sappy hands
November 29, 2007
tonight, while feeling particularly festive, i rummaged through a hearty selection of christmas-tree like potted plants outside of trader joe’s. after nearly 15 minutes of pining over the pines, i chose a spry fellow whom i’m sure by morning will have spread his wings fully in the warmer climate of my dining table.
but before i could even think about plotting my new green friend, i had to roam the aisles in search of several products. no biggie. except my hands were loaded with sap.
had i been engaged in a rough-and-tumble slap bet competition, this predicament might have come in handy.* however, trying to get unstuck from the cart’s handle, picking up the fine plastic wrapping around bread loves, or paying with paper money is — remarkably — difficult when your hands are made of super glue. so is driving home because, for some inexplicable reason, you sill aren’t considering “go to the bathroom and wash my damn hands already” a real option.
so if there’s anything i learned from today’s experience, it’s this: trees are overrated.
i mean, think about it. they’re ultra lazy. they just sit around day in and day out, swaying a few inches every once in a while squirting out a sticky substance some botanist long ago told us wasn’t gross. i know sap serves several purposes — such as to attract bees who will help to spread pollen and make pine babies, and also to form a once-gelatenous, now-hard rock around mosquitos that have sucked the blood of dinosaurs but got preserved long enough for an old dude to buy a remote island and use that mosquito’s dino-dna-filled bloodfood to unextintionate** dinosaurs, just to name a couple examples — but none of them directly benefit me while i’m trying to grocery shop.
i also learned: wash your hands. clearly, two key takeaways from an otherwise ho-hum trip to the grocery store.
* pun intended. don’t judge me.
** i know, but don’t you think it should be a word?
routine of relentless restlessness
November 27, 2007
i have this routine in which every few months — if even that long — i feel like i need to be doing something else. most of the time, “something else” is not defined. it’s not like i’m at work and thinking, “dude, i should be in the cayman’s right now.” no, my friend, i assure you — that happens every day.
instead, i’m referring specifically to that feeling i get when i realize i’m 27 and have limited resources and experiences at my disposal. it punches me in the face and screams, “you should be an architect,” or, occasionally, “why aren’t you a choreographer for the love of pete?” (yes, it’s an angry, impatient voice.)
and, truth be told, being an orchestral conductor or score composer or fitness club owner seems like the perfect solution when i’m struggling to discover how i managed to spend a ludicrous 100 hours on web documentation.
once, my best friend josh was offered a “promotion.” this promotion came with no additional money, but it carried additional responsibilities and had a “trial period” for an undefined amount of time, so apparently that registers to devil managers as the type of thing any person would be NUTS not to take. josh assured these asswads their offer was golden in his book; he took it. literally the same day, however, he emailed everyone he knew in the entertainment business — and even those totally uninvolved but living in some proximity to nyc or la — started packing his belongings to move from dc and try like hell to get into the acting business. it’s his dream, and he’s living it now; working a day job, waiting tables on the weekends for extra cash to afford a manhattan lifestyle, and taking an acting class twice a week in the famed william esper studio. he made incredible sacrifices in a short amount of time.
he did it, because the alternative was to wind up making a huge sacrifice to himself so that he could continue getting *most* of the things he wanted out of life. some people think his leaving makes him selfish. “you can’t have it all” is a common phrase. i think those people are jealous because they don’t have it all.
he might not, either, but at least he’s laying it all on the line with such a goal in mind. in fact, josh told me that he realized when he was offered this “promotion” that it was the “exact moment in which people say, ‘well, whatever the fuck. i wasn’t going to make it as an [insert dream life] anyway.’” it’s an easy choice. that’s why people find themselves in jobs they never imagined doing.
so, back to me. it’s all about me. (i mean, this is my blog, anyway. lay off.)
the flipside of that is my scenario; i can’t imagine a job i’ll always love doing. i’m told they exist, and josh seems to be ridiculously happy whenever he is acting — even if it’s just a background role.
it’s eluding to me: how do people realize there are things in life worth doing so fully and unquestioningly that they never feel the routine of relentless restlessness i experience?
had i chosen any of the paths outside of journalism (the one i decided upon) that i’ve seriously considered pursuing in my life — dance, exercise, composition, conducting, architecture, interior design, oh and marine biology, to name several — there’s probably a good chance i still would have run over the “what’s next” speed bump. or speed table or speed hump, depending upon which road you’re driving.
my buddies lloyd and audrey today separate from each other encouraged me to treat this cycle as a familiar friend, welcoming it as a chance to pause; in essence, to stop and say “what the fuck am i doing?!” but in a way that’s less pointed and more reflective. so maybe drop the explicative.
the point is, continually defining — and redefining — who i am and what i want out of life can be an emotionally exhausting task at times. one that distracts me and makes me question the things i thought i knew and loved. but it’s healthy — even though it’s very strong in me, much like the force — and i feel lucky to know that i’m secure enough to keep this evaluation going. it’s the best way to keep growing, even if others around me think i’m “too driven” or “just need to relax,” which is definitely sometimes the case.
ultimately, i don’t want to live a life in which i keep giving myself a break — or a brake, if you will, and i demand that you will — otherwise, i’ll end up like one of those douchebags who takes the fake promotion who essentially lets people walk all over her; all because she wasn’t aware enough of what she wanted from her life or what direction she was headed.
