Monday, January 30, 2006
It all started Friday morning when I was driving in to work and made the executive decision that I was going to see Memoirs of a Geisha that night. I did end up going, here is my review:
Memoirs of a Geisha: I just finished reading the book about two weeks ago, which by the way, I LOVED LOVED LOVED. With this in mind, I decided I wanted to go see the movie, even though I’m well aware that the movie is never as good as the book. I’ve decided that from now on, with the exception of Harry Potter, I shall no longer read the book before I watch the movie, EVER. If I’ve already read the book and they make a movie of it, I simply will not watch it. Or at least, I will wait until enough time has passed that I’ve forgotten all the details. In fact, it’s probably best if I’ve forgotten the book entirely. As you can see, I didn’t exactly love the movie. It started wrong, it ended wrong and it was wrong all the way through, pretty much. BUT, I think I would have been willing to overlook some of the liberties they took, had they not completely ruined the essence of the story. As long as I live, I will never understand Hollywood’s desire to take a perfectly good story, and change it COMPLETELY for the screen. In this movie, you’ve got characters having things happen to them that happened to completely different characters in the book, you’ve got a strong protagonist who survives a series of difficult circumstances and still always comes across as strong, and intelligent, and witty, coming across as dumb, and weak, and meek. I feel that anyone who watches this movie and doesn’t read the book, is getting cheated. This is a story of a smart, resilient girl, with some gut-wrenching, deep and emotional twists. I thought the movie, in comparison was bland, superficial, disappointing. That said, if I don’t compare it to the book, I will say this, it was beautifully acted, the scenery was GORGEOUS, and the music was incredible. My friend, who has NOT read the book, loved the movie, she thought it was sweet, and the ending brought tears to her eyes, so I guess it wasn’t as bland as I saw it. This is a tough review, because as a stand-alone, I can see why this movie is getting such great reviews, but as a movie made from a book, it paled in comparison. I’m going to be generous, and give it 3 ½ out of 5 stars, because it was a beautiful movie, if only I’d been able to not compare it.
MOVING ON…Saturday night I decided to work on some of those tivoed movies. I started watching “Girl with a Pearl Earring” but was about 15 minutes into it when I realized that I wasn’t paying the least bit of attention, as it just wasn’t AT ALL a movie I was interested in watching. I’ve begun having the same attitude towards movies as I have towards books, if it doesn’t grab me in the first chapter (first 15 minutes of a movie), I don’t bother with it. There is way too much out there to read/watch, to waste time on something that’s just not grabbing me.
So, I watched “Taking Lives”, with Angelina Jolie, Ethan Hawke, Kiefer Sutherland, and a bunch of other people that you go “oh yeah, I know who that is. This one is a suspense/thriller about an FBI agent (Jolie) who goes to Canada to help some detectives with a serial killer case. The movie was twisted, creepy, intelligent, and just fun to watch in general. I won’t say much more, because with these type of movies, you can’t say much without giving away the twists and turns, but I highly recommend it if you like suspense. I give it 5 out of 5 stars.
I then watched “Ed Wood”. I’m on this mission to watch every movie Johnny Depp has ever made. I’m not really sure why, but there it is, he’s hot, he’s been in a lot of movies, and I’ve decided I want to see them all. This of course means that I’m bound to watch some incredible movies (Edward Scissorhands, Blow, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape), some strange movies (well, actually, they’re all strange), and then some “What the hell were you thinking JD?” movies. Ed Wood falls somewhere between the two latter categories. This is the story of Ed Wood a 1950’s B-Cult Movie director. The movie is black and white and that in itself should have probably warned me that I was in for some strangeness. It also stars Sarah-Jessica Parker, Patricia Arquette, Martin Landau, Bill Murray, and that kid who played Vinnie on Doogie Howser (Max Casella is his name). It wasn’t a bad movie, but it wasn’t good either. It was weird. I don’t even know what rating to give it. I fell asleep half-way through it and finished watching it the next morning, because it wasn’t bad enough that I didn’t want to see the rest, but it just wasn’t good enough that I forced myself to stay awake to watch it. Know what I mean? But hey, JD was in it, so that’s a plus. Of course, he was in drag through some of it, and that’s just weird. 3 out of 5 stars, I guess.
That, my friends, was my movie watching weekend. I also watched the SAG awards last night, which were boring (I was reading at the same time), and Grey’s Anatomy, which is fast becoming one of my favorite shows. That show is laugh out loud hilarious, and Sandra Oh, who by the way won a SAG (and a Golden Globe) for her role in that show, is funny as hell.
Okay, I’m done playing Ebert and Roeper for today.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Sitting here thinking about the fact that I have about a month and two weeks before being 30 turns into being 30something.
Realizing, that I’m totally okay with this, in fact, I’m better than okay with it, I’m feeling great about the 30’s.
Not being able to explain what it is specifically, but knowing a sense of inner peace about the new juncture of life I’ve entered.
Reflecting on why it is that 30 feels so much better than 20.
I’m not in my 20’s anymore, which means that I no longer need to feel like the “kid” in the room. I’m over 30, therefore, I am now an adult. No longer a young adult, just an adult.
