Fear Factor

I'm watching a potential love unfold. One person is clearly the aggressor; they are expressive with their feelings, affectionate and paying close attention to their date. The other is reticent and has a side-eye, their expression clearly conveying their suspicions that this is not fa true and cannot be trusted. My heart breaks for the reticent one, because as their friend, I only want happiness and unicorns for them. I cross my fingers and hope that they let their heart open just a little bit. But I know what's going on; I understand the reticence and the disbelief. It's like watching a scary movie on a dark and stormy night and the lights go off right as Freddie/Jason/Big Bird is about to slash someone's throat. 

It's our old friend fear.

Good old fear. It follows us everywhere. When we're moving to a new city, starting a new job, getting a different haircut...it's there. What if...what if I hate living there? What if everyone at my new job finds out that I don't know what I'm doing? What if my hair looks a hot mess? What if...? What we don't ask ourselves as often is what if I freaking love it here? What if they immediately get that I'm a genius at my new job and they'd be lost without me? What if I start a new hair cut trend (even if I got the picture off of Pinterest)? We seldom ask ourselves the questions about things turning out well. It's most often the questions that are tinged (or drenched) in fear.

I blame Kim Kardashian. She makes everything scary.

As we get older and more set in our ways, we especially become more fearful when it comes to matters of the heart. If at this point (this point being our thirties, especially after 33 and a half) we haven't found the love of our lives, we are more likely to run away from even contemplating the possibility of being open to considering letting our hearts jump back into the fray. So when we meet someone amazing, instead of being all excited, we do our very best to sabotage it. Although my heart has already been broken approximately 23,935 times, I'll be damned if I let it get broken a 23,936th time! That's just too many times. 

F*ck. That.

It makes total sense, in a totally illogical, nonsensical way. Even though most of us are either overtly or surreptitiously looking for love, who really wants to go through the difficulty of changing their Facebook status from "single" to "it's complicated"? Then you'd have to explain in the comments section about why it's complicated and how y'all are working it out with a life coach and what you're doing on Tuesday. It's too much! And...can you really believe this person? Are they really not going to break your heart for the 23,936th time (too many times!)? You believed the last person and they totally broke your heart (for the 23,935th time); can you afford to be a sucker yet again?

I say yes! Well, maybe no. Or, yes on Tuesdays, but a no on Thursdays and a definite maybe on Fridays. 

I want to trust in love again some more, but as I get older, it's getting a little harder. I've seen and heard (and maybe done) some things that make me believe that this love thing is a trip. And despite what you've heard about therapists being emotionally well-rounded and able to communicate their feelings and express themselves clearly...well, okay, that's all true, but still, it doesn't make it less difficult to keep an open mind and an open heart. The struggle is real. And we're all a little jaded and baggage-full at this stage in our lives.

However, despite the struggle, I've decided that because it's a Saturday, I'm going to try my best to be a sucker again. I'm not going to lie; it's difficult to let go of the fear. I haven't released it all the way yet, but I'm willing to try. Hopefully, if my heart gets broken for a 23,936th time, I'll be able to survive it. 

Comfortably Miserable

Do you have that one friend/cousin/coworker that is perpetually miserable? The one where no matter how great things are for them, they manage to suck all the joy out of the experience? Yeah, you know who I'm talking about. They're probably sitting next to you, reading this over your shoulder right now, heavily sighing since they can't see it clearly because they need new glasses and they hate shopping for new glasses because they cost so much money for new frames and what if they don't pick the right pair for their face? Your conversations may go a little something like this:

You: You look great! Have you lost weight?
Whiney Complainerson: Yeah...but  none of my clothes fit and I have to buy a whole new wardrobe. Clothes cost money. 

You: Congrats on the promotion!
Whiney Complainerson: You know what they say - mo' money, mo' problems. Not to mention more responsibilities and higher expectations. I already feel stressed out just talking about it.

You: I like your new car!
Whiney Complainerson: It's great and all, but now I have a higher car note and the insurance has gone up.

You: I heard you have a new boo. Good for you!
Whiney Complainerson: Well, they have bad credit so I don't know how good they are for me really.

Clearly, they are a pleasure and a joy to be around. While some people are really good at finding the silver lining in most situations, this person only has eyes for the black clouds on the horizon, so much so, that they make sure they conjure some up when it's almost impossible to find any.

This may come as a shock but...once upon a time, I was this person. (If I am still like this, please send me a private message to screwyou@gmail.com.)

