There are many reasons why I’m single at this point in my life.
In fact, just about everyone I know has an opinion about my single status. I’m not willing to settle, the right guy just hasn’t come along, it’ll happen when the time is right or better yet, when I least expect it (that’s a joke), I’m too picky (I’m eternally being told this one), I need to get out more (laugh with me if you know just how ridiculous this one is), I’m not looking hard enough, I need to stop looking so hard, I intimidate men because of how independent and successful I am, I should just be myself, I should try internet dating, I should never do internet dating, I should let them set me up with their cousin/brother/uncle/neighbor coworker, they don’t know any single people to set me up with…well, you get the point. Everyone has input into the situation, as if this was a group project.
Truth be told, I’m perfectly comfortable being single, and don’t spend the majority of my days looking for (or even really thinking about) Mr. Right. That being said, I’m finally at a point in my life where I am certainly open to meeting someone.
And yet, now that I have decided that I am ready and willing to re-enter the dating scene, I’m finding it a bit hard to do so. Meeting someone just isn’t as easy as it used to be in my 20’s.
Somedays, I look at all other aspects in my life, I look at other people around me, I look at other couples and I wonder why am I single? What is it that keeps me from finding “the one”.
Other days, however, I realize exactly why that is. It takes but a walk down the street, a conversation with a friend, or a stroll through my local grocery store to remind me why I am indeed single.
So, I bring you my new segment here at Candid Karina. As I navigate the waters of re-entering the dating scene in my 30’s, I’m pretty sure I’ll have plenty to share with you as to why I haven’t yet found “the one”.
And what will then happen to this segment when I do find “the one”? Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about that, after all…it could be a while.
For example, to kick things off, let’s start with today.
In the spirit of quieting the “you need to get out more” voices in my head, now and again at lunch time, I decide to go for a walk through the downtown area where my job is located.
Mind you I’m not going out “looking” to meet someone, but I figure if I go take a walk to clear my head, and mingle among the rest of the “downtown lunchers” anything can happen right?
Right. Except. These are just a few tidbits of the conversations I overhear as I take my little walk:
1. Walking by a group of guys and gals, probably in their mid-20’s: “So-and-so got arrested last night again” - “What did he do this time?”
2. Walking by two guys, who were obviously trying to get the attention of a girl passing by “Come on girl, we can go smoke a blunt, where do you live?”
And you wonder why I’m single in this town?
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Family Time
This past weekend my family and I took a bit of a nostalgia trip.
When I was in my early teens, we had a family tradition of spending a week every summer in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Every year we would pack up the cars for the 2 plus hour drive, and head to a nice little “cottage resort” for nature, fun and games. My cousins PM, M&M and I would get our very own little cottage, our parents (and my little brother) would set up camp in surrounding cottages, and we would spend the week enjoying each other’s company, and the lack of “technology” available to us.
We would cook out, take all day sightseeing/hiking trips, hang out by the pool, hit up random yard sales and village shops, and then spend the evenings by the campfire roasting marshmallows and telling tales.
My cousins and I would then proceed to stay up all night doing whatever it is that teenage girls can do all night long at slumber parties. Giggle, tell stories, fantasize about their future husbands, listen to music.
Every year we’d look forward to this week.
We haven’t been up there as a family in well over 15 years.
This weekend, however, we decided to revisit and take a mini-vacation at the White Mountains.
My parents, my grandfather, my brother and his girlfriend, my uncle and aunt, my cousin M&M, her fiancé and her daughter and of course I spent the weekend at a little cottage resort.
It was surprisingly easy to allow ourselves to let go of the confines of technology and sink into the beauty and ease of nature around us. I won’t lie, we had our blackberries and iphones in tow, but by Saturday afternoon, the constant checks for emails and text messages were less frequent, and by Saturday night, I’d given up all hope (or interest) in keeping up with my twitter stream updates.
Instead the focus was on the beauty of the mountains around us, the warmth of our campfire, and the company of family. We ate, we drank, we told stories, we played games, and we reminisced a bit. Mostly, we just enjoyed the time, and the company.