As a 30-year-old single woman, I can confidently sip a chocolate (caramel, apple, insert yummy flavor here) martini with a group of girlfriends, and not ONCE look around the room wondering if the cute guy is watching. I don’t even notice the cute guys; I’m too busy enjoying my friends’ company. How refreshing.
I’ve now been in my line of work long enough now, that it really has become my career, and although I’m not sure this is what I’ll always want to do, right now it I’m good with calling it my career choice. After all, I did choose it, I’m good at it, and it does pay the bills.
I can come home after a day at work, and walk into MY condo, and feel the satisfaction that I pay my mortgage every month on my own, keep the utilities turned on, and manage to feed myself AND the animals, and still have money left over for above mentioned martinis.
I’ve learned that there are things worth splurging on, and things that I just don’t really need to have, no matter how much I “MUST” have them, and can take a step back and wait it out. Therefore, securing extra money for said martinis.
When I plan with a girlfriend to go out for said martinis, I don’t have to worry about who’s going to get drunk and “act a fool”, because a martini is about savoring, not inhaling, as are glasses of wine, and other fruity concoctions. And going for drinks, in your 30ish stage (at least in my immediate world), is a euphemism for “spending quality time with my friends”.
I’ve reached a stage in my life, where I can do pretty much whatever I want to do, without worrying if it is socially acceptable. If it is acceptable to me, at this stage in my life, then it shouldn’t matter if it is acceptable to others. Granted, I’m also not running around half naked or sticking my arse out of moving car windows at this stage in my life, so I run less risk of offending someone. But the thing is, I don’t much care if “they”, whoever “they” are, wouldn’t do things my way. I do things my way and I’m the only one who’s allowed to judge me.
I’ve also reached a stage in my life in which I don’t feel the least bit guilty about being a little bit selfish. I’ve earned the right to check the caller ID and not answer the phone if I don’t feel like talking, to spend a Friday night at home, curled up on the couch watching tivo’d episodes of my guilty pleasures, to NOT want to share my space with anyone just yet, not a man, not a child, maybe my cat.
At 30, I’ve realized that the things that I used to stress over in my 20’s, were so minimal compared to the things that I know I will be stressing over as I get older. Marriages, children, job opportunities are bound to take friends to far away places and remove them from my immediate line of sight as time progresses. Disease, old age, and just pure bad luck are sure to take loved ones away from me and others I know as the years move on. Too many things will change, not enough will stay the same, and I will have to deal with them all, now that I am an adult. This obviously does not sound like a positive, but this knowledge, this awareness, makes the daily trivial stresses, laughable, and manageable. It makes getting up in the morning a blessing, and laying in bed at night a success. It makes every little thing, from my cat licking my face to say good morning, to a good workout at the gym, seem like such a miracle. And at 30, I’m finally able to appreciate this, and enjoy it. This is not to say that I don’t stress, fume, rant and rage at the daily stresses, but I’ve learned to let things go a lot quicker. It always feels better when you exhale.
It took me 30 years, but I’ve actually started paying attention to what I eat. I don’t just mean, “dieting”, but for the first time in my life, I’m paying attention to portions, and calories, and nutrients, and what is good and what isn’t for my body. I’ll still melt down and grab a big fat burger now and again, but I’m kinder to my body now, because when I do, I take note, and therefore, am less likely to do it as often.
Even though I joke about the “always a bridesmaid, never a bride” curse that follows me (hey, I’ll be in my 5th and 6th weddings this year and next), I’m truly very comfortable with my position as the “single” friend. I’m genuinely happy when friends get married, or have their children, and I’m at peace that I’m not the person experiencing it directly. I have an opportunity to experience the world like not many 30ish-year-olds get to do. Without attachments, without having to “check-in” with the significant other, or find a babysitter. I get the joy of cuddling and coddling friends’ babies, and the outsider’s view of watching the mania that is wedding planning. I don’t have to rush home to make dinner for anyone, I can pick up and take off on a Friday and not return until Sunday night without much preparation.
There are so many other little things that made me glad to be 30ish. I’m finding it to be this time when all things are possible, I’m no longer “too young” to participate in certain of society’s rituals, but I’m also not quite too old to NOT take part in them. It’s a good time to be me. I have choices, options, and the ability to NOT choose, to opt out. I can date, or not. I can be ambivalent about whether or not I actually want to EVER get married at all. I can also be confused about children and motherhood. It’s perfectly acceptable for me to want children and not want them all in the same breath. To love kids and to think of myself as potentially a wonderful mother, to consider adoption as a choice, and at the same time, to be so sure I may be emotionally ready, but not quite financially, intellectually or physically ready to take that step, to give up my space, to shake my independence to the core.
I can look back at the past year, my first in my 30s, and be content in that even tough nothing earth shattering happened, I had a good year. I enjoyed it, I lived it, I appreciated it. And now as 31 looms, I don’t need to make any big plans, to set any major deadlines, I can just continue to live life, bit by bit, day by day. And I guess that’s what I love the most about this idea of the 30’s. There is no major “milestone” impending. There isn’t the I’ll finally be able to drive, to drink, to graduate college, to buy a home…there’s just the day to day, and hopefully they’ll be good days.
