Am I doomed to the life of a spinster? Am I the picture of the modern day, educated, intelligent, independent spinster? I have the cat. It's as if almost all the puzzle pieces fit. I'm a curmudgeon, self proclaimed. A grump, a homebody, an old soul. I don't concern myself with the passing trends. My style is eclectic. I own a record player, a recent purchase - a proud find at a local's well to do garage sale - the best kind to go to by the way. I like going to the farmer's market and pretending I live in Italy, a long time ago. I prefer old fashioned letters - the kind you write, put a stamp on, and mail to your friend. In fact, when someone recently asked me whether I still engage in the act of snail mail - I didn't know what they were referring to.
See that's the thing - everything has to be so fast today, the faster the better. But I disagree. I can't stand facebook. Don't know or want to know what Twitter is. Why the obsession with letting everyone know your latest status? This is one of the most annoying things to me. Why must I be made aware that you just used the bathroom? Why must I know that you are now headed to Manhattan Beach? People, I don't care. Good for you, I mean. But I just don't see the point. Why do you have write on your status update that you can't wait to go home, or that you're at your desk and someone's typing in the cubicle next to you and is getting on your last nerves. Newsflash - your status updates are getting on my last nerves. I don't know you like that. My sister doesn't even tell me the tidbits of her daily life. Keep it to yourself. Some people think they're cool because they have something to write about. Or because they have hundreds of friends. That's just silly. It's a popularity contest. Will you be my friend on facebook? No I won't. We went to the same school - will you be my friend on facebook? We haven't spoken to each other in 15 years - will you be my friend on facebook? Oh but there are the ardent supporters and fans of facebook! They are not joking either. It's a way to keep in touch with so many people. It's not a popularity contest - these are friends from undergrad, from graduate school, from high school, from grade school, these are my work friends, my family - oh god - even family members are on facebook. It's a way to keep in touch with all those people I don't get the chance to talk to or see. Blah, blah, blah. Save it for your mama. You're not convincing me.
Yes, writing a letter is slower than shooting someone an email. But I tell you, it is so much more enjoyable. There's nothing like putting your pen down on the paper and marking characters of the alphabet and communicating something. The power of words. I'm a sucker for them. Nothing like personally writing a letter to someone. But I don't get many letters in the mail. I wish I did. They're so much fun. You can hold them, smell the paper, read it over and over again. The art and joy of letter writing. I hope it never dies.
Yeah, and what's with this notion of faster equals better? What about slowing down? Where are we in such a hurry to get to? Where? Please tell me. I implore you.
I prefer good old fashioned newspapers, the kind that get your fingers gray from the carbon. I'll take a newspaper any day over reading news online. But it's free - it's accessible wherever you are. I don't want something accessible wherever I am. I enjoy sitting down holding the newspaper and flipping through it to read the articles. I don't want to sit at a computer screen, ruin my eyes even more, and scroll down the screen using the cursor. I don't want everything I do to be with a machine. With technology. I don't need to read cnn.com, msn.com, nytimes.com, latimes.com. Give me one newspaper and I'm good to go. I don't need to read several versions. Again, another problem with society, with modern day society and our culture -- too many options. Let's keep it simple.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Soul Mate Ponderings
Soul mate do you exist?
Or are you just a figment of my imagination?
Am I too much of a dreamer?
Lost in the clouds
not grounded in reality?
It's a much more fun way
to approach life I must say.
But does it bring happiness?
Does my imagination bring me joy?
Or am I fooling myself?
Constantly chasing an ideal
that does not exist?
That is nowhere to be found.
Or are you just a figment of my imagination?
Am I too much of a dreamer?
Lost in the clouds
not grounded in reality?
It's a much more fun way
to approach life I must say.
But does it bring happiness?
Does my imagination bring me joy?
Or am I fooling myself?
Constantly chasing an ideal
that does not exist?
That is nowhere to be found.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Putting yourself out there
Everyone tells me I've got to put myself out there if I want to meet guys. I guess that's my problem of late. What to do, what to do. I've looked on those online dating sites - and I can't bring myself to do it. It just seems so unnatural. I know thousands of people are doing it. But like I said to my friend, If everyone jumps off the bridge, should I?
I am old fashioned and am determined to stay that way. Last night I did look at one of these dating sites and saw some sample pictures of guys. I got embarrassed just looking at it. I saw a beefy looking cheesy guy - who tried to pose sexy or what not - and I was embarrassed for him.
Maybe I need to put myself out there in the real world. Okay, so here's the dilemma. I'm an introvert who's not comfortable in big crowds. Once in a blue moon - I'll go to a dive bar. But that is seriously once in a blue moon. I'm a simpleton. I'm not into dressing up to go somewhere. It's an awkward phenomenon to me. Dressing up and going somewhere where everyone is trying to impress. I'm into dressing up when it's for me. I could be going to the supermarket, but if I'm in the mood to play Monica Belluci in Malena - I'll dress up and pretend I live in the 1940s and pretend men were like they used to be. That men still believed in courting women, and buying flowers, and trying to impress. Not this business of letting the woman pursue the man. That's just wrong. We like to be chased. And you like to chase us. That is, some of us like to be chased, and some men like to chase.
