Thursday, May 29, 2008

Twenty-Bloody-Nine. Come On, I Dare You.

Birthdays. Ugh. Someone told me recently that birthdays aren’t about taking stock of your life, they’re about being glad that you’re alive because the only other alternative is death. Cheery, eh? I don’t really buy it, though. I’m much more of a “take stock” kind of girl. I always look back at the previous year, and years really, of my life and survey how far I’ve come, what I’ve learned, if I’m progressing. I do that on my birthday and on New Year’s too, as cliché as that is.

But this year. Ugh. I just don’t feel up to it. I usually love the celebratory part of birthdays. Gifts, flowers, cards, well wishes from loved ones. But this year, I just don’t feel like celebrating. I’m having a hard time looking through the muck of this funk to see what to celebrate. I know I’m being too hard on myself and measuring my life with a weighted scale, but it’s hard to see the forest for the trees and all that crap.

I just don’t feel different. Or that I’ve progressed that much. And yeah, I am thankful I’m not dead or more unhealthy than I am at present, but I’ve had a lot to deal with in the past month, and I just feel up to the brink.

And now I’m a whole year older, which makes a huge difference. Guys my age are already going for girls two or three years younger, one of my good friends met the love of his life, and she’s four years younger than him. She could barely drink when they started dating and was still in college. Now don’t get me wrong, she’s amazing and totally perfect for the bastard, but I’m not working with good odds anymore and that’s my point. Damn, I am really going to hate myself for all this in a few years. “Whaa, whaa, 29 is soooo old. I’m ‘starting’ to get wrinkles, poor me.” I do still have my looks so at least I have that going for me. Oh and my wits. I’m really one for the clever banter. Baa.

I think that I just hurt is all. I ache. In my stomach, in my head, even my teeth hurt. I know what it is. It's not just me, what the past year has been like, or how I feel I'm doing in my life at 29. The truth is, none of this is about me at all.

His time is running out. So fast. Where did all that time go? I dread the next few months. I don't want to be home for Christmas. I'm just not ready. I am not where I need to be yet because I still need him. I need his guidance and support and laughter. I need to be the person he wants me to be so that he sees that I'm alright. And so that I see that I'm alright and can go on without him. I don't know how to explain it except to say there's so much more I wanted to do before he goes away. He was supposed to walk me down the aisle. He was supposed to be the one who gave his consent to ask.

I know I'm doing ok. I know I make him proud. And I know he's had a long, happy life. Maybe that's also it. I want to live each day like I know they're running out. Not like it's my last, but like I know I have a limited time and I need to make the most of it. And just be scared less.

Every year it seems like we just learn how much we can take, how much we can survive, and every year I seem to make it somehow. So here’s to surviving the worst that 29 has to offer. Bring it on, bitch.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Raise Your Fists for More Than Pumping, Guido

Politicians are all the same really. That's what people say, right? I think they're only partly right - the system forces all politicians to act in the same ways. They learn how to float to the top. That's our capitalism for you. Do whatever you have to do to make a buck, to get a vote.

I've been reading a lot of documents from the early 1900's, and I learned that while our two major parties have changed their leanings slightly, they're really still the same. Because the system is still the same. Oh, and that promise to "fix" the system, to "change" the system? I'm sure that's as old as the system itself...which ironically was started to change the system. Hey, I'm really onto something here.

I watched Recount, the HBO movie about the 2000 election. Despite my mother's advice, who told me to "get over this politics thing," I watched it and learned. It's incredibly depressing how little power the people have in a system that purports, "Democracy gives the power to the people." What's fascinating to me, though, is that the people do have the power - the power to vote for the other candidate, the power to peaceably assemble in protest, the power to impact the economy by controlling the pocketbook, and the power to not give a damn. And that's really why the system isn't working. Sure, it has its problems, and it's not even close to perfect, but the people aren't working, and that's the real problem. People just don't care.

I swear, if I ever hear someone tell me again that they're a "fiscal conservative," I'm going to say something rude and possibly get into a street brawl. What a fancy way of saying, "I care more about big business and my stock portfolio than people." If you're a social liberal but a fiscal conservative, what you're really doing is choosing the "fiscal" over the "social." Ick. And I just can't stand that. I care most about people. The people are where it's at. And if they ever realize that, there'd be a lot of changes around here.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

The Groundhog Must Be Stopped

You know that feeling when you’re driving and it’s especially noisy outside, like when there’s a big crowd or bunch of motorcycles or a lot of loud traffic on the interstate, and you roll the window up, muffling what was just deafening noise? Or maybe it’s pouring down rain outside, torrential downpours, and someone opens the door and shuts it quickly, letting in the loud noise of the storm and smothering it just as fast? That’s how I feel right now. Like I’ve been muted, like I’m on mute, I’m muffled. That’s how I hear myself, and that’s how I think I’ve been existing for the past few days. Maybe I'm inside myself a little too much lately. I don't know.

But, God, I feel awful. I’m so exhausted of the same old, same old. You’re supposed to always find a way to weather whatever circumstances you’ve been given, but there’s something particularly difficult about the monotony of feeling like you’re reliving the same thing over and over. Oh wait, isn’t that a sign of insanity? Repeating the same thing and expecting the outcome to be different each time? I understand the writer of Groundhog Day now. Profoundly.