Monday, January 23, 2006
THIS is why I love doing dishes. Strange as this may sound, hear me out.
I’m well aware that most people hate doing dishes, and that for most people the dishwasher is one of the world’s greatest inventions. I too was a subscriber to the “dishwashers rule” philosophy. That is until my dishwasher crapped out. I could get it fixed, or even replaced, but the truth is, I have a long list of more important items, which take financial priority, and a dishwasher just doesn’t rank that high. I live alone, and am fully capable of washing my own dishes by hand. For the most part, I don’t necessarily look forward to this task, and yes, there are days when I just let the dishes sit and accumulate before I pull up my shirtsleeves and dig in.
But here’s the thing I realized the other day as I began putting away my last load of dishes from the dish rack, and began washing the new set of dishes in the sink. Here’s something I can do, beginning to end, in a span of 10 minutes tops. I put away the dry dishes, wash the dirty ones, and set them out to dry. And suddenly the sink is clean, and shiny, and WOW, what a sense of accomplishment.
Other household chores, not so much! With laundry, I start a load, have to wait an hour for that to be done, and into the dryer before I can start another one, and eventually, I forget all about it, and wind up with smelly wet clothes in the washer for a day or two before I have to wash them all over again. Housecleaning? That’s an all day project, and being a creature of habit, I always start in the kitchen and run out of energy by either the bedroom, or definitely by the office, which is always the last room to clean, and therefore, always end up with a messy office. And as much as it feels great to have a nice clean house, it just takes too damn long to reach that end, and there’s always something else to do, so it’s never a “DONE” deal.
At work? Well, the thought of completing any one project at my job is laughable. Not only am I constantly interrupted with stupid questions from my coworkers or telephone calls, or new projects that are being thrown at me, but every little thing I do requires some sort of response from somebody else. Some projects can take days, others weeks, months, years! No immediate sense of accomplishment there.
So, this leaves me with dishwashing. Instantaneous completion. So, the next time you are grumbling over having to wash the dishes, just think about this, how many other opportunities do you have to complete a “project” in less than 10 minutes? See, it’s not so bad now, is it?
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Just a little fun. I stole this from Kelley at http://kelleyskomments.blogspot.com, but I thought it was cool, so I figured I'd post it here too. This is a really cool website that takes your "face" structure and tells you which celebrities you "look like".
Go check it out, you will probably be surprised with what it brings up...I sure was.
Here are my results...there were a bunch of people I didn't know, and most of them were Indian Actresses, so I guess I must look Indian...hmmm I will say this though, they are all BEAUTIFUL girls, so I could go for that. Here's the break-down:
65% - Kareena Kapoor (hey, we even share a name, she's a very pretty Indian Actress);
63% Winona Ryder (huh, how about that?)
58% Charlie Sheen (uh, yeah, I'm not sure how I feel about that)
57% Scarlett Johansen (yeah, right, I wish)
56% Barbara Stanwyck (don't know who that is)
52% Madhuri Dixit (another very pretty indian actress)
52% Rani Mukherjee (ditto)
51% Charlize Theron (yeah, right, I think she is one of the most beautiful women in hollywood!)
And some other random people I never heard of! ;-)
Well, at least this was a nice little boost for my ego!!! lol
Charlize Theron! HA!..
Thursday, January 19, 2006
I'm rethinking the whole "ready to date" thing, and it didn't even take a full week...how about that?
If not the "ready to date" thing, I am MOST DEFINITELY re-thinking the "letting my friends set me up" thing.
Scenario: K (that's me) is sitting at work, minding her own business, when suddenly Europe's "The Final Countdown" begins playing from her jacket pocket. It appears that K has left her cell phone on from her earlier jaunt out of the office (which in and of itself was a whole other source of aggravation, since K was called while out of the office running office errands because a client was on the other line and had a question...uh? Voice mail anyone???? take a freakin' message??) okay, anyway, back to the story at hand. SO, cell phone rings (and no, I didn't download "the Final Countdown" as a ring tone, my brother did, I inherited his phone, I like the song)...K answers phone. It is Cat, the friend who called this weekend asking if I'd be interested in meeting T.
K: Hi girl, how are you?
Cat: Oh, not good, we got some bad news about the dog, he might have cancer.
K: Oh no, I'm so sorry (genuinely concerned, cat and husband just got dog, really love him, recently lost other dog due to old age)
Cat: Yeah, but I don't want to talk about that
K: Okay (then why did you start the conversation with that? Well, okay, whatever, I asked how you were, I got an answer, moving on), so what's up?
Cat: Well, we wanted to know if you're going to be around either Friday or Saturday night, T wanted to see if we could set something up for him to meet you this weekend.
K: Oh, I can't, I'm going away this weekend, I won't be back until Sunday (okay, late saturday night, but still, same thing).
Cat: Oh, okay, I'll let Husband know. Maybe next weekend then?