No for now, I'll still hold steadfast against joining a dating website. I don't want a boyfriend just to have one. I don't want a warm body next to me just to fulfill the status quo. Oh I can have a boyfriend just to have one. I want the real deal. I want love. I want to be in love.
I'm not into getting drunk at a bar and flirting with whatever Tom, Joe, or Harry happens to be at the bar. That's not fun. Sure, I can get attention from a bozo. But I don't want a bozo's attention.
You've got to be amazing. You've got to have passion. A brain, intellect. But not conceited. Don't think you're all that. Because in the end, humility wins with me. You can't be a punk. Manhood - it's a phenomenon that many guys today have lost touch with.
Am I expecting too much? Are my standards unreasonable? I really don't think so.
I am old fashioned and am determined to stay that way. Last night I did look at one of these dating sites and saw some sample pictures of guys. I got embarrassed just looking at it. I saw a beefy looking cheesy guy - who tried to pose sexy or what not - and I was embarrassed for him.
Maybe I need to put myself out there in the real world. Okay, so here's the dilemma. I'm an introvert who's not comfortable in big crowds. Once in a blue moon - I'll go to a dive bar. But that is seriously once in a blue moon. I'm a simpleton. I'm not into dressing up to go somewhere. It's an awkward phenomenon to me. Dressing up and going somewhere where everyone is trying to impress. I'm into dressing up when it's for me. I could be going to the supermarket, but if I'm in the mood to play Monica Belluci in Malena - I'll dress up and pretend I live in the 1940s and pretend men were like they used to be. That men still believed in courting women, and buying flowers, and trying to impress. Not this business of letting the woman pursue the man. That's just wrong. We like to be chased. And you like to chase us. That is, some of us like to be chased, and some men like to chase.
No for now, I'll still hold steadfast against joining a dating website. I don't want a boyfriend just to have one. I don't want a warm body next to me just to fulfill the status quo. Oh I can have a boyfriend just to have one. I want the real deal. I want love. I want to be in love.
I'm not into getting drunk at a bar and flirting with whatever Tom, Joe, or Harry happens to be at the bar. That's not fun. Sure, I can get attention from a bozo. But I don't want a bozo's attention.
You've got to be amazing. You've got to have passion. A brain, intellect. But not conceited. Don't think you're all that. Because in the end, humility wins with me. You can't be a punk. Manhood - it's a phenomenon that many guys today have lost touch with.
Am I expecting too much? Are my standards unreasonable? I really don't think so.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Heritage
(I like to write bits intended for children and young adults/teens.)
What you you Heritage? Are you my genetic pool? Are you my DNA? What does that mean?
I am half Persian and half Filipino. I am a mutt. I am neither one nor the other. I am bigger than both. I am just like you. I am human just like you. I come from two lands, from three actually.
My father comes from the mountains, the cold snowy mountains of Isfahan, Iran. He comes from a dry land, hot in the summer, and freezing in the winter. My mother comes from the islands of the Philippines. She comes from a tropical land, a humid land, a lush land, where people battle typhoons. A land where people can wear slippers all year long, a place where people eat sweet fruit.
My father, he likes to eat dates and nuts. His favorite is pistachio. This is the favorite nut of the land. It is my favorite nut too. Ask any Persian what his favorite nut is and he'll tell you it is the pistachio. We even created the pistachio ice cream.
My mother loves to eat watermelon and dried mangoes. She loves to eat fish with rice. Sometimes at home, we just use our hands without utensils. I love doing this. It's actually easier to eat like this. I usually don't do this when I'm out in public. Or when friends are over. I only do this with my family. These foods are my favorite too.
I am half Filipino and half Persian. I have straight black hair, thanks to my mother. I have hair on my body, thanks to my father. I love the cold. I love the warmth. I am my father's daughter. I am my mother's daughter.
I love to eat on the floor, on the carpet, sitting cross legged and enjoying a nice spread of food that has been laid out on a pretty Persian cloth. I love to eat salty goat cheese with lavash bread, and sip hot tea. My favorite Persian dish, is a stew called gormeh sabzeh. There's nothing quite like it. It's made with lamb and beef, greens and kidney beans. It is a bit sour. I pour it on top of basmati rice and sprinkle saffron on top. It is the best.
I also come from America. This is where my parents met. They met in Los Angeles, one of the biggest cities of the United States. It was here that I was born. Many people don't know what my ethnicity is. Many people guess and get it wrong. I don't mind. It's fun to me. It's always a mystery. I'm not that easy to figure out.
I come from America. I love hamburgers and french fries, and I love apple pie. My favorite ice cream is Mint N Chip from 31 Flavors Baskin Robbins. I am an American. I love watching movies and eating popcorn at the theater. My favorite sport to watch is basketball. I want to grow up and get married and have kids. I want to live in a house with a white picket fence around the yard. I want to live next door to my best friend.