Here's my story: After finishing my master's degree, I decided to stay in New York (I hadn't hit quite all the bars yet and I still had some student loan money burning a hole in my pocket) and get a job. Although my intention was to work as a therapist, there were limited job opportunities available and I wound up taking a job as a program coordinator for an after-school program. It was a terrible job for me; it was nothing close to what I wanted to do and I quickly learned that working directly with behaviorally challenged children is not my forte. However, I kept a very positive attitude about it and complained minimally....so I believed. Color me shocked when my supervisor scoffed and actually said out loud "Ha! You?" when I shared with her my highly self-aware self-assessment of my nearly downright Pollyanna-ish demeanor in the work place!*

Was my misery that apparent? Why yes, yes it was.

Unbeknownst to me, I had become quite the Debbie Downer. Due to the sincere and deeply felt hateration for my job, nothing but complaints came out of my mouth. There was no way I could see out of my misery, making it incredibly difficult for me to put a positive spin on things. It was obvious that I had learned nothing in social work school (and an 80K refund was due to me immediately) about reframing and being strengths-based and blah, blah, blah, social work school mumbo jumbo words. Thankfully, I was eventually laid off and got to collect unemployment while I looked for and found the job I really wanted.

Despite the Disney ending to that story, my supervisor's words stuck with me. Since then, I've been working (sometimes hard, sometimes not so hard) at really trying to find the upside to some of the less happy-making situations in my life. As humans, it's very easy for us to focus on the negative. It takes a little more effort to find the positive side of things, especially when it seems like there are none. I challenge you (and myself) to start finding all the little silver linings in your life. Let's try:

Parking ticket? At least your $29,048 are going to improving the city.
Low on money? Now you'll have more time at home to work on those little projects you've been putting off! Or stop drinking....for real this time...no you really mean it because you can't afford to do it anymore.
Boss is a jerk? It could be worse...you could live next door to them or be related to them.

See? If we try hard enough, we can find an upside somehow. It takes practice and sometimes A LOT of creativity and imagination, but it is possible. It also makes life a little more pleasant when we focus on the brighter side of things. And if we can't find a brighter side, maybe that will motivate us to change our situation.



*Good thing we were on our way to happy hour because I could have been really offended by that and not having a drink to help me process those feelings could have made things awkward.

Poached Eggs

 

I ate poached eggs yesterday. The dish was a pork belly hash (mmmm, pork meat) with potatoes, onions and poached eggs. Although I hate to admit it, I'm that chick who wants everything on the side and can you please substitute this for that and hold the mayo on all of it (because reasons)? (We can talk all day about how if I'm paying for food, I should be able to have it the way I want, but that's another conversation at a different bar.) Yesterday, I left the dish as is. I did not ask if the eggs could be scrambled in organic butter or the potatoes to be gently salted with sea salt (preferably Mediterranean), with smoked ketchup (on the side, of course). The dish called for poached eggs and I ate it with poached eggs.

What does this mean? Do I now love my eggs to be runny?

Um, no. And ew. (I think scramble eggs would have been better. It would have also been better if the potatoes were cooked just a little bit longer - I ate them anyway. Minus the Mediterranean sea salt and smoked ketchup.) However, this small step was significant in that I am actively participating in trying to step out of my comfort zone. Lest you believe this a brand new phenomenon, you'd be wrong. Over the past few years, I've been gently encouraged (thanks Gastronami) to try other strange foods; I've tasted bone marrow, eaten sea urchin and became an avid lover of red wine by deciding to try something different. Now, I'm taking the next step - doing it by myself. It's easy to rely on others to push you, but to push yourself is the true challenge. Of course, this is not only about food; it's the other little things that we do all the time that keep us stagnant and cause us to plateau. I am making a commitment to not committing to the same old sh*t I've committed to for forever.

Could it be that I'm inspired by the new year? Am I making a resolution? Yikes.

Despite being resolution-averse, I do believe in the refresh button. It's a new year and why not try to incorporate some behaviors of the person I'm working on being? The trick is not to depend on it being January 1st (or Monday or the first of the month or the day after your Bar Mitzvah) to work on changing those behaviors or adapting  new ones. Every day when we wake up, it's a refresh button and we have the opportunity to do something completely different than the day before. So what are you going to do differently today?

I don't know that I'll always get poached eggs (and I'm going to refrain from ordering sea urchin again). But if the dish calls for it, I'm ordering it as is...unless it has dairy, gluten, non-organic butter, non-Mediterranean sea salt....dang, this is going to be quite the challenge!