K: Sure, I'm supposed to have dinner with some girlfriends either Friday or Saturday but it's not set yet, so either night, I can work one or the other around.
Cat: Okay, I'll call Husband and we'll talk later in the week then.
Goodbyes are said, phone's hung up. TWO minutes pass.
"It's the final countdown...."
Cat: Hi, so, T REALLY REALLY wants to meet you, so even if it's some night during the week, he wants to know if you want to go out, so he can meet you.
K: What the hell did you tell this guy about me that he wants to meet me so badly?
Cat: Nothing much, just the basic stuff, I told him that you're independent, have your own place, don't really date at all, and he's just really interested.
K: (not so sure I'm okay with the "don't really date at all equals he's really interested part, what the hell does that mean?) Okay...well, I don't know about during the week, I'm usually in a get out of work go home and relax kind of mode during the week (not to mention that I plan on starting the gym next week but don't get into that here), but I will be around next weekend for sure.
Cat: Okay, it's just that ever since we told him about you he keeps asking Husband about you, and he really wants to meet you (WTF?? He knows me form a hole in the wall). And...
AND HERE LADIES is where K gets PISSED OFF
and Husband was like "what doesn't she want to meet him anymore?"
K: Cat, it's THURSDAY, you called to ask if I was available for Friday or Saturday, I'm going away...I said I was available next weekend. Doesn't mean I don't want to meet him, it means I have plans TOMORROW and the DAY AFTER...
Cat: yeah, okay, well, I'll tell Husband
K: Okay, yeah, cool.
Goodbye's are said, phone's are hung up.
WTF?? Tell me something, do all couples automatically assume that just because a person is single, then she has nothing better to do than sit around on Friday and Saturday nights waiting for someone to want to go out with them? So, because I happen to have plans THE VERY NEXT DAY, I'm automatically not interested in meeting your friend? AND WTF did you tell him about me that is making him want to meet me so badly? Either this guy is desparate to meet ANYONE, (I'm getting stalkerish vibes here), or you guys think that by making him sound SOOO interested I'll be jumping up and down for joy. Truthfully, I'm a little freaked out. How long have you known me? YEARS, right? You'd think by now you'd know that I'm not turned on by the "Nice to meet you let's get married" types.
Is it that because I made the mistake of telling you that yes, I might be interested in dating again, you assumed this means that I must be married within the year?
THIS is why I don't like set-ups. Now you will be hounding me to go out with him, to like him, to marry the freakin' guy. I don't even know his age!
DID I NOT say "casual get-together". When did this turn into a "shotgun date". Do or die. GO out with him TOMORROW or you're not really interested? Is this coming from the two of you, or is this coming from him? Either way, I'm quickly debating whether to tell you to just forget the whole thing. This was supposed to be fun, now it's feeling like a chore. YOU'VE KILLED IT.
I have been a bad bad blogger! And knowing you all wait on baited breath for my witty entries, how dare I neglect you for so long! Yeah, okay, we all no nobody really reads this thing, which actually means that at the moment I’m referring to myself in the plural, and that’s just sad.
Alas, in the hopes that someday I will be discovered in the blog world and become famous and widely “read”, I plod on.
So, to my imaginary audience, I apologize and promise to try and be more consistent in my entries. I will try not to let my quest of a more active social life impair my blogging.
That said, although I have found myself busier both in and out of work, there really is nothing much of interest going on with me. Go figure.
I finished Memoirs of a Geisha on Audio yesterday, and really loved the book. Can’t wait to watch the movie now. I had a weird dream about the book/movie last night, and about how they changed the movie to be more “appealing” to Hollywood, and one particular change they made. It’s not all that strange that I would dream about the book, after all, I did just finish “reading” it, but the interesting thing will be to see if my dream about the change to it in the movie will prove true. I will be EXTREMELY freaked if it does, because I have now experienced two creepy “I dreamt this last night” scenarios in the last 2 weeks. The first, was when I dreamt that I would step on a scale and see a certain weight, which was 3 pounds less than I expected to weigh, and then the very next day I stepped on the scale, and wouldn’t you know it, same exact weight to the half pound as in my dream…huh! The second, was a strange fight with a co-worker about stuff being moved around in the office, and lo and behold, I come into work the next day, and one of the first things I notice is that a picture that was hanging on a wall upstairs is now hanging on a wall downstairs. Turns out over the weekend, some furniture was re-arranged in the boss’s office. HUH! I must be careful what I dream of!
I watched Gothica this weekend. I have had this movie TIVOed for almost a year now, but since moving into my condo (and living alone) I have become a big fat chicken and can’t watch scary movies. SO, even though I really wanted to see Gothica, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Sunday, however, in a lazy “staying in my pj’s all day and not doing a damn thing around the house” stupor, I decided that I’d be okay to watch it at 4:30PM because I’d forget all about the scary by bedtime. I loved the movie. It was creepy and strange and just fun to watch, even though I kept yelling at my cat because she thought it was funny to jump out at me from nowhere every now and again. Guess she thought it was really funny when I screamed the first time. Great! OH, and the scary was indeed forgotten until bedtime, right up until I shut off the light, and then suddenly, there it was, in all it’s gory glory. MUST.NOT.WATCH.SCARY.MOVIES.ALONE. p.s. It’s fun to watch Halle Berry look ragged and hurt looking! Makes one feel good about herself.