When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut. I can't wait to put on my blue astronaut suit and wave to the news cameras as I get ready to ride the huge elevator that will take me to the top of the shuttle at Cape Canaveral. I will be a mission specialist and once we're in outer space, I will go outside and repair the broken satellite. Or I will become a violin player who travels around the world making music for people, making really good music, the kind that makes you cry because it's so good. Or I will be a photographer for National Geographic and travel the world and take pictures of beautiful places, of people, and animals. I will get to meet all sorts of different people. But people who are probably just like you and me.
I'm an American. I'm Filipino. I'm Persian. I'm so much, but not just my ethnicities. I am a person. I am a girl. I am human, just like you.
What you you Heritage? Are you my genetic pool? Are you my DNA? What does that mean?
I am half Persian and half Filipino. I am a mutt. I am neither one nor the other. I am bigger than both. I am just like you. I am human just like you. I come from two lands, from three actually.
My father comes from the mountains, the cold snowy mountains of Isfahan, Iran. He comes from a dry land, hot in the summer, and freezing in the winter. My mother comes from the islands of the Philippines. She comes from a tropical land, a humid land, a lush land, where people battle typhoons. A land where people can wear slippers all year long, a place where people eat sweet fruit.
My father, he likes to eat dates and nuts. His favorite is pistachio. This is the favorite nut of the land. It is my favorite nut too. Ask any Persian what his favorite nut is and he'll tell you it is the pistachio. We even created the pistachio ice cream.
My mother loves to eat watermelon and dried mangoes. She loves to eat fish with rice. Sometimes at home, we just use our hands without utensils. I love doing this. It's actually easier to eat like this. I usually don't do this when I'm out in public. Or when friends are over. I only do this with my family. These foods are my favorite too.
I am half Filipino and half Persian. I have straight black hair, thanks to my mother. I have hair on my body, thanks to my father. I love the cold. I love the warmth. I am my father's daughter. I am my mother's daughter.
I love to eat on the floor, on the carpet, sitting cross legged and enjoying a nice spread of food that has been laid out on a pretty Persian cloth. I love to eat salty goat cheese with lavash bread, and sip hot tea. My favorite Persian dish, is a stew called gormeh sabzeh. There's nothing quite like it. It's made with lamb and beef, greens and kidney beans. It is a bit sour. I pour it on top of basmati rice and sprinkle saffron on top. It is the best.
I also come from America. This is where my parents met. They met in Los Angeles, one of the biggest cities of the United States. It was here that I was born. Many people don't know what my ethnicity is. Many people guess and get it wrong. I don't mind. It's fun to me. It's always a mystery. I'm not that easy to figure out.
I come from America. I love hamburgers and french fries, and I love apple pie. My favorite ice cream is Mint N Chip from 31 Flavors Baskin Robbins. I am an American. I love watching movies and eating popcorn at the theater. My favorite sport to watch is basketball. I want to grow up and get married and have kids. I want to live in a house with a white picket fence around the yard. I want to live next door to my best friend.
When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut. I can't wait to put on my blue astronaut suit and wave to the news cameras as I get ready to ride the huge elevator that will take me to the top of the shuttle at Cape Canaveral. I will be a mission specialist and once we're in outer space, I will go outside and repair the broken satellite. Or I will become a violin player who travels around the world making music for people, making really good music, the kind that makes you cry because it's so good. Or I will be a photographer for National Geographic and travel the world and take pictures of beautiful places, of people, and animals. I will get to meet all sorts of different people. But people who are probably just like you and me.
I'm an American. I'm Filipino. I'm Persian. I'm so much, but not just my ethnicities. I am a person. I am a girl. I am human, just like you.
Soul Mate
Soul mate can you hear me?
Can you hear me out there?
Wherever you are.
How I wonder how you are.
Or where you are.
Or when you will find me.
How long must I wait?
I will wait for all eternity
Just to hear your voice,
The voice of my beloved.
Even though I do not know you yet,
I believe you are out there.
I have to believe.
Otherwise it's a cold world.
And I want no part of it, you hear.
No part of it.
I'm meant to be loved.
I'm meant to love.
Love is all I have.
Can you hear me out there?
Wherever you are.
How I wonder how you are.
Or where you are.
Or when you will find me.
How long must I wait?
I will wait for all eternity
Just to hear your voice,
The voice of my beloved.
Even though I do not know you yet,
I believe you are out there.
I have to believe.
Otherwise it's a cold world.
And I want no part of it, you hear.
No part of it.
I'm meant to be loved.
I'm meant to love.
Love is all I have.
Must We Kill?
My heart aches for the tiny mouse stuck on the mouse trap. Must he die a slow death? Why are humans so cruel? He's just a mouse that's looking for food. Does he really hurt anyone? He won't touch your food unless you leave it out. How can any human kill an animal? I just don't understand. He hasn't done anything to you.
I want to cry. I couldn't look at it. I want to rescue all the animals. It's true. I have a hard time understanding or accepting the circle of life. Just because someone is squeamish - just because a human doesn't want to look at the creature. How rude. How arrogant. Oh little mouse - I'll say a prayer for you. I'll cry for you. I'll try to be a better human for you and for all your brothers and sisters, not just in the rat species, in all the species.