Dating Houdini

You're reaching for the cinnamon to flavor your frozen no-whip soy caramel mochachocolatte when you meet eyes with the most beautifullest, good-lookingest person you've seen in a long time. They smile, you smile back and you know that an angel just got their wings for crossing your paths. I don't need to bore you with details of how you exchanged numbers, etc. as we all know this is a make believe kind of story - no one actually meets in real life. However, because I like to take a little creative license, let's just pretend this could happen for real. (It will be our little secret that you met through a blog for Chili Cheese Frito Lay chip lovers.)

So you and your new boo thang are having the best time getting to know each other. There's lots of laughter, flirty texts, fun dates, sweet kisses - you. are. having. a. ball. You have plenty in common; how many people do you know who can quote the very special Hennifer Lopez episode of South Park? Exactly, just you and that one friend who's kind of a weirdo (too). They like tacos, you like tacos! You love Wheezer, they know who (or what?) Wheezer is! Pretty soon, you're meeting each other's friends, planning weekends away, farting in front of each other...everything is sunshine and mermaid songs. And then it happens. Something so shocking, so unimaginable, that when it happens, you feel like you got sucker punched in the gut.

They disappear.

This person who's heard you fart* and with whom you spent several weekends perusing collections of antique catcher's masks and umpire whistles has disappeared. You became addicted to New Girl because they made you watch it every Tuesday (I mean, Winston is pretty hilarious)! You gave up bacon for 5 days because they were doing that cleanse (5 WHOLE DAYS)! You kept rocking your faux-hawk because they thought it was sexy! Most importantly, you let them meet your friends! And just as quickly as you started dating, you stop. The mermaid songs are but a faint memory of the glorious (and unexpectedly short) amount of time you spent together.

What's most frustrating is that it's such a stealth and gradual process, you don't even see it coming. There are subtle clues in which you might pick up on something, but they are so slight, you can easily dismiss it. You may also sound crazy if you were to bring it up. Maybe they aren't texting you as much. Maybe they didn't respond to that last email you sent with the link about Solange having Jay-Z's baby (I'm kidding, please don't kill me Illuminati). Perhaps they canceled your last date and oops, forgot to reschedule. On their own, these little shifts are nothing. People get busy and you most certainly don't want a boo bear who is up under you all the time. It's the collective of these behavioral changes that are troublesome.

Being that you're an adult, you feel it's immature to bring these seemingly benign-yet-noteworthy shifts to their attention via text. Unfortunately, it's become virtually impossible to get them in person or even on the phone. "Sugar grits, I'm so busy at work, it's been crazy! Let's connect soon though." "Honey baby sexy muffin, I'm so sorry we seen each other, but my dad's favorite second cousin Lenny is in town and I haven't seen him in 2 months. Rain check?" Before you know it, it's been 3 weeks since your last date.

You can't help but feel some kind of way. Confused? Angry? Sad? Frustrated? Disappointed? Yes, yes, yes, yes and hell yes. While you may not have dated long enough to make it to coupledom, enough time has passed for you to develop some feelings for them. For heaven sakes, you told them about your beanie baby collection (you weren't quite at the showing-it-to-them stage) and made them a macaroni necklace! At the very least, they should have the decency to acknowledge their disappearing act even if they can't/won't explain it.

That, my friends, is the difference between being an adult and being a damaged, insecure, cowardly kid (a.k.a. a DICK). It's being courageous enough to take responsibility for your feelings and behavior while recognizing how it impacts another person. There's no denying that it's not a fun or easy conversation to have - rejecting someone can be almost (I said almost) as painful as being rejected, especially if it's someone you care about and don't want to hurt. Moreover, you are also saving them from the pain of trying to figure out what happened and what they could have done differently. (Was it too soon for the macaroni necklace?) While it may not be a less hurtful and disappointing experience for them, it takes some of the sting out of being rejected and makes the healing process happen faster. Maybe they'll learn a thing or two about themselves as well.

And maybe, just maybe, they won't feel compelled to write a blog about how you presto-changoed into a DICK.

*Although similar events to those described in this blog may or may not have happened to me in the past week, I'd like to state for the record I did not fart in front of anyone. I am a shy farter.

The Disappearing Friend

The first time it happened, you had no idea what to expect. You knew things would change; they had been changing gradually over time, but there was no way you could truly prepare for what was ahead. You didn't know that it would be an ending - no more impromptu dinners, no more last-minute happy hours, no more vacations together. You couldn't have predicted that you would be replaced; after all, you and this other person get along really well and you've enjoyed their company. While there are millions of books about how to do just about anything, there isn't a book for this. So when you get the news, you're absolutely overjoyed.

Your close/best friend is getting married!

