Dec 16, 2010

The us in Trust

The us in Trust

When I was a little girl, I believed wholly that one day I’d meet the man of my dreams. He’d be tall and handsome, he’d make me laugh without having to try, could speak more than one language, read all sorts of books, and would recognize instantly that I was the girl for him. As I got older, I realized that my fantasy was probably not going to come true. The most I could hope for would be to meet a nice guy who I got along with, who had a job and an education, and who would be faithful and make me happy. Now, I’m not even sure that’s real. If I were to let myself be led by the relationships I see around me, it’s very hard to hold out any sort of hope. Despite the muggy views some people seem to have about what a real relationship is, I keep waiting for my bona fide love to come, but it just keeps getting harder and harder to be optimistic.

It’s been a tough trip on my road to love so far. I’ve had heart ache, heart break, and heart hibernation, which basically means very extensive periods of time where I don’t feel anything romantic for anyone. At first, when I started thinking I was ready to have love appear in my life, I used to be kind of picky. I wanted a boy who would fit the mold I had dreamt of while I was younger. Obviously this did not come to pass, and I never got my prince charming. Instead I was met with many young fellows who thought the idea of romance meant leaving flirty messages for you online and waiting until you looked the other way before checking out your friend. Needless to say, I’ve become sort of an expert at rolling my eyes, faking interest, and bailing. However, even someone who has become as big a romance skeptic as I am can feel a little overwhelmed when faced with what seems to be a growing trend in relationships. Everybody cheats.

Now, I realize I’m making a huge generalization here, and thus I risk alienating a lot of people, but it’s simply something I’ve seen in at least 80% of the relationships around me. And I don’t just mean physical infidelity here, as I am also referring to emotional cheating. It’s a pretty rare thing for me to talk to someone in a relationship and hear that they’re completely satisfied with their situation and wouldn’t stray for anything in the world; or for anybody. The saddest part of this observation is that usually the people I know suspect what is going on, but they choose to ignore it, or worse, they do it themselves to make things fair. My dreams of love and being faithful have all but shattered because of this sudden trend to be disloyal.

I won’t pretend to be a saint here, or completely blameless, because I have at times been a willing participant in exchanges that could be considered adulterous. I’ve never cheated on a man, but I’ve reciprocated physical or emotional intimacy with one or two men who I knew were involved; either because I found out about too late, or I knew it from the start but simply chose not to see it, due to not actually knowing the girl, assuming they weren’t really happy, or any other sort of excuse I would use to brush the guilt that at times crept up off my shoulders in order to be content. The truth is though that it catches up to you and, in reality, if I’m so willing to be a participant in this sort of illicit affair, why should I be so surprised that people out there cheat? Or that it’s so easy for people to cheat on me? It shouldn’t be, but it always is, and it always hurts just the same.

I’ve tried to be better at realizing when I’m about to cross a line that I’ll regret later; to spot when I’m about to give in to temptation, and pull back from it. I haven’t perfected it yet, but at least I’m trying. It just doesn’t seem like others care to try this though and it makes me sad. The saddest moment though is when someone is being unfaithful, willing lying to their partner, and then has the gall to proclaim their love to the seven winds as if it’s a blessing from above that makes their life brighter every day. Is it really? Is your life that amazing and are you that in love with Miss A? Weren’t you were just kissing Miss B a few hours before? Who are you trying to fool, her or yourself? And ladies aren’t too far behind on this either. I will happily add that through actual concrete knowledge, it’s not just the men; a lot of times women are the ones who cross this moral line and then feign indignation when it’s done to them. Women like these, or rather little girls in women’s bodies, give us real women, strong, intelligent, faithful, a bad name. They’re the reason why a week won’t go by without me being called a bitch. Or why the word whore has become a casual nickname tossed around like honey or baby. And as far as emotional cheating is concerned, is there really anything that could hurt more? Finding out that sure, the person you love is still physically attracted to you, but they’ve actually fallen in love with someone else. That they didn’t do anything, but they thought about it…a lot; probably while they were with you. Stab me in the front this time, so I can actually see it coming, will you?

I may hate Valentine’s day, I may roll my eyes at engagement ring commercials, and I may get a little sad whenever I hear a love song, but I still hope to one day find that man who might not be THE prince charming, but he’ll be mine. I know I can be a good woman for a good man. I know I can find someone who I want to share my life with, who will fulfill me in ways that seem impossible now. I know because I’ve seen it. Despite being surrounded by so much romantically stunted crap, I’ve seen some light in the dark. There are people capable of happiness, so why isn’t everyone working for it? Maybe it’s because they’re afraid? Because they think that if they give their whole heart out, truly and unwaveringly, they might get it broken. If they claim true love, but secretly have ulterior motives, then they can’t be the ones hurt, even though they’ll be the ones doing the hurting. Better to dump than be dumped right? But what kind of a life is that to live when you keep your heart in a gossamer box so no one can ever touch it? It doesn’t seem like a very fulfilling one.

So maybe, just maybe, people should risk actually feeling something and not self-sabotaging. It could lead to real pain and heartbreak, but it could also lead to real love. True, colorful, cold chest, tingling fingertips, loosing your breath and getting it back, dancing in the rain kind of love. Isn’t that a worth it? Isn’t that worth risking your own heart? I sure hope it is…and I hope to get the chance to find out. In the mean time, I’ll keep waiting for other to realize what I’ve always known, but haven’t actually lived up to. That real love is worth fighting for, but in order to get it, you actually have to try. And in the end, there is no Us without Trust. Well, there is…but it’s not really as fun, now is it?

“The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we're afraid. We fear we will not find love, and when we find it we fear we'll lose it. We fear that if we do not have love we will be unhappy.”

Richard Bach

Nov 29, 2010

I Laugh Because You're Stupid...

