Valentine's Fray

Another year in the trenches. Alas. Or is it?

I always find when Valentine's Day comes around it's a toss-up. Do I let my bitter feelings take over and create a cynical day? Or am I ambivalent? I mean I must confess, when the pastor prayed for single people in church on Sunday I swear I felt a follow-spot on me. And I am bummed that, once again, I am spending the day with two felines and a bottle of Chianti. I also know that no girl really thinks any holiday is stupid where she might receive something shiny, so I might as well give up my cavalier charade. But this year, I have a solution. I am shifting my focus from the kind love I do not have to the kind of love that I do.

I have a wonderful family. I am 24 and my mom still sends me a Valentine's Day card. My sister is the smartest person in the world and asks my advice on where she should spend Spring Break. My dad always makes me laugh. My cousin is cooler than I am and sometimes it rubs off. It doesn't matter when or why I call, they just like to hear from me, and vice versa.

I also have two reallllllyyyy adorable felines who, in spite of the stigma attached to their species, really do love me. And they always know when I need them for a good cuddle. I am fully aware that these tender moments are breaks in between their assassination and world domination plots, but hey, I'll take it.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I have the best friends ever. Like real, in your face, tell it like it is but love you anyway friends. I have people I can call when my car breaks down and I need a ride, or I happen to have one hour free and they are just as delighted as I am to spend it together. Friends who do my hair even when they know I am just using outward solutions to cope with inner problems. Friends who don't frown upon me when I cave and eat cheese. Friends who, no matter what, find a way to say both what I want and need to hear at the same time.

With that kind of love in my life, it becomes difficult to really think I am missing anything. I may be single, but I am not alone. And that is the greatest Valentine's Day gift of all. Spread some love to everyone in your life today....unlike oil, it is a renewable and sustainable resource.

Things I Have Realized (or Admitted to Myself)

Hellooooo Readers!

Happy Monday! You will be pleased to know I have absolutely nothing exciting to report from this weekend since I spent it recovering and rehearsing. So, a Monday post after a weekend of reflection. Enjoy!

-Ask and You Shall Receive

This guy I know, Jesus, said this about 2000 years ago. Fortunately I have finally joined the party train. People are not crystal balls. In fact, we are all so self-centered that when things don't go our way we tend to blame someone else for being out to intentionally piss us off. This is, however, not the case. I realize that if I want something, all I have to do is ask. I don't have to jump through hoops (or offer to do so), I don't have to will it to happen, I don't have to manipulate (well, at least in most cases), all I do is ask. No one knows what you want until you ask for it.

-Everyone Has A Story

It is so easy to get mad at the person driving too slowly in front of you, or to silently curse out the person in the express line at Whole Foods with 16 instead of 15 items (roar). But I have recently realized that those people are trying to get somewhere too. We are all trying to do what we can to get through the line at the grocery store. The person going slowly is NOT trying to make you upset (in theory, even though this always happens when you're running late), they are probably looking for a house they cannot find so they can pick up a child, or meet with someone really important. We have no concept of what other people go through. Therefore, I attempt to spend my time trying to spread patience and calmness regardless of the situation. Does this cause heartache when someone actually is blatantly trying to be a poopface? Oooooohhhhhh yes. And we must not forget that in our efforts to remember people's stories, frustration and flat-out anger are allowed to felt, vented, and experienced. But, ultimately, that poopface has a story too. And sometimes we are the poopfaces! What are ya gonna do?

-I Need to (Consistently) Give Up Cheese

I am a vegan in progress. It's hard to give up cheese! But I have definitely noticed a difference in my physique. Now if only I could remember that when a beautiful pizza comes my way.

-Running is Amazing.

And the most painful. But I have to say that every time I run at the gym (at least a mile a day), I break a super sweat, I feel my muscles come alive, and I can actually track my progress through endurance, speed, and soreness level. It is so rewarding to run outside and not be almost throwing up after a winter on the elliptical, even if I haven't been able to walk without agony in weeks.

-It's Ok to Be A Work in Progress

In life, there is ALWAYS room for improvement and growth. It is perfectly natural to grow and learn as life comes at you, as long as you strive to be the better for it.

-It's Ok To Skip A Workout and Go to Happy Hour Instead

You can work off a drink and some apps, but you can't replace the value of a good conversation with good company. Although if you're like me and bear midriff, it doesn't hurt to do a superset of abs before you go.