That's great and amazing especially since their boo is really a great person for them and they are great people and when people are a couple of them...it's fabulous. Since you are a close/best friend, it's even fabulouser because you get to be in their wedding. That's always fun (the first time around)! Not to mention the bachelor/ette party! It's going to a be a good time and once they're married, everything will be how it's supposed to be - you (single) + bestie (married) + bff's spouse = one big happy family. And if they have some babies...an even bigger, happier family. Yay!

At least that's how it looks in your imagination.

When they were dating, you noticed that some things had changed between you and your friend. They didn't have nearly as much free time and they started a lot of their sentences with "we". The annual friend trip to somewhere hedonistic fun got cut down to a weekend and was redubbed the golf/spa/jazz festival trip. That's okay; we can't keep partying in Vegas forever (although this may be predicated on how ratchet you are). However, since they got married, it seems like they've almost disappeared. Phone calls don't get returned, plans get cancelled or rescheduled and it seems that they have joined this mysterious organization called Other Couples. Since you don't have a boo/significant other/partner/spouse, you are not invited to participate in the things you previously enjoyed with your friend.

It's not malicious (so I hope) or even intentional; you're just in different places in life. While you may be saving up for the new Jordans/a boat/Michael Bolton tickets, they're saving up for a house/midwife/mini-van (by the way, if you are saving up for a mini-van, tell no one), which is clearly more adult and serious. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want, and they have to check in with the family calendar to make sure they have a couple of hours to play a round of golf or grab a bite to eat. It's impossible to relate to one another anymore at this point. Actually, there's a mandate that says all married people must stop consorting with single people as it may give rise to jealousy and possibly engaging in freedom-seeking behavior (it's the allure of the do-what-you-want-when-you-want benefit of singlehood).

I kid.

Truthfully, it all depends on the strength and importance of your friendship before your friend got married. It can be very easy to blame their marriage on the reason they disappeared, but upon further reflection, you may realize they weren't actually that great a friend to begin with. Marriage/children gives them a ready-made excuse for why they don't call you back or can't seem to make it to game nights and birthdays. On the other hand, some people truly value their friendships and find the greatest support of their marriage is within their friendships. I've heard that first and seventh year can be rough!

Also, let's look at the single friend. Sometimes we assume that once a friend gets married they can't don't want to do the same things as their single friends. Sure, it may now be inappropriate for them to take their tops off at the bar, but they still want to go to happy hour! We have to be careful about the assumptions we make regarding their marriage. Are you supportive of your friend and their marriage? Are you interested in knowing their spouse, having a relationship with their children? If not, that's fine; just don't be upset when you see them less and less. And if you are one of those bitter, butt hurt single people, constantly disparaging relationships, you may not be the best person to include at a dinner party, especially if the Other Couples group is there.

So, if you find that you are the single friend, it's important to cut your married friend some slack, at least in the beginning. They are not trying to ignore you - they are adjusting to their new role as someone's spouse and that comes with a sh*tload of responsibilities. If some time has passed and your friend still hasn't returned, call them on it, let them know that their friendship is important to you and you miss them. Married people - it's very easy to get caught up in your life with your partner and maybe eventually children. Time is precious for sure and it feels like you have little of it. However, these are the friends who knew you before you assumed these other identities* and they're here to support and love you...and they also need it reciprocated. It may feel like a lot of effort given everything else on your plate, but just a little bit of effort goes a long way.




*Don't forget that they have lots of stories and pictures about you before you were a serious adult spouse parent...many of which would totally undermine that identity.

Don't Give Up!

You bite the bullet and go on Match/OkStupid/EHarmony. Just like everyone else, you're looking for hot sex on a platter love. It's been rough in real life - your best friend's boo refuses to join a team or club of some kind so they can find the love of your life and the bar scene is so played, especially since you joined the over-thirty crowd (very recently, thank you). You work tirelessly, creating the perfect profile, looking for the one who fits this description:

WANTED: Someone who's smart, compassionate, thoughtful, funny and appreciates the way I eat with chopsticks left-handedly and believes that bacon should be its own food group. Idris Elba doppelganger preferred but not required.

Finally, after several misadventures (like the guy who whipped out a list of things to talk about), you get exactly what you're looking for. He even looks kinda like Idris...if you squint your eyes and turn the lights down super low and have a shot or two of tequila...but still, everything else is in order. They are thoughtful, they get your jokes (obviously they are super smart), and love that you can eat bacon with left-handed chopsticks. It's like you went to the Burger King of dating and you got it your way.

Except...they still aren't the right one.

