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Wednesday, July 09, 2008

The Tragicomedy

I am in my books, in my head at the present moment. It is easier to be in those pages, than to be living outside of them right now. My heart aches – a superficial heartache, really. It’s not as if we had anything substantial. It aches because I doubt we will have anything substantial at all. The various voices that cautioned me are whispering a soft “I told you so” in my ear, and yet I still attempt to drown them out, refusing to listen, refusing to gain any perspective whatsoever.

I have come to realize that this is the story of my life… this scenario of unrequited love. This is what destiny has in store for me. I am still torn as to whether I should embrace this fate or rebel against it. But how can one even rebel against one’s own destiny? Won’t one’s actions eventually lead him to that fate? The rebellion acting only as a guise, an intermission to the true act.

Forbidden love. Lately, this has been the topic of choice. Mostly because of Stephenie Meyer’s novels Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse. The heroine Bella falls in love with a vampire. The lamb falls in love with the lion. Now, my love story, is nowhere near as dramatic, as dangerous, or as mythical, unless you count the events of my imagination, but it certainly is forbidden. We do love what we cannot have. And the more we deny it, the more we restrict ourselves, the more we yearn and desire. It is only natural to want what’s beyond our grasp, as if it is a challenge to ourselves - a method of measuring our own worth.

I have been struggling with my integrity. I refuse to be the “other woman,” but that is a lie. A large part of me would jump at the opportunity to be with him, in any way. Does that make me a bad person? Does that make me desperate? Does that make me less than what I’m worth.

I know I deserve to be with someone who wants me as much as I want him, but I can’t seem to rationalize. I keep telling myself I can handle the pain, if it comes to that… more like, WHEN it comes to that. Wouldn’t the smarter thing be to let go before the threshold of pain even appears? My brain is saying “duh,” but my heart is saying “no.” True love means suffering. It’s like working out. No pain no gain.

The romances we read in high school are beginning to look a lot more deceiving at this stage in my life. Being a romantic does not mean all hearts and flowers anymore, but rather all heartaches and wilting flowers. Romance is tragedy. I’d rather get my hands on a comedy.

I can probably transform this into one. That would be easy. Comedy is cliché. I have fallen in love with my personal trainer. How much more cliché can that get? That is the queen of all that is predictable. But I am an inherently fatalistic thinker. I look for the ending, the conclusion, so this comedy will be dark, a tragicomedy.

I haven’t been to the gym in the past two days. This is going to be day three. Tomorrow, day four. Is it obvious that I am avoiding him? I feel slighted. I had given him a meaningfully meaningless present last week. His girlfriend asked why he would be getting presents from me, so naturally, he gave it to his younger sister, to demonstrate that the present means nothing to him. I am avoiding him. He will see it in my eyes, the lost luster. I do not want to give myself away, more than I already have. So I am taking solace in books and stories.

And I thought it would be a safe haven, but the funny thing is HE has a part in all of them: a name, a manner, an action. There is no running away this time. I am bound. “[His] hold on me is permanent and unbreakable.”

Labels: working out

Sunday, June 22, 2008

The Y Paradox

I am staring at a blank page trying to figure out how to put him into words, or more accurately, how I'm going to put my feelings for him into words.

I never expected to feel this way. I never expected for any of this to happen. I keep wondering if I deserve more than this. It's not that he's mistreating me. I think I'm mistreating myself, by allowing myself to fall in love with someone who is beyond reach. He's the right person, and yet, he's also the wrong person. What is that? Irony? Paradox. He is both.

I weave my own web. The very fact that he's a flirt does not rid me of my duty to respect him and his girlfriend. I should not gloat from the attention he gives me. I am better than that, but I am as weak as they come. Another paradox.

On Friday night, we all went out dancing at Club CocoBongo in Elizabeth. Me, him, his sister, their cousins, and ofcourse his girlfriend. I still had to train with him for a few hours before we went out, and that time with him only aggravated my feelings for him. I don't know what was going through my mind. I was looking forward to going out with him to a club. I knew that I probably wouldn't dance with him. That was a fact. But I wanted to be part of his life outside the treadmills and the weights.

At first, I thought it wasn't going to happen. K called me and said the girls didn't want to go anymore. I had just gotten home from the gym and gotten out of the shower. 10 minutes later, she called back and told me to be ready by 11.
I rang the doorbell. My heart was beating like crazy when I heard him running down the stairs saying "I'm coming." He opened the door.