-It's Ok to Be Bummed Sometimes

I try and keep a positive outlook but sometimes I just need to shake my fists and the sky and go "Whyyyyyyyyy!!??" I just try to experience those feelings while keeping the positive things close to my heart and my energy (aka I spoon with my cats).

-The Alcohol in Wine Kills Germs

When I am sick I drink water and wine. It was good enough for my aforementioned homie Jesus, it's good enough for me. And I swear it gets me better faster. What it does for my blogging, well you'll have to tell me.

-What Wine Doesn't Cure, Coconut Water Will

My roommate got me onto coconut water and I am not even kidding you when I say it cures EVERYTHING from hangovers to sore muscles. It has a lot of potassium and many other nutrients. The taste definitely takes some getting used to, but it is worth it for sure.

-No Matter How Old I Am, I Still Need My Parents

My mom is still the first person I call about everything. My dad is still the best and tallest man on earth (keep your Electra comments to yourselves haters). And, like this past weekend, I was sick and all I wanted was my mom to take care of me and my dad to make me cream of wheat. They say you can't go home again, but I know I always can (even though my parents are legit crazy).

-Mondays Are Mean

Hey, I said things I realize not epic epiphany. Obviously I have known this fact for a loooooong time. Good luck with the weekly grind people. Keep fighting the good fight!

Fear(?) of Freedom

Hey All!

It has been quite awhile, but you will be excited to know that, once again, I am living singularly (and convinced Google to let me log in to this blog). This time, my adventures are joined not only by my cats but by roommates and a new job location! So, what to post about in my first post in over a year? How about an existential crisis?

So here's what happens. You finally get your act together.

Recently, everything I ever wanted in life actually happened. I got an amazing full-time gig in the big city. It requires me to take public transportation, walk to work, and wear kick ass boots and headwear every day on my two block jaunt to my employer. So diesel. Not to mention, the job is so amazing because at the time it happened I had already committed to playing a spring musical, my absolute passion, and they are flexible with my schedule and let me work when I can so I can make it to all of my various things. I am in school and plugging away at my very interesting thesis and still doing my part-time super fulfilling music gig. Epic.

Also, at least for a hot second, I had THE guy. The greatest guy. The guy we see in Disney movies. Yet, as is typical, things change, and things ended.

So now, things aren't "perfect." Or are they?

I find that often, when everything in my life is "as it should be," I am afraid that something will go wrong. I spend hours trying to stave off my negative fears and eventually, because life is what it is, something goes wrong. My problem is that when this happens, I neglect to pay attention to the amazing things in my life.

I went through the completely necessary various stages of breakupdom for the 39865287th time. My friends and myself said all the right "Ugh, boys" things, and I certainly acknowledge at least a modicum of sadness at the end of the relationship.

But, I ultimately realized something: I have fulfillment in my life. Though it is a super goal of mine to eventually find myself in the ideal marital situation, I have so many fantastic things in my life that I really can't spend time worrying about what may or may not be missing. I just can't. I love my music, I love my work, and I love my peeps. Can it get better than that?

I think that my fear of freedom is actually fear of acknowledgement. Fear of acknowledging that no matter what, nothing is REALLY missing in my life. There is just room to add more beauty and excitement. I would like to substitute the word "Fear" for "Acceptance." Acceptance of the fact that I have been free to make the choices I have made and to be the person I am, and acceptance of the possibility of how I can learn and grow in the future to come. Just because I haven't achieved all my goals yet doesn't mean I don't still have it all.

For now, I will leave you with that. Don't worry, the next post will be way more funny and sardonic. Happy Hump Day!

Girl-Crushes: Happy Endings and How-To's

Have you ever met someone and realized the moment you said "Hello," that that person is the one? The next candidate in your line of People I Need to Hang Out With? I have. Many times. As I navigate the dating realm it has come to my attention that oftentimes I am not only dating boys, but courting new friends that are girls. This phenomenon is known in feminine terms as a "Girl-Crush" or "Friend-Crush," or a "Bro-mance" for the males. As difficult as dating the opposite sex is, sometimes it can be even more crazy to try and "date" a new friend.

Case in point:

When I was in college I "knew" two girls. Both were friends of friends and/or involved with my program and both were super cool. Though I knew somehow we were destined to be friends, I couldn't quite find my "in." So I admired their coolness from afar and waited patiently for circumstances, or kismet, to bring us together.

After a while it finally happened. One of my girl-crushes had need of a pianist. A mutual friend hooked us up, and we lived happily ever after (no really though, we eventually became roommates and now we're neighbors).