I am going semi-away this weekend. I say semi because I am only going to the neighboring state, and I’m only staying out for one night, but hey, I won’t be sleeping in my own bed, therefore, away. I am going with a friend, and some friends of hers, and we are leaving Friday after work. We are having dinner at a restaurant with very promising sounding martinis, staying at a hotel, which supposedly has a great spa. The initial plan was to have a Spa day on Saturday. Of course, poor planning on our parts has led to NO spa appointments available for us, so we will now be shopping at some local outlets on Saturday instead. We will also stop at a college hockey game on the way home. Those of you who know me just went “huh? Did she just say college hockey game?” Yes, I know this is very unlike me. No, I have not suddenly developed an interest in sports. To be fully honest, I’m not even all that interested in going to this game, but my friend wanted to go, we’ll be in the area, and I don’t have any better plans for Saturday night, so whatever. I’ll go flirt with some college boys and pretend I’m younger than I am.
I am truly going away in May! I will be going to Mexico, thankyouverymuch. Somehow, on the day after Christmas, at a family lunch with my parents, grandfather, my brother’s godparents and their 23/24 year old daughter, I agreed to a trip with all of the above. Since I’ve always gotten along well with what I’ll call the “older folks”, and have actually been accused of being “an old soul” on various occasions, I’m actually very much looking forward to this trip, I know it will be fun. Plus, there is the 23/24 year old as well, and I’m sure we’ll have fun together. But this is where it gets sort of strange, because I babysat that girl, and now I’m going to be drinking with her? ODD. This is one of those “all-inclusive” deals, that allows for a whole lot of eating, and a WHOLE lot of drinking. I’m not a heavy drinker, but when all drinks are free (okay, paid for) and you don’t have to work the next day, hey, even I partake. I will be gone for 8 days/7 nights, and will be lounging on the beach, eating, drinking, and flirting with les mexicanos. You know you’re jealous!
I may have my first date to report back on sometime in the next few weeks. I received a call from a friend, whose husband has a single friend, and they have told this single friend about me, and said friend wants to meet me. I have agreed to a casual “group” thing, and am now just waiting for it to be set up. Not “waiting” in the sense of “why hasn’t she called yet?” more like waiting in the sense of “maybe she’ll forget all about it and I won’t have to do this”. Now, I know what you are thinking, I said I was ready to start dating again. I know this, but I didn’t really mean it! Okay, okay, maybe I did, but here’s the thing, I was kind of hoping I could just randomly meet some guy that NONE of my friends know, so that I could keep my first date a complete secret from EVERYONE that I know, and therefore not feel the pressure of “so, what do you think, do you like him?” ARGH…too much pressure. I refuse to think about it for now.
I’m still “dieting and exercising” or as I’m calling it these days I’m still on my “health plan”. As stated above, I had a nice “lost 3 pounds” moment in the first week, but then bought a new scale this weekend, and either the new scale is wrong, or more than likely, I didn’t really lose that initial weight, OR (and this is really the more likely culprit), it’s all my friend’s fault, who had a birthday last week and forced me to celebrate with big hearty dinners not once but twice in one week (never mind that I was the one that planned one of the dinners). I have definitely lost 1.5 pounds though, so at least I’m heading in the right direction. Birthday friend and I went gym shopping this past weekend, and found a gym we will be joining next week, so hopefully this will get me better results. After all, I have to go bathing suit shopping in less than 100 days! ACK!!!
American Idol has started, I freakin’ love the audition process of that show. Seriously, how much do they pay those idiots to get on national television and make complete fools of themselves? Or are we to honestly believe these people really do believe they have talent? Whatever it is, please don’t stop, I haven’t laughed this much since last year’s auditions!
Well, that’s all folks, I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming, the phone at work is ringing and nobody else is answering, so I must go now.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
So, here I am, single at 30 in 2006. Frightening. It is not the fact that I’m single that is frightening, it is the thought of dating that is. I’ve been single for several years now, so long, in fact, that I honestly can’t remember exactly how long. Three, four years at least. In that time I have gone on approximately 5 dates. I kid you not. But don’t start feeling sorry for me this is mostly by choice. In the beginning, after my last relationship fell apart, I took a self-imposed dating hiatus. I just needed a break from all the stress that comes with dating. I needed to concentrate on me for a while. Since then, I have had moments when I’ve considered getting back into the dating scene, hence the 5 dates or so. But all it took was one not so good (or horribly bad) date, for me to realize that perhaps, I wasn’t quite ready to get out there yet.
My last date, if you could call it that, as it consisted simply of going for a walk to meet for the first time in person (oh the wonders of on-line dating), was nice enough. And to be honest, at that time, I was thinking I might actually be ready to get back out there. Then after informing him he wasn’t going to get very far with me physically very quickly, I never heard from the guy again. Yeah, I know, what a loss, right? But again, at this point I stepped back and thought “not so ready for this crap after all”. This was last summer, I haven’t even thought about dating since then.