Last night on 60 minutes, there was a segment on the last great migration in Kenya. It is so beautiful, so amazing. Yet we're destroying it. I know we are. The water is running out. The wildebeest will be decimated in about one week, the American scientist estimated. All those animals dying of thirst. And the baby cheetahs. The zebras, giraffes, the lions. What then? How will we sustain this earth? We are killing it. We are killing every living thing on it. This makes me immensely sad. Immensely. My heart aches for the deaths, the decimation of species, the obliteration of our forests, of nature. I'm sorry Mother Earth. I'm sorry we have abused and abused you. Some of us are trying to make amends. Maybe it's not too late.
I want to cry. I couldn't look at it. I want to rescue all the animals. It's true. I have a hard time understanding or accepting the circle of life. Just because someone is squeamish - just because a human doesn't want to look at the creature. How rude. How arrogant. Oh little mouse - I'll say a prayer for you. I'll cry for you. I'll try to be a better human for you and for all your brothers and sisters, not just in the rat species, in all the species.
Last night on 60 minutes, there was a segment on the last great migration in Kenya. It is so beautiful, so amazing. Yet we're destroying it. I know we are. The water is running out. The wildebeest will be decimated in about one week, the American scientist estimated. All those animals dying of thirst. And the baby cheetahs. The zebras, giraffes, the lions. What then? How will we sustain this earth? We are killing it. We are killing every living thing on it. This makes me immensely sad. Immensely. My heart aches for the deaths, the decimation of species, the obliteration of our forests, of nature. I'm sorry Mother Earth. I'm sorry we have abused and abused you. Some of us are trying to make amends. Maybe it's not too late.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sweet Potato Fries
Sweet potato fries on a Monday morning because someone woke up hella early, but felt like writing instead of heading to the pool. Oh I would have loved to swim this morning, fish that I am, if I could have gotten a ride there on a magic carpet instead of driving my car. I woke up thinking of the water. No, for this morning I write and I make sweet potato fries for breakfast.
Sweet potato fries are to french fries, as kettle corn is to popcorn. It's just more special. It's sweet and salty at the same time. Your taste buds experience a simultaneous flavor explosion. Oh it's superb. Now a couple blogs ago I wrote how some people say once you get an Ipod, you'll wonder how you ever lived without one. Well, not for me folks. For me, it's how did I ever live without sweet potato fries!! It's a question I can't answer. Sometimes when you don't know what you're missing, you can't miss it. I lived all my life without sweet potato fries, without knowing I can cook them. Do you know how empowering it is to know I can make my own sweet potato fries whenever my heart desires?
Ah sweet potato fries on a Monday morning. Well, I'm liable to do the impossible now. No telling what this day holds for me. It's giving me an extra kick in my step, bounce in my jump. All I know is that I could eat sweet potato fries every morning for breakfast.
Sweet potato fries are to french fries, as kettle corn is to popcorn. It's just more special. It's sweet and salty at the same time. Your taste buds experience a simultaneous flavor explosion. Oh it's superb. Now a couple blogs ago I wrote how some people say once you get an Ipod, you'll wonder how you ever lived without one. Well, not for me folks. For me, it's how did I ever live without sweet potato fries!! It's a question I can't answer. Sometimes when you don't know what you're missing, you can't miss it. I lived all my life without sweet potato fries, without knowing I can cook them. Do you know how empowering it is to know I can make my own sweet potato fries whenever my heart desires?
Ah sweet potato fries on a Monday morning. Well, I'm liable to do the impossible now. No telling what this day holds for me. It's giving me an extra kick in my step, bounce in my jump. All I know is that I could eat sweet potato fries every morning for breakfast.
A Big Ego
He has such a big ego. It's too big, it's too wide, it won't fit... I love that Beyonce song. I really do. He can talk like that, cuz he can back it up. Such a big ego.
Well I love a confident man, but never the arrogant man. Confident, yet humble.
Why sure I'm dealing with a broken heart, but the other source of my pain - is my ego. I've got a big ego!! And it hurts when a man don't realize how lucky he was to even have a chance with me. Oh yes, it hurts my big ego... I've got a big ego. I can't believe it when a guy doesn't adore me like he should. Oh I've got a big ego.
Yes, and every time my mind wanders to the fact that he thinks he is better off without me, well frankly it sets me off the edge. And I have to remind myself it's just my big ego. I can't accept that a doofus doesn't see what's in front of him. But alas, I remind myself he was probably too much of a lamebrain. Yes, he didn't have a big ego. So he couldn't talk like that, cuz he couldn't back it up. He ain't got a big ego. Oh no, he don't have one. He actually kind of sad, when you think about it. He ain't got a big ego. Nope, his brain is the size of a pea pod. He ain't confident cuz he ain't got nothing to be confident about. Oh, no he can't walk like that, cuz he can't back it up.
Well I love a confident man, but never the arrogant man. Confident, yet humble.
Why sure I'm dealing with a broken heart, but the other source of my pain - is my ego. I've got a big ego!! And it hurts when a man don't realize how lucky he was to even have a chance with me. Oh yes, it hurts my big ego... I've got a big ego. I can't believe it when a guy doesn't adore me like he should. Oh I've got a big ego.