"Wow." First words out of his mouth. "You look really good."

I blushed, "Thank you."

He steps back to let me in and puts his hands on his waist. "So, this is the real me. Meet Y. You like?"

I wanted to say that I liked the Y at the gym. I wanted to say ofcourse I liked. I wanted to say a whole lot of other inappropriate things.

But all I said was that I only knew the Y I met at the gym, but that this was an improvement. I smiled and ran upstairs to join the rest of the girls. His girlfriend wasn't up there. She was most likely getting ready in his room. I was so glad that I didn't have to face her yet.

Everyone was getting ready in K's sister's room and I was sitting on the bed, practicing my Spanish with G. "Tu (umm) hair... es bonita." Y came into the room and asked me how my leg was doing. Earlier that night during training, he diagnosed me with shin splints. I started feeling the pain since Monday, but didn't say anything since I thought I was simply sore from the workout. Well, when I limped over to him, I got yelled at for not telling him sooner, because I could potentially get a fracture.

I told him I was fine, pointing my toes, explaining that I could even rock heels. Then he gave me THAT look, the half smirk, half raised eyebrows, half you're cute, half you're dumb LOOK. He got down on one knee. My heart skipped a beat. He started rolling up my jeans. I protested, "Y, what are you doing?!" I was afraid everyone could see my emotions straight away if he touched me, but he ignored my protests and started pressing down on my leg and massaging it.

This was not good. I didn't want him to stop, but I didn't want his girlfriend to walk in with him giving my leg a rubdown. Honestly, who does that? Perhaps it was an entirely innocent act for him. That's where boys are oblivious to rules of borders. That was crossing the line. We weren't at the gym. If we were, it would have been an entirely different story.

I'm pretty sure K's friend, who was sitting next to me, also thought Y's actions pretty strange and suspicious. I finally shook him off after a few minutes, and he only stopped with my promise that I would ice my leg in the car on the way to the club.

When G commented that I was losing weight, Y ofcourse took all the credit for it and called me his protege. I am so love with him.

We were finally on our way. I ended up sitting next to his girlfriend, but I stayed my sweet, friendly, charming Michelle self. The car ride was fun, UNTIL I saw Y reach back and hold his girlfriend's hand for a minute. I looked out the window. It happened twice. I felt myself closing in. I felt myself beginning to hyperventilate. What the hell was I doing? What was I thinking? How could I even think that I could handle witnessing them actually BE TOGETHER?

I vowed that this was going to be the last time. I would make it through the night. I just needed to breathe and ignore them.

We got to club. K's cousins passed around shots of aguardiente poured from 1 liter Aquafina bottles. I was ready to get wasted. After only 1 shot, I felt the alcohol surging through me. I was ready to get loose. I was in the zone. This club was exactly what I needed. It was crazy. In the middle of the dance floor, there was this bubble maker machine hanging from the ceiling... so people basically got soaked/soaped.

We started out on the outskirts of the dance floor, but everyone decided to move into the middle. I was following K, and Y was behind me followed by E, his gf. We started dancing. Our shoulders rubbed against one another. Our fingers grazed together. He was dancing closer and closer to me. I was moving further away. E got in front of him, dancing in between us. When E gave him some room on the dance floor, he would be right back next to me. This was the formula for the rest of the night.

I think I only looked at him maybe once or twice all night. I couldn't handle it, so I avoided it. I danced with a guy. But I knew exactly what I was doing. I saw him watching me. I wasn't going to allow him to ruin my night, but I knew that I was playing hard to get.

At one point, we were all in a circle, jumping up and down. E was standing next to me, so we were holding on to each other. Then Y moved her out of the way, and the two of us ended up holding hands instead. Every touch from him makes my heart beat uncontrollably. I thought I was going to pass out.

But I guess that's all I get. I don't get the whole thing. I get the small moments. The accidents. The leftovers? And I don't think I want that. But at the same time, I can't seem to get enough of it. That is the Y Paradox.

Labels: working out

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Can you gain heart weight?

We’ve only been training together for 22 days, but I am falling in love with him. My overactive imagination has already presented various scenes of us as a couple, making dinner together, with him chastising me about the glob of butter I’m about to drop into the pan, and me not giving a damn, telling him that dishes need butter the way we need one another.