Until now. It’s a new year, I’m all about getting out there, doing things, enjoying life, having a life. So, I’ve been considering the possibility that I might, maybe, just possibly, be ready to try this dating thing again.
Then yesterday I ran across this article titled “Dating for the Right Reasons” by Laura J. Schaefer. I believe you can link to it here:
She says: But as you decide whether you’re ready to date, make sure you are doing it for the right reason: You have a full life that you’d like to share with another person.
Okay, that makes perfect sense to me. I do indeed have a full life, but do I want to share it with another person? That, is the question. So I read on, and she goes on to list “bad reasons to date”.
Pay attention folks, especially those of you who are constantly telling me that “maybe I’ll meet someone” every time I go somewhere.
Reason No. 1: Your friends want you paired off.
OH, you know very well who you are! You want me to have a boyfriend, so that we can do “couple things”. You think that because you’re so happy in your relationship, I can only possibly be happy if I’m in one as well. THIS is not true. And besides, when you call me bitching and moaning about your significant other, I’m thanking my lucky stars that I’m single.
Reason No. 2: You can’t stand to be alone.
Well, I can pretty much skip this one, because besides going to the movies, I freakin’ love to be alone. This might actually a problem, I might like being alone a bit too much.
Reason No. 3: Well, he/she asked…
This is not an issue for me on several levels. Number one, I have no problem telling someone no, if I’m not interested. Let’s be honest, if it’s not there, it’s not there, and I’m not going to go on an “obligation” date. Number two…nobody ever asks. I REALLY need to get out more, because I don’t ever really meet any men, so I’m not really giving anyone the opportunity to ask, nobody knows I exist, curled up on my couch with my tivo.
Reason No. 4: You’re “that age.”
AH yes…the “time is slipping away” and I’m going to be an old maid thing. Yeah…there is an inkling of that. Basically, I’m perfectly comfortable being single right now, but I’m not so sure I’ll feel the same way in 10 years, and won’t it be THAT much harder to meet someone then? So, the “I’m not getting any younger” concern does play a small role, but really, not big enough to have me searching match.com just yet.
Reason No. 5: You want someone to fix your life.
I’m not even really sure I understand this one, and if she’s saying what I think she is, this one just pisses me off. “fix” your life? WHAT? How exactly? I’m going to just skip it.
Reason No. 6: You want to further your career.
Laughable…do women really do this anymore? I think she ran out of reasons, and wanted to have more than 5 so she just threw this in for good measure.
So, there you have it. And really, I don’t think any of these reasons apply to me, so I suppose I could start dating. Maybe I should try to find a list of the “good reasons to date”. Maybe that would help me decide.
I can’t tell you what it is that has made me so disinterested in love and romance. I think romance is great, I think love is even greater, and I do want it for myself some day. But I think I’ve spent so much time on my own, enjoying my own company, that I have a hard time letting go of the inner (and outer) peace, to get involved in the dramatics that always ensue when you date. The does he like me, will he ask me out, what should I wear, why hasn’t he called, what did he mean by “I think you’re great”, how many dates before we’re exclusive, can I trust him, does he want kids, does he want to get married, do our political, moral, ethical beliefs mesh, does he burp out loud, can I put up with that, who is that girl calling his phone, why hasn’t he introduced me to his parents, do I even want to meet his parents…drama.
I don’t know. Part of me is screaming “NO, stay away, you don’t want that”. But then, there’s also the part of me that’s thinking that hey, sometimes, those things are fun, and they get your blood pumping, and your adrenaline rushing. And what about the “he likes me, he smiled at me, what should I wear, he called when he said he would, that kiss was amazing, he thinks I’m great, he wants us to exclusive and all that excitement? Yeah, that’s fun too.
It’s an interesting quandary I find myself in. To date or not to date. I suppose I should start by leaving the house. We’ll see where that takes me.
Oh, and don’t worry, if I do venture into the crazy world of dating, I’ll be sure to keep you all posted of the good, the bad, and especially, the ugly. OH, what fun we will have.
Monday, January 09, 2006
As a general rule, we make New Year’s Resolutions on New Year’s Eve or thereabouts, and begin trying to stick with them on the first Monday of the year (let’s not kid ourselves, nobody EVER follows them on the First of the year, that’s a day for sleeping late, lounging around, and eating left-overs). We usually also break these resolutions by about the 15th of the year, but I digress.
We usually seem to take the New Year as a “fresh start”. I don’t know why we do this, after all, it is just another day, and why do we have to wait until January to start fresh anyway? Why not start fresh in March, or August, or October? Regardless, it is what it is. The new calendar year also means new beginnings for lists, record keeping, and of course, exercise routines and diets.
This year, however, the first Monday of the year, also happened to be New Year’s Day “Observed”, which meant that most of us did not have to work, and therefore, continued with our sleeping late, lounging around, eating left-overs routine. At least that’s what I did, thrown in with some cleaning, some putting away of Christmas decorations, and a lot of Extreme Make-over Home Edition watching (hey, they had a marathon going).