Day in and day out more and more men, for in this particular rant I shall focus on that Y chromosome, act foolishly and irresponsibly; stumbling along with their knuckles dragging in the dirt, making assumptions about the female mind, and proclaiming that only they are entitled to piss on the metaphorical bush of life. Just when I think I've gotten the relative gist of the whole thing, perhaps a vague outline of how the male mind works, it shocks me with another act of blatant stupidity. Alas, then I sit back and remember: These are my male counterparts I'm talking about, so of course this shouldn't surprise me. It's really sad to think that I've become so used to seeing idiotic acts in my everyday life, that they no longer stir a genuine reaction in me.

As an explanation for this observation of the males in my presence as of late, let's take Mr. A into consideration. He's a young virile example of masculinity in the prime of life; attempting to make his way into the world through recently acquired work. While one may look at this man-boy and see potential, I look upon him and see the past coming back to haunt us all. For he is not in fact living out his own life, but that of those that came before him. I speak of course of Being-Better-Than-My-Daddy Boy. Not to be confused with I-Have-Daddy-Issues-Guy, who carries around with him a WHOLE other collection of problems that can only be handled by a professional charging $200.00 by the hour. BBTMD Boy lives in the proverbial and ever present shadow of his father figure. While having the desire to work his way out of this suffocating and all consuming presence, he does not have the capacity to go about this in a decent manner. His idea: I Shall Whore Around Whenever Possible, Thus Spreading My Seed to the Four Winds and Securing My Legacy! The victims: Every female within spiting distance.

While one may find themselves overwhelmed by the presence of this at times cunning but mostly moronic figure, it's really all up to the individual to handle these encounters. One may take the Romantic Approach, also known as the Path of Moron, and think they can change this individual. That upon meeting such a fresh faced and special girl, Mr. BBTMD will see the error of his ways and learn to love the right way; one at a time and with a condom. As you can tell by my name for this path, however, I disagree with this course of action. My way of handling this type of boy is simple: Light It, Smoke It, Toss the Butt. Whenever this type of individual walks into my life and I happen to be single and bored, I take advantage of the situation. Usually this results in a few weeks worth of trysts, as the individual tends to have one specific significant other whom he rotates the rest of his agenda around, and heated but brief sessions. (In rare instances, BBTMD Boy will have a significant other who is herself a BBTMWF GF or Be-Better-Than-My-Whore-Friends Girl Friend. This girl enjoys the stability of a relationship, while simultaneously finding happiness with any and all penises near by). It's a simple set of rules to follow. Do not get emotionally attached, do not think you're more important than you are, and always be prepared to bail out as soon as necessary. Case and point: When BBTMD Boy starts to say he wishes he had met you before he met his significant other, it's time to start packing your emotional luggage and buying yourself a ticket on the next train out of Dodge, because bold statements like these only serve to pull you in even deeper so in the end you will be the Dumpee and not the Dumper. You can take the adult-ish trail here and express your ideals to BBTMD Boy, hoping that you can mutually part ways and both continue your semi-normal existence OR and here is where I am an expert: AVOID, AVOID, AVOID. Eventually you will fade from BBTMD's consciousness, simply because he is too busy keeping track of his various love affairs to notice that he has been ditched. This leaves you in the free and clear to seek out another fling to fill the days.

I realize this blog might seem like it doesn't really have an end point to it, but now I shall try to summarize my feelings in a neat package.

Men, and I will add here not all men, as sometimes one can be lucky enough to stumble over enough rocks and man-whores to land next to a pretty decent chap who will split a date night check and NOT look at a woman's ass when she walks by, are easily fooled into thinking that they know everything and can keep secrets from us. They think that we don't know they pretend they're only interested in us, while really having about three other girls on the back burner. They think we don't know that when they get quiet while chatting with us, it means they're talking on the phone with the BBTMWF Girlfriend. They think we don't know the rules of this game their playing. But the truth is, we wrote them. We know all the tricks, we know all the rules, we know all the cheat codes, we're just pretending we don't. You laugh because you're getting away with murder, but the truth is I know where all your bodies are buried. I laugh because you're stupid...and you didn't even notice I stole your Microwave when I left.

Lost and Found

When searching through one's closet, it's often times possible to accidentally stumble upon an item that's been lost in the vast void and chaos that is clutter. A shoe here, a sock there, a purse, half a lipstick, a receipt for a jacket that seemed like a good idea at the time until you realize that sequence tends to snag on any and every earring you will ever's inevitable. With the fast pace grab-and-go attitude of the world, it's hard to keep track of every little thing you once held dear. Apparently, this also happens with blogs.

While enjoying the wonders and delights that New York has to offer during a recent visit, it was suggested to me that it might be a good idea to start a Blog, so as to record my stunningly brilliant but at times flash-quick remarks about life as I know it. I pondered this suggestion for a while, and decided it was high-time I made my mark on the internet landscape for all the world to see. Well, it turns out that I already had this account set up a while ago through my Gmail web address, soooo time to dust off the old typing digits and dive into the web waters.

I'm typing this up in the hopes that somewhere out there, someone will grab a hold of this random message in a Cyber-Bottle and feel slightly amused by my at-times mindless rants about life, love, the universe, and everything.

Much love to whomever reads my words and best wishes

Apr 13, 2010

Wasting a Few Minutes Before Eating Meatloaf

So, while waiting for my online episode of Grey's Anatomy to load (no judging) I read an interesting blog and decided to activate my account. While I was reflecting over the millions of wondrous and life changing things I could write about, I realized I was starving and the smell of my mom's cooking wafted up the stairs and into my deliriously weak being. So for now, this is my hello to whoever reads this. Most likely no one will except for the ghosts that haunt the interweb. And so I bid you spirits adieu and see ya laterz.