I’m imagining that I’m in a relationship with him. When we train in the early morning (6am) before work, I pretend that we’re working out as a couple.

This is not good. This is not healthy. This is a form of self torture. I really am a masochist.

I keep reminding myself that he has a girlfriend. That he’s been with her since November. But I’m human… and inherently selfish. So I continue to pretend that she doesn’t exist, that she’s not in the picture. I don’t want her presence to enter my time with him. If I recall her, then I would feel so wrong for feeling the way I feel. She existed only in the periphery, as a figment of the imagination, a ghost, intangible – until Monday.

Monday morning, I carpooled to work with his sister. It was her turn to drive, so I just relaxed in the passenger seat, wishing it were still the weekend, dreading the work waiting for me at my desk. She didn’t know about how I felt about her brother. I was afraid that it would somehow alter our friendship, so when she started talking about him in the car, beads of sweat started to form on my forehead. She told me that Y was telling her that he was really proud of me, because I was taking it really seriously, and because I ran on the treadmill for 20 min straight without taking a walking break. So that definitely put a smile on my face. I was safe. She didn’t speculate a thing.

Then she said, “You two are spending a lot of time together. What if you fall in love? You would be in my family!”

My heart stopped. I shifted my weight on the seat, and in a shaky voice, I told her “No, that’s not going to happen. He has a girlfriend.” She knew.

I didn’t know how to navigate how I felt about this. Should I have been anxious that she somehow discovered the secret I’ve been keeping for the past two weeks, or should I smile at the fact that she sounded pretty happy about me being a part of her family?

I decided I was a little bit of both, and spent the rest of the day walking around on cloud 9. I was untouchable. I was in love.

When I got to the gym that afternoon, I felt like I could run 10 miles on the treadmill, until I actually ran 2.25 miles and thought I was going to pass out. I flirted shamelessly. I laughed, batted my lashes, smiled when I saw him smile at something I said or did. This could actually be something.

But the apparition appeared. The gym was already closed. I just finished lifting weights, when she walked through the door. My heart dropped. So this was her, no longer in the periphery, materializing in front of me.

I introduced myself to her and Y introduced her as his girlfriend, leaned over to give her a kiss, and told me that they talked about me all the time.

I think I went deaf when he kissed her. Space was closing in on me. I needed to get out of there. I stayed friendly and charming, but I think my body language revealed how uncomfortable I was. He was still talking to me as I made my way to the door. That night, I had four delirious scoops of ube ice cream.

I wish I never met her. Her existence in the outskirts of my mind were working out for me. I was able to enjoy my time with him without guilt. But now, she’s real to me. The fact that he’s taken is real. The fact that I could potentially be destroying something is realer than real.

I was advised to treat this as an impossibility. It’s proving to be a difficult task. Probably because I’m not executing it whole heartedly. Maybe I’ll snap out of it.

Or maybe not. I’ve lost a little over 10 pounds since we’ve started training. But I think I’ve gained a lot of weight in my heart.

Labels: working out

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Tuesday Tidings - 10JUN

Listening to

To The Spill Canvas’ All Hail the Heartbreaker

This song is so representative of my relationship with Y. I have to listen to it at least once every time I’m at the gym. It gets me so pumped. Below, I’ve included some notes as to how the lyrics apply to my crush.

This song is so representative of my relationship with Y. I have to listen to it at least once every time I’m at the gym. It gets me so pumped. Below, I’ve included some notes as to how the lyrics apply to my crush.

I had the notion that you'd make me change my ways (getting off my lazy butt)
An the bad habits would be gone in a matter of days (overeating)
I had the feeling that you'd open up my eyes (and my heart)
To a whole new world that had since been in disguise (the gym)

But that day will most likely never come for me
And it's just my luck to end up getting stuck
To everything you are (so true)

So tonight I'll sit and pick apart your pictures
And overanalyze your words
The truth is that I've never fallen so hard (!)
It's taken everything in me
Just to forget your sweater so far (your sweats so far)

I had the notion that you'd make me forget the world
But your undecisive mind shows me that
You are "just another girl" (just another guy)
I had the feeling that those looks you gave me were real (and muscle flexes)
What if I ripped your heart apart at the seams
Maybe then you'd know how I feel

But that day will most likely never come for me
And it's just my luck to end up getting stuck
To everything you are

So tonight I'll sit and pick apart your pictures
And overanalyze your words
The truth is that I've never fallen so hard
It's taken everything in me
Just to forget your sweater so far

