I'm generally kind. I'm usually politically correct. I'm often thought of as reserved.
But this is a look at the inner recesses of my complex mind. I won't hold back on this blog. Because as someone once told me, blogs are virtual graffiti, and no one ever said that graffiti has to be proper or right. So I'm embracing that insult. Enjoy the wild view.
I wrote this poem in August, at the height of the wicked summer here in the Phoenix metropolis. Not sure why I haven't published it yet...but here ya go.
Heat waves rise off the pavement,
Making the city shimmer around me.
It's not a beautiful haziness, though.
It's tired. It's worn-out. It's uncomfortable.
It's the metropolis in the Arizonan desert.
It's unbearable.
It's the summer.
The night brings no reprieve.
No relief.
The monsoon brings dust.
Rarely rain.
The grass dies.
The heat kills what once lived.
But that's summer.
Three years. It's a long dry spell
My loveless love life shimmers around me
No love to be found. Just a mirage.
I'm tired. I'm worn-out. I'm uncomfortable.
I'm alone in a metropolis filled with summer lovers.
It's unbearable.
It's embarrassing.
The night brings lonely dreams.
No relief.
Each day brings numbness.
Am I sane?
The flame dies.
Life kills the hope that lived.
It's like summer.
The title for this post comes from this song:
Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer
I had a moment of legitimate panic the other night. I was genuinely afraid that I was going to die in my sleep. I was afraid to close my eyes. I was afraid that I might not ever open them again. I couldn't breathe and my heart was fluttering madly and I sat upright in my bed instead of lying down, because I thought it would be over if I lay down and closed my eyes.
I have never been afraid of death. I've never given it much thought, actually. I know it's a part of life and that we will all die someday, somehow. I believe that when I die, there is a heaven. So why was I so scared that I might die that night?
I've been thinking about it and analyzing myself...
My music is still inside me, I think. I have a lot to offer, and I am not offering it to anyone, any cause, any person, any career, etc. I haven't done anything that I want to yet. For some reason, I keep thinking that sometime, somewhere down the road, I will live out my dreams and accomplish all that I desire, all that I am capable of. But I am not doing anything today to make those dreams happen. And I think that a big part of the fear and panic I felt was connected to this.
Another reason I was afraid is that I realized with sudden acute awareness that if I were to die, no one would find me or realize anything was wrong. My roommate and I have different schedules, and we rarely see each other, even though we share a room. On a typical day, I wake up and leave for work before she wakes up, and I am asleep by the time she gets home and goes to bed. So if I had died in my bed, she probably would have thought I was just taking a sick day, and when she got home that night, she would have thought that I was asleep just like normal. After a few days of this, she would probably realize something was wrong, probably due to my rotting corpse. But I don't think she'd notice right away, and that really scared me, that I don't have anyone in my life to sort of...keep an eye on me. I don't have a boyfriend, or a husband, who is concerned about me and my well-being. And while that may sound old-fashioned, and while some of you may argue that a best friend can check up on you just as well as a boyfriend or husband could, I finally awoke to the realization that I DO NOT WANT TO BE SINGLE ANYMORE.
This was a news flash to me. I've been single for three years now. And I've learned to love it and embrace it and I've become numb and I've trained myself to ignore the loneliness of it. I'm fine, really!
But that night, I realized that deep down, I want a man who loves me, who watches out for me, who wants what's best for me, and with whom I can build a life, woven together in love, laughter, friendship, and trust. I want someone to come home to every night, someone to talk about my day with, someone to make dinner for, someone who will sample my new recipes, someone who I can watch out for and serve and love with my whole heart. I want a family. Starting with a wonderful husband.
"I'm too young to die," I remember thinking that night, knowing, even as I thought the words, how cliche I was being. But I haven't experienced very much, especially in the realm of love, and I want that before I leave this life. Although it may not happen, I want it. I also want to do things, accomplish goals, make something of myself, become better, smarter, kinder, more loving, more serviceable, and more friendly and Christlike before I leave this life.
"It's just too much to never wake up..." and realize in the afterlife that I wasted my time on earth. I need to make the life I want, instead of waiting for life to happen.
The title of this post came from this song:
Wait, Wait, Wait by the Format
This blog is so all over the place. It's driving me NUTS. But I'm already in several posts too deep. So it will probably continue in the same eclectic and chaotic way for a while. At least until I can make sense of what's going on in my brain. Folks, here's a newsflash: IT'S A MESS UP THERE! My brain is all sorts of crazy right now. I have no clue why, but I have been pretty uneasy lately. Stressed. Unfocused. Unmotivated. Oh wow. Sounds like depression or anxiety or something that I probably need to see a therapist for. But that's a post for another day. Let me just apologize for the chaotic nature of this blog before I move on to today's post. DEAR THE INTERNET, I'M SORRY FOR THIS CRAPPY LITTLE CRAZY CORNER THAT I'VE CLUTTERED WITH RANDOMNESS AND POINTLESS RAMBLINGS. Please enjoy today's post.