The other crush took a bit longer to develop. Fortunately, we shared a friend group. Over time, our mutual capabilities for decision-making (good and questionable), race-horse tolerance levels, and our penchants for being the subjects of embarrassing occurrences that are relived every time our friends reunite have brought us together. We, too, have lived happily ever after and I have openly proclaimed the fact that I like her more every time we hang out.

Both instances required patience, well-placed witty comments, interests in common, and of course, chemistry.

Now, as my circle expands post-college, I realize that trying to make new friends is even harder! A lot of people already have a "crew," so to speak at this point in life. So what to do if your girl-crush does not need a pianist or you do not share a friend group? I give you: A Small Guide to Friend-Dating aka How Not To Crush Your Girl-Crush.

Step 1: Befriend on Facebook
--This can be an important "first move." It is fairly innocuous, and it gives your potential BFF the opportunity to read your witty "About Me" and your obviously similar interests without coming on too strong. If the person does not have Facebook, well...can you really be friends then?
[JUST KIDDING...Facebook is merely one of many vehicles through which one can merge onto the Highway of Friendship]

Another point along the lines of this subject: you will be tempted to write on this person's wall. Unless some hilarious event occurred where you first met, or you have a pertinent link to post that has to do with a conversation you had, you must avoid this tendency at all costs. You don't want to seem creepy. I say this because the other day I literally went to do this exact thing, and found myself stressing over the perfect thing to say. After starting and restarting several times I realized that the best tactic was just not to say anything at this point. The safest way of establishing contact after you friend them? "Like" their status, then perhaps insert a comment.

Step 2: The Hangout
--Sometimes fate places the golden opportunity in your path. For instance, if you discover you both like the same TV show. This is the perfect time to throw in a little "Hey, what are doing for the show on [insert day here]?" Primetime is the best time to develop friendships. It provides an avenue for conversation during commercials or commenting on plot developments, but leaves room to breathe while the show is going on so neither one of you feels you must talk the whole time. This is also true for the gym. Inviting someone to Pilates class? A+.

Another way to initiate a "hangout" is to ask the person out for coffee or happy hour. These times of day are simultaneously time-limited and open-ended. If you both have somewhere to be, you can safely leave after an hour and a half or so. If you both have free time it could blossom into an afternoon at the mall or dinner with your happy hour beverages. At the very least, if things go well it will lead to Date #2.

Step 3: The "Secret" of Success
--If there's one thing I've learned it is this: the ultimate way to build a friendship is to share a secret [NOTE: I discourage this tactic with anyone in the Witness Protection Program]. If you share a secret with someone you are not only letting them learn something about you, but you implicitly give them your trust.

Now, do I recommend that you share your deepest, darkest secret? No. Sharing something too deep too soon can imply and/or reveal boundary issues. Keep the secret sharing to the skeletons closest to the front of the closet, such as "Sometimes I forget to wipe down the elliptical after I use it at the gym," or "I read all four Twilight books in a day." Save the juicy stuff for down the line when you're out for a crazy night in Vegas (you're going to be BFF's right?).

In conclusion, when friend-dating I encourage you, as in any kind of new relationship, to take it slow. Friendships, like relationships, are built over time. And if you haven't had enough of the cliche's in this conclusion, always remember to just be yourself. That's where the good stuff is.

Go out, make a friend, and have a great Tuesday!

How Hamlet Starts My Weekend.

I think almost every other blog I follow posted today, so obviously I cannot be left behind in the pre-weekend dust. So a short, pre-happy hour Friday night post inspired by Hamlet.

There is a line in Shakespeare's Hamlet that goes like this:

"...for there is nothing either good or
bad, but thinking makes it so..." Act II, scene 2, lines 250-251.

This is one of my favorite Shakespeare quotes ever. Nothing is good or bad, it is what we think of it that makes it so. For instance, I see a McDonald's cheeseburger and I hear the theme from Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho" in my mind, whereas another person says "Oooo yay! I hope that's on the Dollar Menu!" Anyway, though the melancholy Dane did have some decision-making and Oedipal issues, among others, he was definitely on to something here.

The other day I was hanging out with a friend of mine who told me she thought my apartment was cute, but delightfully average. This ruffled my proverbial feathers. I love that apartment and everything in it (except the bills). I even got throw pillows to warm up the space, I mean really...there's only so much I can do. But then I started thinking.