I can honestly say
That I never, ever, ever felt this way
Your lips, your eyelashes, your skin (your lips, your biceps, your…:X)
These are the parts of your body
That cause my comatose to begin

I can honestly say
That I never, ever, ever felt this way
Your lips, your eyelashes, your skin (your lips, your biceps, your…:X)
These are the parts of your body
That cause my comatose to begin

I will sleep another day
I don't really need to anyway
What's the point when my dreams are infected
With words you used to say
I will breathe in a moment
As long as I keep my distance
I wouldn't want to go messing anything up

So don't go worrying about me
It's not like I think about you constantly
So maybe I do, but that shouldn't affect
Your life anymore
I knew it the moment you walked into the door

So don't go worrying about me
It's not like I think about you constantly
So maybe I do, but that shouldn't affect
Your life anymore
I knew it the moment you walked into the door

I'll let you get the best of me
Because there's nothing else that I do well
I'll let you get the best of me
Because there's nothing else that I do well

I'll be the giver and you'll be the taker
I guess that's how this one's gonna go
I'll be the giver and you'll be the taker
You've got me down on my knees and I proclaim
All hail the heartbreaker

Enjoying

My workout sessions with Y. He’s really pushing me beyond my limit. I whine and complain, but in truth, I’m grateful to him and proud of myself. I love that he tells me that he sees so much potential in me. There’s definitely some flirting going on, but I really am trying to control my emotions. I even declined his offer to stretch out on Sunday. It’s too touchy feely. It’s just so hard, especially since I feel extremely comfortable around him. Last night after my cardio workout, we just hung out and talked for an hour. He was telling me he went to culinary school, but couldn’t handle the pressure. Said he would make me pasta with vodka sauce. I really enjoy his company and by the way our conversation just flowed from topic to topic, it seems like he really enjoys mine too. But I don’t know how to interpret it. In fact, I don’t think I should even try to interpret that as anything more than friend talk.

But you know what’s weird… not once has he mentioned his girlfriend to me. My friend K (his sister) mentions it all the time, which is why I’m beginning to think that she senses that I have feelings for him.

Anticipating

My trip to Aruba with C and J! I cannot cannot wait. From August 8 – 14, I will be in the middle of paradise.

Hoping

My Celtics win tonight! Game 3 against the LA Lakers. I hope that rapist Kobe Bryant gets fouled out of the game.

Craving

Ice cream. Cheese. White rice. Steak. Pork. Potatoes. Y’s nutrition plan is nuts, literally. All I can eat are nuts! But I’ve lost 5 lbs. in ten days, so it’s definitely paying off.

Labels: Weekly Tidings

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Working Out My Heart

I am falling for my trainer. In any other situation, in any other life, this would be the source of a great romance, or at least the context of a hot, summer fling. But of course in my specific circumstance, this is far from good news.

A few weeks ago, after knowledge that my friend S had a trainer to bulk himself up, I decided it was time for me to get motivated. I resolved to lose 50 lbs. in a year, an ambitious task, especially for someone like me. Food, lately, has come to the center of my life. I plan my week, my day, by what’s going to be on my plate. I figured it was time for a change. The real spark was lit after my cousin C and I decided that we would vacation in the Caribbean this summer. The best thing you can bring to the Caribbean is a hot body, so I decided to get myself a trainer.

And just my luck, my friend’s brother worked at a gym in town and agreed to train me. Our first session was last Thursday. It’s only been a week; we’ve only met a total of four times; and I already feel as though my heart is inches from the ground. I am hanging on by a thread.

He is handsome, has muscles, kind, has muscles, intelligent, has muscles, funny… did I mention he has muscles? I’m only joking… I don’t just like him for his body. In fact, I think the main reason why my heart is taking an extra beat every time we’re together, is because he genuinely wants to help. Of course, he is my trainer and getting paid to help me lose weight, but the more time we spend together, the more he’s turning into a good friend.

I feel a real connection with him, as though we met previously in a past life, or had known each other forever. I’m not sure if it’s just his personality, but I feel so comfortable with him, even though I smell like sweat every when we're together.