So, maybe this is why last week didn’t really feel like a new beginning. I for one hadn’t worked a full week since Thanksgiving, so having another four day week thrown into the mix, just made it seem like I was still in that Holiday mode. I did begin exercising, and I also semi-started my diet, but that was more because I just couldn’t excuse any more binge eating, and neither could my pants. But still, my mindset was still very much in “relax” mode, and I just couldn’t get amped up with the “New Year” gusto. Or maybe it’s just that as I get older, I’ve begun to realize how silly this “New Year” thing truly is.
Either way, I seem to have started off this week with a bit more of that gusto. Over the weekend I started my 2006 Book Journal, as one of my decisions for the year is to try to keep better track of the books I read, since I always end the year wondering exactly how much I read that year. I’m an avid reader, and really enjoy discussing books, thinking about what I’ve read and how I felt about it, and think it would be great to look back on the year and reflect on where I “literally” ventured to that year.
I’ve also found myself looking into the things I always say I’m going to do, and never follow through on. As my main New Year’s Resolution for this year was to ENJOY LIFE as much as I can, I really want to force myself to get out of the house more often and get more involved in the world around me.
I want to write that novel. I want to join a gym. I want to find a book club. I want to have more cocktail parties at my house. In a nutshell, I want to be more social and just DO stuff.
As I sit here at work today, besides re-organizing my desk and cleaning off countertops that haven’t seen the light of day in months, I’m itching to GET OUT. Not necessarily just to get out of the office, although that is pretty much a daily daydream, but to get out and DO SOMETHING after work besides the usual going home, cooking dinner for myself, and watching some lame show or other on television.
Now, before you get all “Awww, poor thing, she’s so lonely and bored” on me, I’m not complaining about my life. I like my life. I even like that I can go home and cook dinner for myself and sit and watch some lame show on television. It’s nice. It’s relaxing. And even after almost 3 years of living there, I still get such a sense of satisfaction walking into my own place and knowing that it’s mine, ALL MINE. And the bank’s, but I digress.
It’s just that as much as I enjoy the life I have, I’m afraid that I’m becoming very complacent in it. It is much too easy to go home after work every night, curl up on the couch with the cat and a glass of wine, and be comfortable. I could probably do this for years and not really feel any worse for it. But then I have moments when I realize that I’m sort of sitting back and letting life happen around me, while I watch it unfold, and I’m not participating nearly as much as I should. It’s all nice and comfy when I’m in the comfort of my own home, but what happens when I’m still doing exactly the same thing in five years? In ten? Will I be as content then, or will I be miserable that I let it slip by without grabbing on and enjoying the ride?
I’m afraid the latter would be true. I see signs of it even now, as comfortable and content as I am most days. Slowly, but oh so surely, all my friends are getting married and starting families. I myself am truly in no hurry whatsoever to do either. I could see myself as a mother, not so much as a wife (I know I have it backwards), but still, that would mean giving up that independence that I’ve been so thoroughly enjoying, and I don’t know that I’m quite there yet. And still, with every friend that weds, or has a child, I feel the tug. The tug to not be left behind. The other night I received an invitation to be a bridesmaid in one of my very best friends’ weddings. I of course accepted, and am delighted that I’ll be part of the event. I love her dearly, and am over the moon that this is happening for her. I have no jealousy, again, I’m not entirely sure I want to be married at all, never mind soon. This will, however, be the 6th wedding I will participate in as a bridesmaid, the seventh time I have been asked. The seventh wedding, which I was forced financially to bow out of, has been indefinitely postponed anyway, for the same reasons I stepped down. So, this brings the old adage to mind: am I truly destined to be “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride”? And does that bother me? Or is it just the stigma attached to it that actually does bother me? I wonder, for I’m not one to care all that much what the outside world thinks of me, but sometimes, well, we’re none of us perfect, now are we?
I know one thing for sure. When I do have a wedding, if I do have a wedding, I better marry rich, because I’m going to have on hell of a bridal party. They OWE me. I jest.
Besides the “world moving on without me” thing, is the “why the hell aren’t I participating” thing. And that one nags at me so much more. Why do I let weeks go by with nothing more exciting than a trip to the grocery store lined up? It’s not as if I don’t have any friends to do things with, and I certainly have plenty of ideas. There is a long list of those that I constantly bounce around in my head, and I know if I decide to do them, I can always find someone to do it with. Or hell, some of them are things I want to do on my own. So, what exactly am I waiting for? Next year? So I can start fresh in January?
Well, January is here, and I’m not going to just sit back and watch anymore. See, this is the gusto speaking. I’m getting of my quickly becoming fat ass, and I’m doing something. Anything.
So, who wants to go skinny dipping? I’m KIDDING.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Let me start by saying this: This is MY BLOG, and therefore that means that I am entitled to share my thoughts and feelings here, whether or not they may be harsh, politically incorrect, or just plain rude. I don’t consider myself to be any of the above (well maybe politically incorrect), for the most part, I think I am a very thoughtful, nice, and caring person. But there are times when ANGRY Karina needs to come out and play, this is one of those times.