It's not that my friend did not like the apartment, it's just that it is not what SHE would want in an apartment. "Delightfully average" is just the way she thinks of it in comparison to her own expectations, desires, etc. And that's alright because I think it is a breath of fresh real estate and exactly what I need.

As I proceed into my weekend, I realize that I might meet some people who think my outfit is delightfully average (I, in turn, will realize that these people have personalities that I find delightfully below average hehe), but it does not matter because ultimately, everyone has friends (or a cat) who think they are just great. No one is really average, below average, or delightful....only thinking makes it so. :)

So on your various adventures this weekend I encourage you to remember that no matter what you think is bad, someone can find something good about it; no one's opinion is the be-all-end-all. A good time will always be had in the presence of good company (and good wine [at least I "think so"]), no matter what anyone thinks.

I leave you with this: No matter what "thinking makes so," a weekend is pretty much always a good thing. But if you end up using Hamlet to justify a weekend-esque decision, you didn't see it here. Have a good one! :)

When In Phone...

Who talks on the phone anymore these days? With the advent of texting, e-mailing, mass facebook messaging, etc. the art of a phone conversation (and perhaps artfully crafted smoke signals, no offense Vatican) has been lost. So the other day when my friend told me she talked to the guy she is seeing for 13 minutes on the phone and they don't text in between dates...I was shocked! And then I was shocked that I was shocked! I mean, the only person I really talk to on the phone for longer than 35 seconds is my mother, who is epically technologically inept. Most of the other people in my life I either text, facebook, or see on a regular basis. It is crazy to think that calling someone used to be the primary mode of communication.

Think about it. If you text someone, you immediately give them an opportunity to take their time responding to you. A text says "It's not immediate that I speak to you, but when you have a chance..". An e-mail does the same thing except it expands the time-frame exponentially. If you respond to a text within 12 hours, that's good. If you respond to an e-mail within 12 days, if at all, that's fine. But if you don't CALL someone back, particularly if they leave a voicemail, you are most definitely purposely ignoring them.

On top of this, talking to someone on the phone, face to face as it were, leaves no room to think about what you're going to say. You have to be on the spot. You can't be like "Let me call you back when I think of a witty response." Meanwhile, how many of us have been texting with someone while hanging out with friends and said "What should I say back??" Then the friends play Cyrano de Bergerac and we all get some witty or brilliant response ideas. E-mail? Even better! You can read the entire thing and respond to each section in sequence!

As I continued to talk to my friend about her relational progression with this boy who does not text she told me she actually found it liberating to be on "the slow train." She said there is no pressure to be in contact or not, and when they do talk it is always good conversation. I mean, 13 minutes is way long enough to talk about how your days were, how your weeks were, and to get into legitimate subject matter.

It struck me that in general, when we like someone, we begin texting, we hang out, we text...we are in constant contact with the person. And the instant they begin to have less contact with us, we see it as rejection. In the case of my friend, I'd venture to say she may be onto something here.

Another friend of mine recently consolidated her cell phone plan and eliminated texting. The first 3 days of this were torture for me. In fact I believe I told her that her textual liberation was my prison. But as I adapt to the adjustment, I realize it is actually kind of nice. And it is certainly easier and more interesting to debrief about a weekend while talking instead of arthritically texting long sagas.

I draw three conclusions from this discussion:

Number 1:
By eliminating "talk-time" we also get closer to eliminating the risk of sounding stupid. Case in point: cute boy calls me. Conversation goes like this:

Boy: Hey what's up?
Me: Good, how are you? I mean nothing nothing....you??
[in my mind: IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT]

If this were a text however, I would have had time to think. And respond with something terribly clever.

Number 2:
The idea of talking on the phone is not so outlandish...it is the idea of being able to CALL someone whenever you want that is intimidating. If you talk to someone on the phone regularly, it means that you can both call each other whenever. Many friendships do not function this way so much anymore. This does not mean that people are any less friends because they don't talk on the phone for hours, it is just a different type of relationship than we have seen in times past. Not to mention, where would we be without www.textsfromlastnight.com?

Number 3:
The thing is, especially in the United States, we are anti-taking-our-time. To spend time on the phone means we have to be involved in the conversation, we need to be focused on someone other than ourselves. Weird?