it’s never too late to re-orient myself and that’s exciting. keeping that angle in mind most certainly is my best defense — and most challenging obstacle — in living through my most restless moments.
so, what’s next right now? well, i think i’ll start with a snack.
grabbing life by the balls
November 25, 2007
so my title is crude. sue me. no, please don’t.
someone i respect greatly believes that “life is too short to sleep.” because i love sleeping so much, i’m intensely protective of it. i thoroughly enjoy giving myself plenty of time to relax every night (or on the couch during the day, or at a bullfight in madrid after a long flight over the pond); to recharge my body and energies, and especially to dream freely. i am one of those people who remembers her drams vividly. sometimes, it’s a curse — i’ll wake up feeling like i’ve been at war all night, thinking of crazy scenarios that i’m thankful live safely in my subconscious.
but spending too much time asleep, granted, certainly can lay the foundation for a life of laziness. it’s only when i realize that i’m starting to be complacent and safe that i re-plant my feet and start actively throwing sticks in the spokes of my routines. i must, or i’ll be middle aged before i’m middle aged. this is still a new technique for me after years of adhering strictly to safety zones, but i know it’s essential to put myself out there in order to become the person i truly want to be.
i want to have adventures, and i want to always be brave enough to take the road less traveled. that kind of bravery comes thanks to two things; a genuine nature and big balls. i mean, if i’m willing to make sacrifices and jump outside my comfort zone to push my own boundaries, i better have the balls to follow through with the consequences that come with such a decision. if i can take the first leap, i will have proved my bravery. if i can sustain whole heartedly that decision, then i will have proved my endurance. here is where i become someone who walks the talk. i want to be that person, even though i might be giving up some great things in the mean time.
i almost was engaged, once. when i realized i had spent at least a year of my life blindly marching the social path toward marriage, i lost myself. i realized i had lost myself only after months of emotional turmoil and after breaking a kind man’s heart; and i vowed to live an honest life for myself rooted in unrelenting questioning. on one hand, it’s been difficult — it’s much easier to just go with the flow rather than constantly bear the restless burden of asking, “is this what i want?” on the other, it’s vital to my growth as an individual. and if i can be whole and true to myself, i’m poised to better serve in every relationship i’ll have in my life.
sure, life sometimes can feel heavy. but when you surround yourself with supportive souls, explore opportunities with an open, creative mind, and truly commit yourself to achieving your dreams, you’ll find a web of love and encouragement to catch you when you fall and to bolster your spirits during the particularly trying times.
nothing worth having comes easy, so this time around i’m keeping me identity and goals a consistent priority, and making every effort to grab life by the balls.
what’s next?
girls
November 24, 2007
i am a tomboy. i grew up with two brothers who taught me lot baseball and how to drive our three-wheeler. i played video games with my friends’ brothers at sleepovers because barbies are lame. i climbed trees and road my bike five miles on back country roads and over “the old rickety bridge” to spend each summer day at the pool, living on reese cups and pepsi. i didn’t get boobs until last week.* at 27, i have more power tools than many of my male counterparts.
all this to say that being a girl — and relating to other girls — doesn’t come naturally to me. i surrounded myself with competitive gymnastics teammates and dramafree girls, and lots of great guy friends, too. my relationships weren’t plagued with impossible expectations; in fact, a good guy pal of mine once told me, “[your boyfriend] is lucky you think like a guy. he doesn’t know how good he’s got it.”
in my life, i somehow managed for the most part to avoid a particular type of girl who literally has no clue that she’s a passive aggressive selfish brat; a type of girl i’m calling a “divagrinch.”
a divagrinch honestly doesn’t know that she’s self absorbed; she ignorantly believes that she is a victim of the decisions imposed upon her by those thoughtless people around her. she cannot be inconvenienced whatsover, so she bitches and moans to find other options. she is inherently negative, so she connects with people by complaining about things. she has no clue that she could possibly be a heavy cloud of constant negativity whose expectations are impossible to reach. ultimately, the divagrinch is classically passive aggressive — though she thinks she’s assertive — whose insecurities subconsciously cause her to alienate people around her at the slightest suggestion of disappointment. she can’t fathom that by chilling out, she might actually enjoy herself and forge deeper, more meaningful relationships.
all i know so far is that a dramaless friend must eventually make a decision: compromise what she wants to please the divagrinch, or terminate the friendship knowing she’ll have to bear the girlie guilt and “bitch” title that comes with such a decision.
my dramaless best friend is in this position. she’s planning her wedding and she’s trying to accommodate a few divagrinches. at first, she tried to stick to her guns. but she ultimately decided that their shared history together was important enough to her that she was willing to compromise her own desires to quell the drama being raised by dissatisfied divagrinches.
i’m not sure i’d have made the same decision. i don’t think a shared history is enough to maintain a solid relationship. in fact, it clouds the present moment. it essentially justifies unhealthy decisions and behaviors because both parties are rooted in this unique experience that, sure, could span decades, but ultimately doesn’t fully satisfy either person.
in a perfect world, there’d be none of this turmoil. but it makes for good tv, i suppose, and plenty of people feed off this drama (whether they admit to it or not). for me, i’ll keep looking for the next tree to climb.
* this is probably a lie.