I wonder if I feel this way because I allowed myself to be vulnerable around him. My weight, my body, is personal to me. It is a sensitive issue, and I usually keep my insecurities about it to myself. So he’s really the first person, the first guy that I’ve opened up to about how unhappy I am with my body. And I guess it just amazed me that he didn’t judge me at all, that he is supportive, and that he applauds that I’ve resolved to do something good for myself.

He sounds like the guy in every girl’s dreams. What? Someone who actually treats you like a person, regardless of the fact that you wear a size 2 or a size 12? You may be wondering, so what’s the problem? If he’s hot, why don’t I just go for it?

This is where the family curse comes into play. I believe the women in my family are cursed with falling for impossible men, unattainable men, the perfect man who is too good to be true.

Because I know it won’t work out, I’ve listed some reasons below to help me wean my heart away from his biceps:
1) He is my trainer. Hooking up with your trainer, while it may be hot, is entirely unprofessional. But it’s still hot.
2) His sister is a very good friend of mine. If it didn’t work out, I wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship.
3) He has a girlfriend. And from what I’ve heard and from what I know, he is not the type of guy who would cheat on his girlfriend. I wouldn’t be falling for that type of guy anyway.
4) He would never go for someone like me. I know I previously wrote that he didn’t judge me, but someone as hot as he is would never go for someone as fat as me. It would throw off the balance of the world.
5) I could be imagining our connection. I mean, I am paying him, so of course he has to be nice to me.
6) He is probably turned off by how lazy I am and the all unhealthy (albeit, five star quality) food that I eat.

Ok, I think I’m going to end the list there. It’s starting to depress me.

I'm conflicted. I don't know what to do. I don't want him to stop being my trainer, but then again, I don't want to end up getting hurt.

Labels: working out

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Bittersweet, minus the sweet part

So I am officially old... 25 years old... a quarter of a century old... that's a fourth of 100 years. And if yesterday is going to represent the culmination of 25 years or of the future to come, I don't think life is going to be too great.

My friend A at work told me that I would remember this day forever. She told me that as I grew older, I would definitely look back at what I did for my 25th birthday. And since it would go down in history, I should be out celebrating... having a good time.

My ex-best friend F and I are still not on good terms, so dinner plans with friends were cancelled about two weeks ago when the whole drama with her started. I thought I would at least spend time with my family... have dinner with my parents and little brother. But ofcourse, that got ruined. My mom pissed me off, and so I celebrated my birthday locked up in my room downing six shots of tequila with some tortilla chips and chili con queso. What an excellent welcome to the silver club.

There was nothing bittersweet about it. It was just... bitter, in the worst imaginable way.

F did drop off a present though, something she and R made, a calendar of pictures of all our friends and some friendship quotes. I haven't decided yet if it's sincere or if it's meant to be a slap in the face. She didn't call me for two weeks after I had called her to try and resolve things. And honestly, I think it's pretty arrogant for her to assume that some sentimental gift is going to make everything ok. I called her today, to try and feel out if she wanted to talk... and it sounded like she just wanted to get rid of me. I'm a bit confused. Does she want to be my friend or not? Does that present even have any meaning or value, especially since she's been treating me like shit?

It's hard... I feel it already, thinking of having to go through life on my own. It scares me, but I guess, in the back of my head, I knew that things would always end up that way. It's just that the realization of it is weighing me down. I feel dead. At 25. Dead.

I think it's time for me to start talking to someone again. No one is there. I scroll through the numbers on my phone, and there's no one to call. No one to spend a Saturday with.

I do such a great job of pushing everyone away. This is my fate. It's time for me to embrace it.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Tuesday Tidings - 13MAY

Worrying

I got into a little fight with my best friend F on Saturday, and things between us are still a little shaky. Granted, I was probably the first person who overreacted, but regardless of that, I don't think the response I got from her today was warranted.

So the story begins with some Facebook pictures and a USB drive. Earlier that week, she had asked me to load some pictures onto her USB drive, because the ones she downloaded from Facebook had crappy resolution. I said I would get to it by sometime that week. When Friday comes around, I told her I’d get it done by Saturday.

The following is a list of my activities on Saturday:
1) P.S. I love you
2) America’s Next Top Model – Cycle 10 – Episode 6
3) America’s Next Top Model – Cycle 10 – Episode 7
4) America’s Next Top Model – Cycle 10 – Episode 8
5) America’s Next Top Model – Cycle 10 – Episode 9

I had a choice between the items above, and a first date with K (see section “”). So as you can see, I had a pretty eventful day. Thank goodness for S, who called and asked if I wanted to do some shopping. I’m always up for shopping, so I told him I’d be ready around 6. I wanted to invite F to go with us, so I gave her a call, and literally at the moment the connection was made, I hear a whining/screaming voice on the other end interrogating me about the pictures on the USB drive.