Topic: Not Being In Love or Married
I'm going to direct this post to the ladies, but perhaps it can apply to the guys as well. Have you ever been at a point in your life where you're not really interested in anyone, no one seems to be interested in you, and you couldn't be more content? You don't care about dating, finding your match, or getting married? This sounds a little crazy, since, by nature, we humans feel the need and experience a drive to connect and form partnerships, often monogamous ones. So why do we have these stretches of time when that drive seems to vanish and we're content to hang out alone (or sometimes with friends), watch our shows on Netflix, and just, be? I have a theory, the internet. A theory of my own making, not validated by science or research, but just based on my own personal life experience.
I think that we have these periods of content due to 4 reasons.
1. The internet and our many technological devices satisfy us. We don't need to have a conversation. We'll just play a game on our phone. We don't need to go on a date. We'll just watch "Dirty Dancing" one more time on Netflix and live vicariously through Baby and Johnny. We don't need to put on our makeup and wear our nice clothes and seek out connection and companionship. We'll spend hours on Pinterest and Polyvore making and saving the ideal outfits, hairdos, and makeup ideas, and check Facebook to feel connected. You see, the internet provides artificial substitutes for the real thing. We don't need a boyfriend when we've got the internet. We don't need a date when we've got the internet, our phones, our tablets, our computers.
2. There's a lot going on in our lives. Our waking hours are stretched so thin, that we can't even think of adding one more thing. We have work, school, clubs, volunteer opportunities, church activities, family obligations, second jobs, housework, social outings, girls' nights, errands, exercise, and countless other duties. There's rarely enough time to get all the things done that you want to, so how can we add another element into the mix? We're barely scraping by doing all the things we already do, so we're not actively looking to add more to our plates. Our busy lives distract us. They can numb the need to be with a man, if we're not careful.
3. We haven't met anyone who makes us want to give up the single life. We know that marriage is something we want at some point down the road, but so far, there's not been anyone in our lives that makes us feel ready to give up the single life and all its many perks. Perks? Perks, you ask? What are the perks of being single? Let me make a list for you (since we all know how much I love making lists):
Your time is your own to do whatever you'd like
Your money is your own to spend however you'd like
You don't have to worry too much about others
You can do pretty much whatever you want, whenever you want. Oh, so you had a late night with your girlfriends and you couldn't stop talking, and now it's 2:30 in the morning and you're craving bacon? Great. Let's go to IHOP. You're not cuddling with your significant other in a peaceful sleep, so you may as well.
Basically, being single means you get to be a little bit selfish. You are concerned a bit about your friends, but you don't have to be their emergency contact or anything. You want what's best for them, but you're not in charge of making them a nutritious breakfast every morning and making sure they get their 8 hours of sleep. You know what I'm saying?
But the thing is, when you meet someone who's a good match for you, you will gladly surrender your time, your money, your carefree attitude, because you will want to make life better for this person. It won't feel like a burden to make them dinner. It won't feel taxing to help them run errands. It won't be restricting to stay in and cuddle rather than go out and party. When you meet the right person for you, the pros of a single life seem to lose their importance, and the cons of being single will magnify themselves (i.e. sleeping alone, eating alone, going shopping alone, taking walks alone), thus making you want to give up the single life and give it up GLADLY.
4. We feel young and think we have lots of time to find someone. And to be honest, we probably DO have a lot of time to find someone. We're not in a hurry, because we view the future as vast and filled with opportunity. We can play, get caught up in all of our activities, be a little unconcerned about love and marriage, because we've go eons to figure out that piece. Right? Well...a little bit wrong. Time is precious. We don't know how much of it we've got. We don't know whose lives we'll touch in the limited amount of time we spend here on this earth. This kind of thinking can get us into trouble, because we'll keep putting off the things that will bring us great happiness and then before we know it, it will all be gone.
Sorry to get a little deep and preachy there. But I've been examining my own little life, which is devoid of the drive to date and get married. I watched my favorite Bollywood movie the other night, "Kal Ho Naa Ho," which, translated, means "Tomorrow may not come." The whole movie is about love, opening your heart to love, and loving without reservation, because you may not be able to love that person or people tomorrow. You or they may be gone. It's a beautiful and sad and wonderful film.
And I realized that I am not living a full life. I keep thinking that things will happen for me in the future, so I make myself content by filling my life with things and activities, and numbing the drive to be with a good man by immersing myself in the internet, Netflix, and group activities. Stepping back, my life looks meaningless and silly. I'm not accomplishing anything, even. If I'm not married or dating, I may as well get more education, become successful in the corporate/professional world, or something like that, right? But no. I'm in the mood to play and be selfish and do what I want, with no thought for anyone else or for the future that I ultimately want. Kal ho naa ho. I need to remember that and start living each day like it is my last. I think it will be much more fulfilling, don't you?