In conclusion, don't get me wrong. I'm pretty sure I will text until my thumbs fall off, or until they come up with some new-fangled device that renders text-messaging obsolete. And by no means do I think that texting or emailing are illegitimate or impersonal. They are, in fact, my primary means of communication. It is more that lately I have been thinking the pace of my life is so darn fast. To take the time to call someone and just talk as opposed to "dropping a line," is almost as liberating as walking slowly in killer heels (see "Stilettos: A Weekend Debriefing Story). Not to mention it is nice to hear people laugh at my hilarious jokes instead of just reading "lol,".........

Have a great week everyone! :)

Stilettos--A Weekend Debriefing Story

This past weekend was one of the best I have ever had. Full of music, friends, food, dancing, and most importantly--kick-ass shoes (excuse my French, but if the shoe fits..). I have recently had the privilege of discovering my dormant desire to wear high heels. Of course there are the usual benefits of making your legs look longer, dressing up an outfit, giving you some swagger if you will, but I propose there are some other more philosophical pro's in wearing killer shoes.

I have always been self-conscious about my height. I'm not freakishly tall, but the average height of many of my friends is circa 5' 4", so my towering 5' 7" is quite prominent in my mind. But recently I have felt that by only wearing flats, some of my confidence was going flat as well. I needed to shake things up, so this weekend, I decided to own my inner stiletto.

I began the weekend sauntering onto a stage in these fantastic 4"-heeled booties to perform Brahms at the Fine Arts Festival (the homecoming weekend concert at my alma mater). The perk? I walked tall, did not fall, and the performance went decently well (let's face it though..even if it didn't the shoes would have been awesome regardless). The not-so-perk? My leg was almost too high to fit under the piano to pedal...don't worry I made it work. After the performance I swapped out the 4" booties for some 3" cuties (oyster colored...LOVE), and went to a local place with live music where I danced for a long while. The perk? My jeans fit perfectly over the shoes and I was out with two gentlemen of the tall variety. The not-so-perk? My feet were KILLING me by the end of the night...literally! I almost died on the way to the car.

The next day, a little the worse for the wearing, I proceeded to have a lovely brunch with some of my girlfriends from school...and of course I chose to re-rock the oyster stilettos, because they really dress up my staple weekend-chill-cardigan-ensemble. So my friends and I talked, stalked (via Facebook), ate, and laughed. I spent the afternoon with another one of my college buds, my sister, and cleaning my insanely messy apartment. Saturday night I met back up with my brunch peeps rocking some heeled boots with skinny jeans and a sweet sweater. We did our dance thing and ended the night with the most amazing pizza EVER (is there any pizza that isn't amazing at 2am? I mean really). If there is anything more amazing than strutting around in heels and dancing with the most amazing friends ever I demand to know about it.

Sunday I admit I wore flats. My feet were totally shot. But all was not lost because, as if the weekend could get better, I babysat the kids I work for overnight Sunday-Monday so the parents could get away for their anniversary and made back all the moola I spent over the weekend. SWEET.

So how does all this relate to my shoes?

The word "stiletto" comes from the Latin word "stylus" which is a pin or stalk. It is also a medieval dagger used for stabbing, but for the sake of this post, let's stick with the former. Either way, a stiletto is sharp. And by wearing them this past weekend I gained a few things. One is being in complete awe of Kelly Ripa and Sarah Jessica Parker who live in stilettos. Another is a KILLER workout for your calves, hamstrings, and gluts (which are still recovering). The last is that sometimes to keep our brains sharp we need to shake up our balance. While some might find a more drastic way of doing this, I found a way simply by changing up my footwear.

When I wear stilettos, my consciousness of my height is completely acknowledged yet simultaneously dismissed. I am no longer self-conscious, but self-aware. I am more in tune with my body because I have to keep my balance, and I am more in tune with everything else because I have to TAKE MY TIME when walking or climbing stairs. Rather than just rushing through everything as I am prone to do, heels give me cause for pause, and I am digging the slower pace. Regardless, if I DO try to hurry while wearing stilettos I face certain death.

This weekend I wore sharp (literally and figuratively) shoes, was surrounded by sharp and sweet company, and the Brahms piece I played has a whole section in B Major (5 sharps!). It is safe to say that by sharpening my footwear (and being fortunate enough to have my best friends in town for the weekend) I have found a way to get some zest back into my routine. The thing is, sometimes the shoes make the outfit. But more often than not it is you who makes the shoe. If you put on something that makes you feel good and confident, it can totally change the course of your day; even if it does make you feel that some doorways should have a sign saying "Clearance 6' 4"" so you know to duck.

Thanks to my ladies, gents, and shoes for a fabulous weekend..have a good week everyone!