I was kind of taken aback. I had no idea that the world was going to end if I did not load these pictures onto the USB drive. I had no idea it was linked to catastrophe. Had I known, I would have gotten it done ASAP. So I told her "You didn’t tell me that you needed this urgently. I thought I had some time to get it done."

And avoiding the answer, she said that I promised to get it done yesterday (Friday). So ofcourse I replied that I made no such promises, that my closest promise I made was that I would try to get it done by Saturday. And the digital clock on my phone confirmed that it was, still, Saturday.

Not in the mood for such drama, I told her I couldn’t talk and had to go. I immediately set out to load the pictures onto her USB drive. I was working quickly. The world was about to end. Halfway into the project (15 minutes) she barges into my room. I am now even more pissed off. Wasn't it clear that by haphazard goodbye on the phone meant that I did not want to talk to her, much less see her?

I guess I understand her behavior somewhat. A few days earlier she was telling me that she wanted us (her friends) to tell her directly if they had a problem with her. And I told her, that I already did that anyway, if it were serious. So I that by coming to my house, she was trying to be proactive in dealing with the problem. That only works if both parties are ready. I was still annoyed, emotional. I need my space and some time. Had she given that to me, I probably would have shrugged it off. But by coming to my house, uninvited, and forcing me to talk, she only exacerbated the situation.

I didn't even look at her face or respond to anything she was saying, which angered her. She stormed out of my house saying that she didn't need the pictures anymore and that she'd work with what she already had.

It all sounds pretty juvenile after the fact. And I do admit that I did overreact, however I also see that I was not the only one at fault here. So I gave her a call today.

I asked her if she could talk. She said yes. I asked her if she was sure, since I knew she was studying. She said yes, yes. So I told her three things:
1) I didn't appreciate that she didn't respect my space. She barged right into my room, expecting that I was ready or wanted to talk, when I wanted nothing of the sort.
2) She never made her expectations clear. I didn't appreciate getting scolded for something I didn't know was an important matter. Had I known, I would've done it right away.
3) Her tone of voice and her demeanor that day really hurt me. I called her to ask her to hang out, and before I even got a chance to ask, she was down my throat about the pictures. I was actually supposed to be out on a date, but she never even asked why I was home. It was inconsiderate and it led me to think she only cares about herself.

Silence followed. I was waiting for her response. I said, well that's all I have to say. More silence. I said ok. She said ok. And the call ended.

I don't know what kind of game she's playing. We've been friends for over 10 years and she's never given me the silent treatment. She could be doing this to show me how I treated her on Saturday, which is petty. Too petty. And besides, I made it clear on Saturday I was not ready to talk. During the call, I asked her if she was able to talk - I even gave her the opportunity to say yes or no. She said yes. And to be totally unresponsive is, just, cruel. I even apologized and told her that I was sorry for overreacting, and it was met with silence. That's like, giving someone your heart, and then watching them eat it.

I wonder how this will unfold. I'm definitely NOT in a birthday mood because of this mess.

Anticipating

The Rebecca Minkoff Sample Sale. Preview night for family and friends (yes me! 'cause I'm a fellow TPF-er) is tomorrow night. There's nothing like a good dose of retail therapy to bring you to a brighter mood.

Loving

How nice the weather has been lately. The sun's warmth on my skin always brings a smile to my face.

Turning Into

An NBA fan. Go Celtics!!

My cousin has made it her mission to turn me into a "boy" or at least to learn how to speak "boy." I've watched almost every playoff game since the second round started. I get mad at the refs for making bad calls. My toes are on edge every time a field goal attempt is made. I yell "Rebound" at the t.v. The words paint, lane, and screen have totally different meanings.

However unlike her, Thursdays will always be a night for Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy. 50/50!

Regretting

I was supposed to go out on a date on Saturday, but that didn't work out because I'm weird.

K made plans with me to finally meet up for lunch on Saturday. I said yeah sure, give me a call. So he gave me a call a week before, and I was out having dinner with friends at the time. It was too late for me to call him back so I waited until the next day. I think I just have this weird hesitation about making the first phone call, so I ended up texting him while watching the playoffs. That was Thursday night. Our text conversation ended with "Im checking in. Gotta get up early. We talk 2morrow?" I responded "Ok. Have a good night."