Your friends throw themselves prostrate on the floor because they're so tired of your pickiness. "What's wrong with this one?" they exclaim. You shake your head because you can't explain it. You have given it so much thought, talked about it excessively with the 38L Geary bus driver; if there is anyone who is tired of your pickiness, it's you! You want hot sex on a platter love for yourself just as much as they want it for you! And this person is great, wonderful, marvelous, has everything you want...on paper. Despite matching most, if not all of your most vital criteria, there is something missing. It's that indescribable, intangible thing that goes beyond physical attraction (and the desire to do naughty things to them).

Love is a tricky thing. If you're lucky, you meet someone who has most of the qualabilities you want, you fall in love and go on to conquer the world together (or at least Sudoku in the Sunday newspaper). Although there truly is an element of luck involved - you have to be at the right place, at the right time both literally and figuratively - it all sounds pretty easy. But what happens when you meet that person, they have all the right things and they do absolutely nothing for your heart?

Some people say "F*ck it. They have all the things I say I want and I'll just make it work. I'm tired of sitting at the kiddy table at all these goddamn weddings I'm going to all the time." (No judgment, but it does make one wonder if that has anything to do with the 50% divorce rate in this country. It's just a kiddy table for one night!) However, I believe that in picking your mate, it takes a lot of courage to follow your heart, even if it seems like it's speaking to you in a foreign language. If this person, regardless of how wonderfully awesome they are, is not for you, it's not fair to keep them because you're afraid there isn't anyone out there for you. Or because they like you more than you like them. Or because they make sense...on paper. Just like you, they deserve someone who has those indescribable, intangible feelings for them.

And hopefully, that leads to lots of hot sex on a platter.

*You're welcome for the Idris links.

Moving On

My boyfriend has a baby.

Okay, technically, he's not my boyfriend. We were in a relationship in 2005, a situationship for part of 2006, an "it's complicated" sprinkled in between (which is really just code for sporadically knocking boots when I was in town) and a do-over in 2010. As evidenced by various blog posts, you may have deduced that the do-over led to an it's-over, so I guess I should rephrase my original statement.

My ex-boyfriend has a baby.

Actually, I believe that most of my exes have babies now. Some of them even have wives (at least I think so, but I'm not absolutely sure this is a true statement so don't quote me). However, when I discovered that this one had a baby, it made me feel some kind of way. Maybe that's why I referred to him as my boyfriend, even though it's been a long time since we've even seen each other, naked or otherwise. I can't quite put my finger on what that feeling was, but it was visceral. It was like that feeling you get when you're getting a shot at the doctor's office - you know that it doesn't really hurt, but there's a sense of dread anyway.

What was I dreading exactly? In all the years of knowing each other, we haven't spent much time actually being in a relationship. We've danced around it, we've played at it, we've pretended that this time was different, but in reality, we were only meant to know each other. While there is/was a connection that could not be denied, we wanted different things and we were incompatible in some very fundamental ways (I liked Jimmy Fallon, he preferred Conan - you can't ignore that). When things finally, truly, for really ended, it was a relief. I'd given it one last shot and could close the door. Not only did I close it, I cemented over it, then put bricks over the cement to the point where you couldn't even see that a door existed.

At least that's what I thought...until I saw that picture of his cutie pie chubby-cheeked baby.

Most of us have experienced a breakup or 12 in our life times. Sometimes we did it, sometimes it was done to us, but we keep on living and we eventually get over them. However, there may be one or two people in your past who took up permanent residence in your heart (which may be totally against your will). Although you've moved on and have no delusions about how wrong you are for one another, there's still a part of you that can't quite picture them being with anyone else. Clearly, my boyfriend ex moved on and I'm sincerely, truly, very happy for him. Buuuuuut, despite not wanting to be with him or for us to get back together, there is a small part of me, so small and so secret that I didn't even know it was there until now, that thought of him as forever mine.

I want all the cookies in the cookie jar, even the ones I don't want!

While I've been out here, dating folks, getting hooked on sexy heroin and whatnot, he has been frozen in an emotional time warp, where I could go back to him when I wanted, if I wanted. Oh, I know it sounds absolutely ridiculous and totally unfair; how could I expect him to be waiting in the wings just in case I decide I might want to think about maybe considering the thought of the possibility of one more do-over in the distant but maybe nearer than you think future? (Well I did, but it doesn't really count because I didn't know that was what I was doing.) Intellectually, I get that both parties move on; I have moved on several many times at this point. I guess I wasn't emotionally prepared to see that it manifested in such an obvious way.

Especially since I didn't get there first. Y'all know I'm competitive!