, but your simple creatures. Now, does this make us any less frustrated with you? NO. Why? Because we do understand you. We know why you are annoying the hell out of us, we know it full well. We knew it was going to happen before it did and let me tell you- that is the most frustrating part of all.
Basically, there are three reasons why a guy does something. THREE. Nice and simple.
Selfishness- yeah I said it. You see, men, you don’t seem to have the ability to think beyond yourselves. You don’t realize that there are other people in the world, namely women, who are most likely pouring themselves out daily for you while you just walk along whistling Dixie and not giving a shit. Also, if a girl does do something for you, don’t reward her with “you’re the best girlfriend ever” and ‘you’re such a sweet girl”. We don’t like to be patronized. If you think we’re so sweet then return the favor instead of sitting back with the beer we brought you and thinking how in the world you wound up with someone as awesome as us.
Btw, yes she wants you to call. So just do it.
Stubbornness- Oh this is my personal favorite. The guy that says he never knows what you want and then when you tell them what you want they say they don’t want to be forced to do anything…. WHAT?!?!?! Here’s a clue: If a girl says she likes flowers, she WANTS flowers. If a girl says she wants to go to the movie, she WANTS to go to the movie. If a girl likes a particular chicken salad from a particular store, she WANTS you to pick up that particular chicken salad when you are there (and if she picks it up she doesn’t want you to eat it all- you know who I’m talking to). Which this last point supports my previous point about selfishness, its not that you guys are trying to be mean, you just don’t think about us.
Amendment: sometimes guys are mean but I think it usually can still be chalked up to a slow-witted, “I didn’t really think before I acted” attitude that most men have. But even if this is the case, ladies, please don’t take him back. You can fix a lot of things but you can’t fix stupid.
Two heads?!?! Here’s the old standby and maybe it is overused but I’ve met too many guys for which it is true. Just don’t. Don’t. And if you do, don’t think we can’t do the same thing. There are Samantha Jones’ out there and they do only want you for your sex. This is not most women. I have had friends ask me if it was ok for them to just want to sleep with a guy. I generally tell them yes, under the following conditions: That more is not expected (this is the part that most guys fail at, Just assume the girl wants more unless she tells you otherwise). And it’s what they truly want, if two people go into it knowing nothing is coming out then…well that’s their own business.
If there’s something I’m missing, then please comment back. But there is another point I would like to make.
Breasts
Say it
They aren’t that amazing
They sit on our chest and mostly impede the proper buttoning of our shirts.
And they are NOT….NOT…for you to stare at.
There are few things less annoying then when a girl is out on a date, looking cute for her BOYFRIEND and some dumbass waiter decides to stare at her boobs. They aren’t for you buddy and do you really not see the 6’4” guy next to us?
Don’t catch quick glances when we aren’t looking – we saw you do it anyways.
Don’t catch yourself drifting during an intense conversation- it makes you think you don’t care what we think about global politics.
And DON’T talk to them--- THEY DON’T TALK BACK.
There it is- my rant. Alas men, if all of this is to no avail and you decide to continue being a jackass just go do it somewhere where I don’t have to hear about it.
*Note: not all men are jackasses. I have some really great guy friends but I will stand by my old saying “You never know a guy until you date them”. A guy can be a perfectly wonderful creature into you place them a situation that requires forethought, commitment, and communication.
Here something that’s been a long time coming. If it sounds like a rant, well, that’s because it is. If it sounds angry…hmm…it’s not. I’m not angry about myself. I have no one to be angry at. But I am angry for my friends and that’s who I am writing this note for: the lovely ladies.
Men, there’s a couple of things we need to get straight. First of all, men always complain about not understanding women. I concede this point. We are difficult creatures at times and many days don’t understand ourselves but let me be clear that difficult does not swing both ways. Guys are not hard to understand. Sorry guys, but your simple creatures. Now, does this make us any less frustrated with you? NO. Why? Because we do understand you. We know why you are annoying the hell out of us, we know it full well. We knew it was going to happen before it did and let me tell you- that is the most frustrating part of all.
Basically, there are three reasons why a guy does something. THREE. Nice and simple.
Selfishness- yeah I said it. You see, men, you don’t seem to have the ability to think beyond yourselves. You don’t realize that there are other people in the world, namely women, who are most likely pouring themselves out daily for you while you just walk along whistling Dixie and not giving a shit. Also, if a girl does do something for you, don’t reward her with “you’re the best girlfriend ever” and ‘you’re such a sweet girl”. We don’t like to be patronized. If you think we’re so sweet then return the favor instead of sitting back with the beer we brought you and thinking how in the world you wound up with someone as awesome as us.
Btw, yes she wants you to call. So just do it.
Stubbornness- Oh this is my personal favorite. The guy that says he never knows what you want and then when you tell them what you want they say they don’t want to be forced to do anything…. WHAT?!?!?! Here’s a clue: If a girl says she likes flowers, she WANTS flowers. If a girl says she wants to go to the movie, she WANTS to go to the movie. If a girl likes a particular chicken salad from a particular store, she WANTS you to pick up that particular chicken salad when you are there (and if she picks it up she doesn’t want you to eat it all- you know who I’m talking to). Which this last point supports my previous point about selfishness, its not that you guys are trying to be mean, you just don’t think about us.
Amendment: sometimes guys are mean but I think it usually can still be chalked up to a slow-witted, “I didn’t really think before I acted” attitude that most men have. But even if this is the case, ladies, please don’t take him back. You can fix a lot of things but you can’t fix stupid.
Two heads?!?! Here’s the old standby and maybe it is overused but I’ve met too many guys for which it is true. Just don’t. Don’t. And if you do, don’t think we can’t do the same thing. There are Samantha Jones’ out there and they do only want you for your sex. This is not most women. I have had friends ask me if it was ok for them to just want to sleep with a guy. I generally tell them yes, under the following conditions: That more is not expected (this is the part that most guys fail at, Just assume the girl wants more unless she tells you otherwise). And it’s what they truly want, if two people go into it knowing nothing is coming out then…well that’s their own business.
If there’s something I’m missing, then please comment back. But there is another point I would like to make.
Breasts
Say it
They aren’t that amazing
They sit on our chest and mostly impede the proper buttoning of our shirts.
And they are NOT….NOT…for you to stare at.
There are few things less annoying then when a girl is out on a date, looking cute for her BOYFRIEND and some dumbass waiter decides to stare at her boobs. They aren’t for you buddy and do you really not see the 6’4” guy next to us?
Don’t catch quick glances when we aren’t looking – we saw you do it anyways.
Don’t catch yourself drifting during an intense conversation- it makes you think you don’t care what we think about global politics.
And DON’T talk to them--- THEY DON’T TALK BACK.
There it is- my rant. Alas men, if all of this is to no avail and you decide to continue being a jackass just go do it somewhere where I don’t have to hear about it.
*Note: not all men are jackasses. I have some really great guy friends but I will stand by my old saying “You never know a guy until you date them”. A guy can be a perfectly wonderful creature into you place them a situation that requires forethought, commitment, and communication.
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