I assumed that meant he would call me the next day, but he didn't call. And I felt strange calling him and asking about plans for Saturday. If he really wanted to go out, wouldn't he have called? I guess the same argument could be made in his defense against me.

So now I'm kind of regretting my timidity. I probably would have met a great guy and made a good friend. I resolve from this point forward, to be more courageous. One is only timid if she does not know what she wants. I think I know. I know I know. :)

Labels: Weekly Tidings

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Tuesday Tidings - 6MAY

Reminiscing

Last night, I was looking through my high school yearbook. I almost drowned from the wave of nostalgia. To a surfer, it would’ve been like riding a Maverick, or wiping out from one.

All the seniors were given a space to include a list of their high school activities and a little message. I wrote the following:

And I wonder …
If everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again …

Bonus points to the person who knows the source of those words.

It was late afternoon. Late Spring. Early Summer. I forget. We were in his car, driving down the street away from my house. We must have been going out to play pool or eat pizza. It's all irrelevant really, those details. The moment was in the car. Heading west up the street, we reached a lull, a valley in the road. It was early twilight. In its extremity, I imagined only seeing gray pavement on the windshiled, as if we were running into a wall. But like all illusions, the scene broke, and we hit a stop sign.

He looked right, always a cautious driver, flashing a sweet and innocent smile. No teeth. I called it a secret grin. Controlled joy. Secret joy. A toothy grin would have taken away from the serenity of the moment. A toothless smile gave away just enough charm for the smile to be memorable.

So he smiled. And I smiled back and looked forward. And the wall of pavement was gone. I remember a soft wash of pink and light orange on the sky and wispy clouds, behind a sillhouette of trees and houses. The warm yet breezy afternoon air filled the car with this magical tension one only feels when the moment is visceral.

In front of us, the sun was setting slowly. And I heard the words "And I wonder, when I sing along with you / If everything could ever feel this real forever / If anything could ever be this good again …" syncing up with this short moment in time, with the car crossing the stop sign in the middle of our quiet suburb.

It was a moment so mundane, yet so beautiful and perfect that it was beyond magical. It's one of those pages you tear from a magazine to store as a keepsake for the sheer fact that you were left captivated.

I chose those words to be my message in the yearbook because of the moment I shared with A, the simple happiness of being friends with him that afternoon. That's what high school was. That's what it will always be. A captivating moment.

I think what I miss about high school the most is the simplicity and purity in our happiness, in our friendships, in our lives. I am able to say that right now, at this moment in time, I have happiness in my life, but that happiness will honestly never compare to what I had in high school. It was a different life then, a life I would truthfully, if give the chance, want to relive.

Don't others share this same yearning for the past, or a past that represented itself as utopian? But the truth of the matter is, my high school experience was far from utopian. So why do I yearn for that moment in time?

Perhaps it is because I have this fear that I will never find that kind of happiness in the future. I do feel as though I have left it behind, and it scares me to think that it will never find me again. Or do I have to be the one searching.

Wishing

J could come out and play. But her one year house arrest is a small sacrifice to pay in exchange for the rest of her life.

Learning

My superficial and materialistic tendencies have been quite visible lately, that I think my colleagues at work may have a negative impression of my impulsive spending. I'm slowly learning that "things" cannot buy me happiness, well, long term happiness at least, unless the "thing" is considered a "classic" and will last forever. What was my point? Oh yes, learning to be less materialistic.

Anticipating

Summer and all of its energy. I plan to take advantage of my weekends. Drive off into the sunset with my iPod on overnight trips. Get lost in the forests. Tan to a golden hue. I am going to love myself again this summer, enjoy my youth, scratch that, enjoy my life. Maybe while I'm finding myself, I may also find a summer romance. Only a beach bonfire will tell.

Obsessing

Dexter. I am prepared to subscribe to Showtime, in order to watch Season Three in the Fall. This show has totally skewed my understanding of good and evil, of murder, of vigilantiism, of the sublime. Dexter is a serial killer, redefined as a local superhero, as his victims are "bad" people, i.e. murderers themselves. A part of me would honestly be supportive of such a figure, if he did in fact exist in this world. I wonder if that makes me evil.