Yes, and every time my mind wanders to the fact that he thinks he is better off without me, well frankly it sets me off the edge. And I have to remind myself it's just my big ego. I can't accept that a doofus doesn't see what's in front of him. But alas, I remind myself he was probably too much of a lamebrain. Yes, he didn't have a big ego. So he couldn't talk like that, cuz he couldn't back it up. He ain't got a big ego. Oh no, he don't have one. He actually kind of sad, when you think about it. He ain't got a big ego. Nope, his brain is the size of a pea pod. He ain't confident cuz he ain't got nothing to be confident about. Oh, no he can't walk like that, cuz he can't back it up.
Mending a Broken Heart
I must say - having a loving kitty cat sure helps one mend a broken heart. Buddy loves me unconditionally. He always wants to cuddle. Well maybe not always. But you know what I mean. He can't see why anyone wouldn't love me. That's what he tells me when he looks into my eyes as he is purring his little feline heart away.
As much as I try be hardened about love, even after my heart has been broken - it's no use. I'm a sucker for love. I'm not sure I've been so successful building that wall back up around my heart. I'm a little more cautious, sure. A little more alert to the red flags that might appear. But building the Berlin Wall around my heart - of this I am not capable. Maybe I'll get my heart broken again, though I sure hope I don't. I'm hoping the next time I get involved with someone for a period of time, it will be the real deal. There I go again - with my expectations.
Yesterday when I was out doing an errand, I caught glimpse of a guy who noticed me. And there was the reminder to me - that all is not over. Life is not over yet. There are other fish in the sea. He wasn't particularly my type. But maybe that's what I need - someone who I haven't yet considered. Maybe the next guy will surprise me. Who knows? It felt good to have someone notice me. And not just the bozos who notice anyone. Like the old man who saw me in the store with my niece, and told her she has a cute mommy. I just laughed and kept going. First of all, it's funny to me when people think I'm a mommy. Actually I love it. See I am a sucker. I can't wait to be a mommy myself. I love pretending that my niece or nephew is my own kid.
But I'm not a spring chicken anymore. Don't worry, my sis tells me -- look at Salma Hayek and Halle Berry. Having their first kid around 40. 40 is the new 20, she reminds me. Well I'm still in the first half of my thirties so I still have hope right. And I've got the Asian genes to keep me looking younger than my age. But even that gives me cause to worry. What if some guy is attracted to me because he thinks I am younger than I am. Will he still like me once he finds out my age? Or I am doomed to date younger guys? Not that much younger. I just have a tendency to date guys one to two years younger. Again, it is because I believe I am truly young at heart.
So I maintain hope. I maintain hope at finding love. I have so much love in my heart I don't know what to do with it. I would like to start my own family relatively soon. I know I should let go of certain expectations - but I can't help myself. Having a family of my own is one of my dreams. It just is.
Do you want a family too - soul mate? Wherever you are? Are you out there? Do you hear my soul calling out to yours? Will you find me one day? Will you find me? And take me into your arms, and never let me go?
As much as I try be hardened about love, even after my heart has been broken - it's no use. I'm a sucker for love. I'm not sure I've been so successful building that wall back up around my heart. I'm a little more cautious, sure. A little more alert to the red flags that might appear. But building the Berlin Wall around my heart - of this I am not capable. Maybe I'll get my heart broken again, though I sure hope I don't. I'm hoping the next time I get involved with someone for a period of time, it will be the real deal. There I go again - with my expectations.
Yesterday when I was out doing an errand, I caught glimpse of a guy who noticed me. And there was the reminder to me - that all is not over. Life is not over yet. There are other fish in the sea. He wasn't particularly my type. But maybe that's what I need - someone who I haven't yet considered. Maybe the next guy will surprise me. Who knows? It felt good to have someone notice me. And not just the bozos who notice anyone. Like the old man who saw me in the store with my niece, and told her she has a cute mommy. I just laughed and kept going. First of all, it's funny to me when people think I'm a mommy. Actually I love it. See I am a sucker. I can't wait to be a mommy myself. I love pretending that my niece or nephew is my own kid.
But I'm not a spring chicken anymore. Don't worry, my sis tells me -- look at Salma Hayek and Halle Berry. Having their first kid around 40. 40 is the new 20, she reminds me. Well I'm still in the first half of my thirties so I still have hope right. And I've got the Asian genes to keep me looking younger than my age. But even that gives me cause to worry. What if some guy is attracted to me because he thinks I am younger than I am. Will he still like me once he finds out my age? Or I am doomed to date younger guys? Not that much younger. I just have a tendency to date guys one to two years younger. Again, it is because I believe I am truly young at heart.
So I maintain hope. I maintain hope at finding love. I have so much love in my heart I don't know what to do with it. I would like to start my own family relatively soon. I know I should let go of certain expectations - but I can't help myself. Having a family of my own is one of my dreams. It just is.
Do you want a family too - soul mate? Wherever you are? Are you out there? Do you hear my soul calling out to yours? Will you find me one day? Will you find me? And take me into your arms, and never let me go?