The title from this post comes from this song:
Kal Ho Naa Ho from the movie, Kal Ho Naa Ho
I just came away from a water cooler conversation that would make you cringe.
It. Was. Just. So. Awkward.
But to be fair, every conversation I've ever had with this guy is cringe-inducing.
He's the relatively new guy at my office, but he's been here since August. Ah, the classic office crush, right? He's tall, dark, and handsome. And funny. How do I know he's funny? Well he brought THIS to the office White Elephant party in December (I know, I know. Ladies, feast your eyes!):
It's a framed photograph of him (he's the one on the left), his two roommates, and their dog. Fun fact: the guy in the middle works with us, too (Thank the good Lord above for blessing my working life with attractive men). And they signed the photograph. Look at them in all their attractive glory! Look how cute their signatures are, with the hearts and the "xoxo." This is just classic, good-natured prankster.
So of course, when I get anywhere near this near-perfect human speciman, I turn into a total IDIOT. No. Really.
I used the words, "evil deception" today in our conversation. EVIL DECEPTION???? How did those words make their way from my brain to my mouth into a conversation about COOKIES???? No. I'm not kidding. We talked about cookies that look tasty but are actually disgusting to eat. And I laughed and said, "Ugh, that's just EVIL DECEPTION."
Yeah. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???
I am a better conversationalist than this. No! I really am! But every. single. time I get around this guy, I forget that I'm an intelligent individual who could talk fluently about things like action potentials and brain chemicals, or who won an Oscar, or what's good in indie music right now, or how to make the perfect meringue, or the conspiracy theory surrounding Monsanto, or how to Feng Shui, or something perfectly simple, like, "How was your weekend?" Nope. None of that. I stutter, I stumble around, I gape silently, and then I say something like, "evil deception." *Facepalm*
God forbid that I act normal and say normal things around this heartthrob of a man. It's not enough that I'm overweight and working in a dead-end job. No. I also have to look like a loser who can't talk. He probably was wondering how I do my job at all, since I work at the front desk and answer phones and talk to people all day.
ASK ANY ONE OF THEM! I CAN TALK! I KNOW THINGS!
It's just sad, that this is what my life is: begging the internet (in lieu of my actual coworker) to perceive me as normal.
But I promise...I am! It's just that he's so incredibly attractive that I can't focus on anything else. And I'm pretty sure we have all been THERE before. ...Right?
The title for this post comes from this song:
Stuttering by The Friday Night Boys
My sister tried to set me up once. It didn't really work out because the kid she had in mind was SERIOUSLY a kid - a couple years younger than me, a couple inches shorter than me, at least 75 pounds lighter than me (he was scrawny!!!), and just not interested at all. And upon meeting him, I realized that he was too hip for me and completely not my type. I could never be myself. My real self isn't cool enough for him. I'd spend my whole life being a pretentious little punk if things had managed to work out somehow. Thank heavens they didn't.
Anyways, we had a few interactions - enough to warrant us becoming friends on Instagram, Facebook, that sort of thing - and then, that was it. He moved up to finish school at BYU and I stayed here, free from the whimsy of the hipster lifestyle. I didn't think anything of it. It was such a brief introduction and interaction, it made almost no impact on me, as horrible as that sounds.
Well. Because life at BYU is a predictable sort of thing, this kid found a girl, got engaged, and was married not too long after he went back to BYU. And all over his social media, he uses the hashtag: #whilebeinginlove. Seriously all the time. And I guess it's kind of cute. I mean, I'm glad they're in love! They really are a super cute couple and I think they are perfect for one another. Truly!
But I'm also a kind of cynical individual, and there's a mean part of me that can't wait for the day he stops using the hashtag every. single. time. he posts a pic with his girl. Does that mean they won't be in love anymore? Will their marriage be okay? Will he one day just finally get tired of adding the hashtag to every thing he ever posts? Or is this going to be a lifelong union between him and his hashtag?
Like, when I'm 45, and if our social media is still around, will he still be using the same hashtag?Technology changes so quickly that I feel almost certain that Instagram will be obsolete in the next 20 years...but it's hard to imagine that. It's easier to picture this life where every week, on his date night, he posts a pic with his sweetheart, where they're now old, wrinkled and fading, and uses the same hashtag he did since the day they first fell in love. #whilebeinginlove. Romantic. Yes. Very. But a little redundant, too, right? But...
Maybe love is redundant?
Maybe love is repetitive?
Maybe love has to be proclaimed so that you know you really feel it?
Maybe being in love is something that can last forever...so long as you document it with a picture and a hashtag.
The title for this post came from this song:
Let's Do It (Let's Fall In Love) as sung by Ella Fitzgerald