A little background into why this particular topic is on my mind today. As some of you know, I work in a law firm, and yesterday we had a client come in for a consult in a matter related to an arrest for drinking and driving. I was lucky enough (sarcasm abounds) to sit in on this consult. It took every ounce of my being to sit there and look pretty (yeah, whatever) and not open my mouth about my true feelings. SOO, I decided that since I couldn’t say these things to him, I’d say them here. AND since he’s not the only idiot getting behind the wheel after having WAY too much to drink, I figured I’d address it to ALL the idiots who do so.
And a quick disclaimer: I don’t condone getting in a car after drinking pretty much at all, although we’re all guilty of having one or two drinks and then driving. For the most part, this is not a big issue with me and this is not what this post is about. My issue is with the idiots (and yes, I’ll continue to call them idiots, and this is much nicer than the other words I was using at the meeting in my mind) who just don’t know when to stop and THEN get in their cars.
That said, an open letter to the idiots who choose to drink and drive:
Do you really believe that there is any excuse for your behavior? Do you truly feel that you should not be held accountable for your choices? Do tell what it is that makes you above reproach? Why do you think you have been selected to be allowed to make ignorant, idiotic choices and then not feel guilty for it? YOU.ARE.GUILTY. Therefore, you should suffer the consequences. I do not feel sorry for you. There is no sympathy here for your plight. NONE, ZERO, ZILCH.
Don’t you try that WOE IS ME crap here. I should nod my head in commiseration that it is not fair that someone can rob a convenience store and only get a slap on the wrist and you, with your first offense (let’s be clear, the first time you were caught), are going to suffer SO MUCH MORE? Cry me a river!
So now you don’t know how you’ll get to work because you refused the breathalizer, because you were WAY above the legal limit and you knew it, so chose to refuse it instead of proving just how drunk you were, and now you have automatically lost your license for 6 months (this, by the way, is new Massachusetts Law, passed in October of 2005). What a pity! Nope, not feeling sorry for you one bit.
And then you have the gall to say, in a “yep, I’m guilty as hell” tone that you visited 3, maybe 4 bars that night? How much did you have to drink? “Plenty” you say. Hell, you don’t even remember what you said to the cops after you were arrested, because you were THAT drunk, and I’m supposed to feel badly for you because “it’s not like I hurt anyone”? SORRY, Not happening.
Here’s what I think. Now, pay attention. And this goes to EVERYONE who chooses to get behind the wheel of a car when they KNOW they’ve had even just ONE too many drinks (never mind 12 or 13). Listening?
I think, to put it bluntly, that you are a killer. Yeah, I know, I know, I’m out of line, right? But would you give a gun to someone who isn’t mentally stable and able to think rationally and tell them to just shoot wildly? Right, you wouldn’t, because that bullet is bound to hit a target at some point. So here’s the thing, YOU KNOW, because we all know, the effects of alcohol on your ability to walk straight, think straight, speak coherently. So therefore, you know, because we all know, that it would only make sense that it would also impair your ability to drive straight (you think?). So, here you are, not entirely in control of your body or mind and you load up your weapon and begin shooting wildly. Only this bullet is a 3000 plus pound pile of metal and glass. And you don’t think somebody’s going to get hurt? Rationally thinking you know that when you get behind the wheel of an automobile after you’ve had too much to drink, you could kill somebody. Therefore, you are a killer, you just haven’t found your victim yet. And don’t give me the “well if I’m not thinking straight, then I don’t rationally know that I could kill someone” stupidity either, because you were sober when you left the house (well, one would hope) and chose to drive your car to the first bar, second bar, third bar, and so on.
But you’re not that person? You’re a good guy, just out having a good time, you don’t really want to hurt anyone? Well, then don’t. Call a cab, stay at a friend’s house, assign a designated driver, walk, STAY HOME. There is just no good reason for you to be out on the road.
So, yes, maybe I’m unforgiving, maybe I’m just a bit too passionate about this particular subject, but it was one of you who killed my friend Leo, and took him away from this world 10 years ago now. And it’s always one of you who makes me afraid for my life when I’m driving home sober, the designated driver because I DON’T want to be a killer, and swerving into my lane. And it’s always one of you who ruins a prom night, a New Year’s Eve, a Fourth of July celebration.
No, I don’t feel sorry for you, I don’t have sympathy, I just don’t see your side of the story. I’m sick of hearing about these innocent people just minding their business standing on a sidewalk, driving home from work, and you come along and take a mother away form their children, a child away from their parents, a sister, a brother, a friend, ENOUGH.
So, stick your tail between your legs, where it belongs, because you were caught this time. Take your licking and hopefully, learn something from it. And for God’s sake, for all our sakes, hell for your sake, DON’T. DO. IT. AGAIN.
Because next time, someone might actually be in that car, and then, you just might hurt them, or worse. You don’t want to live with that, do you? Because after all, you’re not a killer, right? So, prove me wrong, don’t load that gun.
Very truly yours,
A Very Angry and Fed Up Citizen
Quietly stepping off my soapbox now.