Friday, October 2, 2009
The Berlin Wall of My Heart
I don't believe in love anymore. Not for me anyway. Not in the romantic sense.
Yet I can't help but wonder, if I get my heart broken, does that mean I'm closer to finding true love? Am I just getting closer to the real deal? The real deal cold steel?
I'm hurt. My heart is broken. I want to put a wall back up around my heart. To protect myself. To make sure I am never hurt again.
Yet, as much as I tell myself I'm doomed to be a spinster the rest of my life - that not everyone is lucky enough to experience romantic love with the same person for years and years, there's this little nugget of hope inside - that I will find love.
It's torture. Why do I do it? Am I just fooling myself into thinking I'll find love, in order to keep my spirits up? Will the day come round, when I look in the mirror and my youth has left me? Will I look in the mirror and see a shrunken, gray haired, wrinkled woman and realize that I had fooled myself all along - because I'm still alone?
People tell me not to worry about it. It'll happen when you're least expecting it. Well I guess it hasn't happened yet. Instead I've run into the boys that are no good for me. There's no one to blame but myself. I know. I accept responsibility for my actions. I accept the consequences and all that good stuff. But I want to make it better. I want to build that wall up - but still I can't even fool myself. Why? I tell myself I'll build the wall back up. I also tell myself that the right one will come along and break the wall back down. And then I'll know it's true love. Because he'll be the only one who can get to my heart.
It's so hard. But I'll survive. No one ever died from a broken heart, right. Yet it feels like you're dying, doesn't it? Your senses are out of sync, you can't eat, you can't sleep. Lovesick. But you've been through it before. You know you will continue to breathe.
One of my friends told me I'm a hopeless romantic with very certain ideals and expectations on what a relationship is supposed to look like. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. You're not supposed to settle. God forbid - you never want to settle. And I actually buy that. I'm not an idiot. I don't want to be with someone just to be with someone. If he's not what I want, if he doesn't treat me right, etc. I'm not going to settle. You want to set certain standards. But you don't want to expect someone to be perfect. No one is perfect including yourself. You know this. You accept this. So where do the lines cross and become blurry? At what point, do I get too much into fantasy and fairy tales about love and relationships?
Well I guess I'll build that wall back up, the Berlin Wall of my heart, and see if I fare any better in the arena of love. I'll be more discriminating, more scrutinizing. I'll set the bar high, but be open to what the universe throws to me. I'll still call out to my soul-mate though. I still can't let go the notion of true love. I'm stubborn. I'm a dreamer. And maybe my fantasies and fairy tales are good fodder for my writing, but I can't let go. If I can't dream, then what's the point?
Yet I can't help but wonder, if I get my heart broken, does that mean I'm closer to finding true love? Am I just getting closer to the real deal? The real deal cold steel?
I'm hurt. My heart is broken. I want to put a wall back up around my heart. To protect myself. To make sure I am never hurt again.
Yet, as much as I tell myself I'm doomed to be a spinster the rest of my life - that not everyone is lucky enough to experience romantic love with the same person for years and years, there's this little nugget of hope inside - that I will find love.
It's torture. Why do I do it? Am I just fooling myself into thinking I'll find love, in order to keep my spirits up? Will the day come round, when I look in the mirror and my youth has left me? Will I look in the mirror and see a shrunken, gray haired, wrinkled woman and realize that I had fooled myself all along - because I'm still alone?
People tell me not to worry about it. It'll happen when you're least expecting it. Well I guess it hasn't happened yet. Instead I've run into the boys that are no good for me. There's no one to blame but myself. I know. I accept responsibility for my actions. I accept the consequences and all that good stuff. But I want to make it better. I want to build that wall up - but still I can't even fool myself. Why? I tell myself I'll build the wall back up. I also tell myself that the right one will come along and break the wall back down. And then I'll know it's true love. Because he'll be the only one who can get to my heart.
It's so hard. But I'll survive. No one ever died from a broken heart, right. Yet it feels like you're dying, doesn't it? Your senses are out of sync, you can't eat, you can't sleep. Lovesick. But you've been through it before. You know you will continue to breathe.
One of my friends told me I'm a hopeless romantic with very certain ideals and expectations on what a relationship is supposed to look like. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. You're not supposed to settle. God forbid - you never want to settle. And I actually buy that. I'm not an idiot. I don't want to be with someone just to be with someone. If he's not what I want, if he doesn't treat me right, etc. I'm not going to settle. You want to set certain standards. But you don't want to expect someone to be perfect. No one is perfect including yourself. You know this. You accept this. So where do the lines cross and become blurry? At what point, do I get too much into fantasy and fairy tales about love and relationships?
Well I guess I'll build that wall back up, the Berlin Wall of my heart, and see if I fare any better in the arena of love. I'll be more discriminating, more scrutinizing. I'll set the bar high, but be open to what the universe throws to me. I'll still call out to my soul-mate though. I still can't let go the notion of true love. I'm stubborn. I'm a dreamer. And maybe my fantasies and fairy tales are good fodder for my writing, but I can't let go. If I can't dream, then what's the point?