But Bill Murray, he made it through. Let's see...what did he do to survive? He tried to kill himself every day and robbed a bank a couple of times so I think I’ll go ahead and rule those out. He drank and cussed and ate everything in sight while insulting everyone he met. But no, that’s not really me no matter how rotten I feel. He learned new things. That was the cure, right? He learned how to play the piano, how to ice sculpt, how to care about other people instead of being so bitter and selfish all the time. So what the hell can I learn? How can I keep myself occupied and stimulated? I have no flipping clue. I do know that I have to figure out a way to turn this mute button off and break it altogether. I just gotta try something different.

Ice sculpting. Great. So that’s what’s in my future.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

She Give Me Love, Love, Love, Love - Crazy Love

There are a lot of fun songs about how wild love makes you feel. Aerosmith, of course,with "Crazy." There's "Love Her Madly" by The Doors. I really like “Laid.” I think it’s one of the greatest songs about crazy love. You’re making me crazy! When are you comin’ home?? Great line. Just a sidenote, but that song also has the greatest third line of any song ever. Think about it…yeah.

I think all the good boys and girls can agree that the all-time greatest crazy love song is (duh) “Crazy Love.” My all-time favorite Van Morrison song is “Tupelo Honey,” because, let’s face it, I am as sweet as tupelo honey. But “Crazy Love” is tough to beat. In fact, I'd definitely put it up in the top five greatest love songs of all time.

It’s a rare and beautiful thing when you find someone that you’re “crazy” about. That makes you wanna do crazy things, makes you feel like you’re losing your mind, someone that you think about incessantly because that’s just how crazy-wild that love is.

Whenever people tell me that I’m gonna find someone, I smile and thank them. It’s something people say, and you let them. It’s really nice actually. Like they’re saying they want all good things for you and believe because you deserve it, it will happen. But a couple of times when someone has said that to me, they’ve told me they know that when it happens for me, it’ll be “big love.” Knock-me-off-of-my-feet, take-your-breath-away big love. Thank you, I’ll take that.

I want crazy love. I want the first week to last for all of time, and I want to feel invincible. I want someone to say, “Yes, of course” when I suggest driving to the beach to see the sunrise…even if it’s six hours away. I want surprises. I want to know that even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, it’s the only thing that makes sense to us. I want butterflies and giddy grins and hands that can’t stop groping and feeling. Aw. I’m such a sap.

But seriously. Shouldn’t love be that way? I think there’s something wrong when it isn’t. For me, anyway, I know that if I don't feel it in every part of me, if there's no passion or fever, it's not working. It’s one of the ways that I can tell instantly whether something’s gonna work out with a guy. Does it register on the crazy meter? If not, I might still date him, hoping it will change or fooling myself into thinking it doesn’t matter, but in the end, crazy is where it’s at for this one.

I love watching my friends find love. There is nothing more wonderful to me than to see such special people find happiness. And they all have done some crazy wild things for that love. Love has no rules, as I always say, but there are some that most people agree on and when those are broken, crazy love is the culprit.

I’ve seen quite a few long distance relationships with happy endings. As a matter of fact, the majority of my married friends had a portion of the relationship that was long distance. Random. One of those was especially crazy. They met for dinner once (he’s the cousin of a friend), and then spent a month together. Just hanging out all day, makin’ out, learning each other. Then she moved to Florida. He lived in Vermont, and after a few months of phone calls, moved down there with her. And they just hung out. Worked at restaurants, went to the beach, had a blast. Then they move again. She to Tennessee and then DC, him back to Vermont…and then to DC. Cuz he couldn’t get enough of that crazy love.

Another friend met a guy, fell for him instantly, and by the third date (THIRD!), they both agreed they were soulmates. A little spooky for me, but yay for them. My cousin met her husband at a happy hour. He told his friend she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and the friend told her. He fell so hard for her that he started calling her all the damn time and scared her off. She starts ignoring his calls, and finally he gets the hint. Until he sees her 3 months later and recognizes “his blond.” They talk and end up finally going out on a dinner date. Where he gives her the cork to the wine bottle they shared, writes the date on it and tells her to save it because he’s gonna marry her one day.

Ooo one girl I knew in New York was a total urban legend. She met a guy at a dance club, brought him home, had wild one night stand sex and then dude got on a plane and flew back to London where he lived! Less than a year later, she moved there too and now they’re married. Wha-huh?

You know what I just realized? In all of those stories I just shared, one or both of the people involved knew instantly that they’d found their soulmate. I can get spooked and am so careful with my heart I could never admit it if I thought a guy was the one, but it is nice when a guy thinks I am. It's safe at least. Though anyone who has said something like that to me, I've said "Thanks." and then been right when it didn't work out.

These are just a few of my favorites, but every love story is good. My story will be great. Sonnets will be written about it, birds will spell out words in the sky and flowers will bend towards us. Haha. I know what you’re thinking: This girl’s a little bit crazy. Yes. But don’t you think that means I’m perfectly predisposed for some major crazy love? Or at the very least, some damn fun rides.

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