Labels: Weekly Tidings

Monday, April 28, 2008

Lonely Sniper

There are moments during the day when I feel utterly alone. And it's funny, that those moments happen when I'm surrounded by a swarm of people, friends, family. I'll be listening to someone telling their story, half listening, because the other half of me is in my own mind. I don't know what it is, if it's selfishness, pretentiousness.

Actually, I do know what it is: self-centeredness - that's what. When someone shares a story, I feel this need to tell mine. And it's not the writer in me, it's not that I want to be heard. There are moments for that, there are other times and other places to be heard... except that I want to be heard ALL the time. I interrupt. I butt in. I can't stop saying "I" to save my life!

That's really one thing I'm starting to discover about myself, as I'm growing into what I really am. And in truth, I am, this pretentious, overbearing, controlling, self-centered girl. And because I know that I am who I am, I also know that my loneliness is my own fault. I keep others at bay, in order that they don't see what's really under my skin, behind my eyes. But the more I treasure my solitude, the more I hunger for companionship.

Loneless can be deadly, not deadly in the sense of murder, but deadly like cancer - slow, strategic - a sniper behind the glass window, waiting to take its shot - only, we control the trigger.

I used to think I was a people person, that I loved being around others and having company. But I think I value my solitude much more. I relished the five days I had to myself last week, when my brother and parents were in Florida. I was having a party - with myself! I know it sounds all pathetic written down that way, but I honestly had a good time being on my own. I kept telling myself, I can do this, live my life on my own, without anyone around. I can make it.

Then day five came, and I felt lonely to the point of strangulation. Loneliness has a more suffocating effect than a crowded room of people wearing cheap perfume. Loneliess smells like nothing, looks like nothing, is nothing - but this pressure in your heart that closes in on you.

Why is it suffocating? When I'm in a crowded room, I feel empty. When I'm lonely, I feel crowded. Why can't my body, my mind, my heart adjust properly? Why is it about opposites and not about equilibrium? Is there even an answer? Am I ever going to just be content?

Sometimes, I feel like the suffocating effect of being alone is just your heart's way of saying that it's got lots of love to give and no one to give it to - so it triggers you to find a recipient. Trigger. So we do control the shots of our lonely sniper's hit.

I am grieving, for a lost self. I want to find this person I never knew but always knew. And I think I'd be content if I found that in myself. I always thought that someone else could complete me. A boyfriend, a husband, a lover, a friend. But I know now that I am the only one who can complete me. And this knowledge is giving my loneliness boundless freedom. It is free to roam. It enjoys solitude in my bedroom, watching the first two seasons of Dexter. It enjoys the feel of a 3000 page book in its hands. It enjoys a long drive with empty passenger seats, an iPod hooked up to Jake (i.e. my car).

Right now, loneliness is my friend. But I am afraid of that day, that fateful day when suffocation is going to be too much to bear.

The day I choke.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Tuesday Tidings - 22APR

Enjoying
Dane Cook. Laughter truly is the best medicine. A smile, a giggle can heal a wound better than any band aid can. I even shrugged off the fact that a white Mazda or BMW slightly cuffed my right side mirror on the highway today. My friend was trying to divert my attention to the fact that a car just hit mine, but I didn't want to miss the punch line. No damage done to my baby Jake, thank goodness!

Worrying
About nothing at the moment. It's an oddly wonderful feeling, like water on the beach creeping up to your toes just enough to give you a smile on your face, before it recedes back into the ocean.

Craving
A Colombian empenada from Rico Pan Bakery in Queens, enough so that I might take a little drive over there on Saturday. I don't care what anyone else says. Our stomachs control our lives.

Missing
My family. My parents tailgated my brother on his High School Band trip to Disney, so I've had the house to myself since Friday. It's getting a bit too lonely for my tastes. I'm used to a lot of people around me, that the solitude gets quite depressing sometimes. That, and I've just had about enough of take out. I miss the home cooking.

Infatuated
With someone who's probably not good for me. Why do I always fall for the wrong ones? I think it's some kind of curse. There must have been something I did in the past to deserve such karma.

Labels: Weekly Tidings

February 2008
All out of love
Sun	Mon	Tue	Wed	Thu	Fri	Sat
1	2	3	4	5	6	7
8	9	10	11	12	13	14
15	16	17	18	19	20	21
22	23	24	25	26	27	28
29	30

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