Friday October 2
Friday morning yet again my friends of the universe, my friends of the blog world. Who knows where you are. It's pretty fascinating to wonder where you are. Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder how you are... where you are... Who knows what you are like my first visitors to my first blog ever. Thank you for reading, for visiting. I appreciate it.
So as I awake this beautiful Friday morning, after a twelve hour sleep, I am refreshed and ready for the fall to begin. The weather is changing. It's colder in the mornings and at night. You don't sleep with the windows open. I actually looked for my winter house slippers this morning, but took them off after a few minutes, because my feet started to get too hot. I guess it's not that cold yet. I'm switching to winter mode. I want to wear pants and cover up. My skin is getting dry from the air. The nights are getting longer, and the days shorter. How life is just a series of cycles.
I'm starting to think of my Christmas gift list - what to get for my family. I already know what I'll get the niece and nephew. They are the easiest. Thinking of my annual Christmas card list. I love to send cards, to family, friends, and even friends I hardly talk to anymore. Baking - oh how I'll get into baking. I've stayed away during the summer because of the heat. But just wait until it gets even colder. I'll be baking up a storm.
Halloween is coming up. But it's not one of my favorites. It lasts too short. I've never been a very social butterfly or party goer. Like I've never been to a Halloween party. Never dressed up as anything during my adulthood. And seeing as how I don't live in a home yet, kids don't really come up to the apartment to go trick or treating. I do enjoy seeing a creatively decorated house for Halloween though. I get a kick out of seeing a family get so into the Halloween spirit. It is very cute for the kids to get so excited about the day. I would dress up at work, but we are not allowed to. We have to maintain a professional atmosphere.
I love Christmas though. I love giving gifts. I love thinking of what to get for my family members. It's fun. For some of them, I have to get creative. Like for my grandma - usually her gifts involve pictures. It's hard to shop for a grandma. Yes, I look forward to the holiday. But at the same time, I am happy when the holiday is over and done with. One thing I have to say I've learned about myself is that I really try to stay away from the consumer mentality associated with the holidays. Oh how it's shoved down our throats in our culture, through the media, the incessant commercials. When I used to earn more money, I would be focused on how much I can get for my family. Now I realize that is not important at all. All the toys in the world aren't going to bring my niece and nephew happiness. Anyone with kids can see that. Now I focus on getting each a book - because of my utter love for reading - I like to pass that trait down. And one toy for each. Really what else do you need?
For family, I'm thinking of more creative, sentimental gifts. Not clothes, or gadgets. I do dislike that type of advertising or sales associated with the holidays. I mean how many wallets are you going to get for your father, uncle, or brother. Come on, if they have a wallet, a decent one, and have not expressed any desire for a new one, must I get one every year for them? Or cologne, or some electronic gadget, like a nose hair remover. It's funny isn't it? We must buy something, just to buy something. Well it's Christmas. I have to get him something. How about something you make, you create? Something that means something special. It's really not about being cheap. Yes, I am 0n a tight budget. But I want to get away from a highly consumerist mentality. Forgive me if I spelled that wrong.
Like for me. I've never been rich. Sometimes the wanting of a certain object is more fun than actually obtaining it. It's true. I've experienced it all my life, since I was a kid. I always wanted the shoes that the rich kids in school had. Part of the fun was imagining what I'd do when I got them. How I'd wear them, with what clothes. And let me tell you. I've purchased expensive stuff when I used to earn more money - and after a while, the authenticity of that moment fades too. Yes, it fades into the distance. You take it for granted. Why some of the best things I have, or my favorite things to wear are stuff I've gotten on sale, stuff that isn't name brand, just stuff that I love. And I try to appreciate all that I have. The abundance in my life.
So as I think about all the stuff I want to order for myself from Amazon.com, I pause to think - will all of that truly bring me happiness? If I don't get that CD, will I be okay? And frankly, I miss using the good old cassette tapes, buying the blank ones, and just pressing record on the cassette player to record my favorite songs from the radio. That's even better than buying a CD because usually I buy the CD for one song - but I buy the whole album thinking I'll like the rest of the songs, when in reality, I just press repeat on the CD player so I can listen to the same song, over and over again. I wonder if you could buy blank CDs and just record your favorite songs. But I was a kid back then. Who has the time to sit by the radio with your fingers ready to press record? Oh yes, and I am not ashamed to say I don't own an Ipod. What you don't own an Ipod? Yes, I do not own one. I thought about getting one. But I was never into the walkman back when those were in style. People say, Oh once you get an Ipod, you'll wonder how you ever lived without one. Really? Is that a fact? Hmmm.. Well, I'm surviving right now. But maybe these people could be right. If I ever get one, I'll wonder - wow how did I ever live without this electronic music gadget??? For now, I'll be old-fashioned and continue to purchase CDs. Shoot, many may think I might as well buy music records. And perhaps I will become one of those people you see in the music shop rummaging through the records. Those people you look at and wonder, wow, so are they collecting those items of antiquity, or do they really still own a record player. To tell you the truth, I wish I had a record player. I miss those things. I want to pretend I live in the 1920s and set my album on the player, and dance with myself, imagining what it'll be like to dance with my prince charming. It always come back to that with me, doesn't it.
