I’ve been a disgracefully absentee blogger of late. I’m not sure how much better the current situation is- seeing as I’m blogging quite lamely from a Starbucks that I despise (drinking Green Tea— cuz I’m healthy!) and finally getting back into it. It’s quite possible that the only way for me to be any more cliche would be if I were wearing all baggy clothes and a beret. But I don’t own a beret, so the sweater and jeans from high school will have to suffice.
Where have I been, you ask? Jamaica. Clubbing. Meeting my future husband. Rescuing puppies. Except I haven’t (ever) done any of those things, and instead I regret to inform all 3 of my readers that I was at California Republican Convention (seriously), moving (suck it, Charlie the miracle dog), and fuck only knows where else. But shit, I’ve been busy. And now I’m just tired and wondering when I’ll have enough time to wash my hair.
I’m in a Starbucks I hate right now because I have exactly 24 minutes to kill before I go volunteer with the homeless baby that I love more than any pair of my shoes (serious!), and because this is the only place with wi-fi nearby. And of course, because irony has made me its bitch, I’m sitting in the exact god-damned same seat that I’ve had a converstation in that I would love to forget. Fabulous.
From this very bench I was told something along the lines of why I was no longer in the relationship that I so desperately tried to be in… to absolutely no avail. And currently, I’m sort of kind of on the verge of a new relationship, and there hasn’t been a very significant gap between the two events. (Except a girl just walked in with the greatest boots and she’s wearing those tall socks and she has great hair and she’s so cute… ugh. Damn everyone who is better looking than me right now. That includes you, RuPaul).
Anyway, why am I always striving to be in a relationship? It’s practically a full-time job, only it costs me money and I can’t argue my way into it. Trust me, I’ve definitely tried. I’m a relationship type of girl. I get off on routine, commitment, facebook’s “in a relationship” status. If there was an I ❤ monogamy shirt, I’d be sporting it. My friends, the large majority of them, are either married or absolutely single. Both are irritatingly ecstatic. I- on my island of awkward middle-ground, facebook stalking drama- am not. What gives? (update: adorable girl with great boots has an adorable boyfriend with great hair… I’m going to burn this Starbucks down once I’m done with the internet).
And maybe I could be in a committed relationship right now. I’m not really good at this stuff, but I’m pretty sure that it’s a possibility with the President (we like him). But when going through the possiblity of having the “so, like, what are we” conversation, it occurred to me that he might actually say “yes.” (I realize that I did not exactly pose a yes/no question, but roll with me. I only have 8 minutes now… it takes time to italicize shit!) And the potential of being in a committed relationship frightened me. No kidding, a sort of, ummm wtf, kind of feeling washed over me.
My last relationships have not exactly been stellar, or even close to “maybe that was a good idea.” So instead of feeling like I’ve learned a lot, I’m feeling a little bit like I’m just working with damaged goods when it comes to the girl my future boyfriend is gonna get. Which makes me sad for him. Which then makes me sad for me, because really, who thinks that way?!
In order to counteract that lack of knowledge increase from the past 3 breakups then, I came up with a brilliant, albeit awful idea. How phenomenal would it be to give a survey to your exes?! You don’t even have to tell me that this is great, because I’m pretty sure (like my ideas about taking on 9,000 volunteer activities, dating people who are awful, and living with Charlie the Miracle Dog) that it is. Naturally, I got started on some questions for my survey-targets.
1. What was your favorite memory of/with me?
2. Your biggest pet peeve about me?
3. What was the most important thing you learned about women/relationships from me?
4. What did your mom say about me? (I
might will regret asking this I’m pretty sure of some of them).
5. What were your friends opinions of me/us?
6. If you could describe our relationship in one word, what word would it be?
7. What advice do you have for my future boyfriends? (Also will regret most likely)
8. Do you think we should have broken up sooner/later/still be together?
10. What in God’s name convinced you dating me was a good idea in the first place?!
The best part about this idea is that I am totally sober, completely serious and absolutely curious. If I had the balls (or good relationships with my exes currently) to ask any of them, I would. Also, I’m delerious from lack of sleep, and may rethink the brilliance of this when I reread it in 4 days. But honestly, you know that saying “you can bring a horse to water but you can’t get them drunk”— or whatever it is— it absolutely aplies here. I can go through experience after brutal break up after great first kiss with every guy West of the Mississippi, but until I’m willing to learn from it, I’m just swapping saliva and losing a lot of tears.
Pass it out to your exes before I do, and tell me how it goes. Thanks for being my test-dummy.
Everything happens for a reason. Time heals all wounds. Live every day like it’s your last.
Nice ideas. Worthless, but nice.
Aside from the fact that you can’t believe all three of those things at once anyway because they seem to be conflicting, they are nothing but verbal band-aids for a chronically suffering and dramatic humanity. A suffering group of wanderers that I am very much a part of, so I am not pointing fingers arbitrarily.
There’s some truth there though, in that last one. We can never know that tomorrow will be granted to us. I don’t know for certain that I don’t have a tumor that is sucking the life from me, and I don’t know that there won’t be a deadly earthquake tonight. But am I throwing myself a going away party, or telling everyone who means anything to me I love them? No. Not even close, actually. And I am okay with that, because if I were to behave as if these next few hours were my final ones, I think I’d scare away the people I really like.
I’d probably be emotionally unstable, cry a lot, and jump out of an airplane. I’d throw the word “love” around like it was going to expire. But people can’t live that way. You can’t go everyday without a filter and boundaries and thinking before you speak. I have a theory about why this is, and lucky you, you’re going to hear it.
People only use something like 10% of their brain capacity. I’m willing to guess that the large majority of us only function with a similar amount of our heart. If we let all the emotions we get pummeled with everyday really soak in, we’d drown in hurt and ecstasy and anxious wonder at everything. If we let ourselves feel the extent of the sadness at losing someone, or the scream-fromthe-top-of-your-lungs happy when we find someone, our hearts just may explode. So we build up tiny gates and walls to reinforce those gates and sit comfortably behind them, protected from the perils of trying not to live alone.
Whether this is better or not, I don’t know. I’ve never claimed to be an expert on anything, and I’m even less so in this area. Emotions, relationships and such are not my forte… Which oftentimes makes me sad. My heart, like me in my totality, is an underachiever. But that heart will get a tomorrow, probably. And probably, it will happily let moments and people pass that deserved more of it and more of me. That heart and those people and all those lost moments… they deserved better.