So as I awake this beautiful Friday morning, after a twelve hour sleep, I am refreshed and ready for the fall to begin. The weather is changing. It's colder in the mornings and at night. You don't sleep with the windows open. I actually looked for my winter house slippers this morning, but took them off after a few minutes, because my feet started to get too hot. I guess it's not that cold yet. I'm switching to winter mode. I want to wear pants and cover up. My skin is getting dry from the air. The nights are getting longer, and the days shorter. How life is just a series of cycles.
I'm starting to think of my Christmas gift list - what to get for my family. I already know what I'll get the niece and nephew. They are the easiest. Thinking of my annual Christmas card list. I love to send cards, to family, friends, and even friends I hardly talk to anymore. Baking - oh how I'll get into baking. I've stayed away during the summer because of the heat. But just wait until it gets even colder. I'll be baking up a storm.
Halloween is coming up. But it's not one of my favorites. It lasts too short. I've never been a very social butterfly or party goer. Like I've never been to a Halloween party. Never dressed up as anything during my adulthood. And seeing as how I don't live in a home yet, kids don't really come up to the apartment to go trick or treating. I do enjoy seeing a creatively decorated house for Halloween though. I get a kick out of seeing a family get so into the Halloween spirit. It is very cute for the kids to get so excited about the day. I would dress up at work, but we are not allowed to. We have to maintain a professional atmosphere.
I love Christmas though. I love giving gifts. I love thinking of what to get for my family members. It's fun. For some of them, I have to get creative. Like for my grandma - usually her gifts involve pictures. It's hard to shop for a grandma. Yes, I look forward to the holiday. But at the same time, I am happy when the holiday is over and done with. One thing I have to say I've learned about myself is that I really try to stay away from the consumer mentality associated with the holidays. Oh how it's shoved down our throats in our culture, through the media, the incessant commercials. When I used to earn more money, I would be focused on how much I can get for my family. Now I realize that is not important at all. All the toys in the world aren't going to bring my niece and nephew happiness. Anyone with kids can see that. Now I focus on getting each a book - because of my utter love for reading - I like to pass that trait down. And one toy for each. Really what else do you need?
For family, I'm thinking of more creative, sentimental gifts. Not clothes, or gadgets. I do dislike that type of advertising or sales associated with the holidays. I mean how many wallets are you going to get for your father, uncle, or brother. Come on, if they have a wallet, a decent one, and have not expressed any desire for a new one, must I get one every year for them? Or cologne, or some electronic gadget, like a nose hair remover. It's funny isn't it? We must buy something, just to buy something. Well it's Christmas. I have to get him something. How about something you make, you create? Something that means something special. It's really not about being cheap. Yes, I am 0n a tight budget. But I want to get away from a highly consumerist mentality. Forgive me if I spelled that wrong.
Like for me. I've never been rich. Sometimes the wanting of a certain object is more fun than actually obtaining it. It's true. I've experienced it all my life, since I was a kid. I always wanted the shoes that the rich kids in school had. Part of the fun was imagining what I'd do when I got them. How I'd wear them, with what clothes. And let me tell you. I've purchased expensive stuff when I used to earn more money - and after a while, the authenticity of that moment fades too. Yes, it fades into the distance. You take it for granted. Why some of the best things I have, or my favorite things to wear are stuff I've gotten on sale, stuff that isn't name brand, just stuff that I love. And I try to appreciate all that I have. The abundance in my life.
So as I think about all the stuff I want to order for myself from Amazon.com, I pause to think - will all of that truly bring me happiness? If I don't get that CD, will I be okay? And frankly, I miss using the good old cassette tapes, buying the blank ones, and just pressing record on the cassette player to record my favorite songs from the radio. That's even better than buying a CD because usually I buy the CD for one song - but I buy the whole album thinking I'll like the rest of the songs, when in reality, I just press repeat on the CD player so I can listen to the same song, over and over again. I wonder if you could buy blank CDs and just record your favorite songs. But I was a kid back then. Who has the time to sit by the radio with your fingers ready to press record? Oh yes, and I am not ashamed to say I don't own an Ipod. What you don't own an Ipod? Yes, I do not own one. I thought about getting one. But I was never into the walkman back when those were in style. People say, Oh once you get an Ipod, you'll wonder how you ever lived without one. Really? Is that a fact? Hmmm.. Well, I'm surviving right now. But maybe these people could be right. If I ever get one, I'll wonder - wow how did I ever live without this electronic music gadget??? For now, I'll be old-fashioned and continue to purchase CDs. Shoot, many may think I might as well buy music records. And perhaps I will become one of those people you see in the music shop rummaging through the records. Those people you look at and wonder, wow, so are they collecting those items of antiquity, or do they really still own a record player. To tell you the truth, I wish I had a record player. I miss those things. I want to pretend I live in the 1920s and set my album on the player, and dance with myself, imagining what it'll be like to dance with my prince charming. It always come back to that with me, doesn't it.
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