It was a lovely and fun time, and a reminder of all the great things God has blessed us with.
I’m hopeful it won’t be another 15 years before we all do it again. In fact, the fall foliage is just starting to turn, so a re-visit in a few weeks is something we’re all considering.
I won’t lie, there was a bit of bitter sweetness there as I watched my family throughout the weekend.
The resort we used to stay at, just up the road from the one we stayed in this weekend, is badly deteriorated, closed for renovations, but now owned by someone else.
My cousin PM now lives in California with a family of her own, so she was not there with us. My brother, all grown up, is no longer the “little boy of the family” but instead brought his girlfriend with him. The “kids” are now the adults, and things are so different.
And yet, the love, the camaraderie, the incessant joking and teasing were all the same. For the record, every last one of my family members is nuts. I can’t wait to do this all again soon.
My family and I took a nostalgia trip this weekend, and I brought back a heart filled with warmth as a souvenir.
When I was in my early teens, we had a family tradition of spending a week every summer in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Every year we would pack up the cars for the 2 plus hour drive, and head to a nice little “cottage resort” for nature, fun and games. My cousins PM, M&M and I would get our very own little cottage, our parents (and my little brother) would set up camp in surrounding cottages, and we would spend the week enjoying each other’s company, and the lack of “technology” available to us.
We would cook out, take all day sightseeing/hiking trips, hang out by the pool, hit up random yard sales and village shops, and then spend the evenings by the campfire roasting marshmallows and telling tales.
My cousins and I would then proceed to stay up all night doing whatever it is that teenage girls can do all night long at slumber parties. Giggle, tell stories, fantasize about their future husbands, listen to music.
Every year we’d look forward to this week.
We haven’t been up there as a family in well over 15 years.
This weekend, however, we decided to revisit and take a mini-vacation at the White Mountains.
My parents, my grandfather, my brother and his girlfriend, my uncle and aunt, my cousin M&M, her fiancé and her daughter and of course I spent the weekend at a little cottage resort.
It was surprisingly easy to allow ourselves to let go of the confines of technology and sink into the beauty and ease of nature around us. I won’t lie, we had our blackberries and iphones in tow, but by Saturday afternoon, the constant checks for emails and text messages were less frequent, and by Saturday night, I’d given up all hope (or interest) in keeping up with my twitter stream updates.
Instead the focus was on the beauty of the mountains around us, the warmth of our campfire, and the company of family. We ate, we drank, we told stories, we played games, and we reminisced a bit. Mostly, we just enjoyed the time, and the company.
It was a lovely and fun time, and a reminder of all the great things God has blessed us with.
I’m hopeful it won’t be another 15 years before we all do it again. In fact, the fall foliage is just starting to turn, so a re-visit in a few weeks is something we’re all considering.
I won’t lie, there was a bit of bitter sweetness there as I watched my family throughout the weekend.
The resort we used to stay at, just up the road from the one we stayed in this weekend, is badly deteriorated, closed for renovations, but now owned by someone else.
My cousin PM now lives in California with a family of her own, so she was not there with us. My brother, all grown up, is no longer the “little boy of the family” but instead brought his girlfriend with him. The “kids” are now the adults, and things are so different.
And yet, the love, the camaraderie, the incessant joking and teasing were all the same. For the record, every last one of my family members is nuts. I can’t wait to do this all again soon.
My family and I took a nostalgia trip this weekend, and I brought back a heart filled with warmth as a souvenir.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Never Forget - EVER
Okay, I haven't posted anything in a while here (big surprise, seems to be the running theme), but I couldn't let today go by without a post.
I've posted this poem more than once on this here little blog o' mine, but honestly, I can't seem to find words more fitting every year than the ones I wrote back in 2001 after the tragedy happened.
So, once again, I'm reposting a poem I wrote back in 2001.
Tuesday Morning
When I awoke
the sun was shining
I could smell the ocean breeze
the birds singing
the world was grand
I started my day with ease
Then the phone rang
"turn on the tv
You won't believe your eyes"
And then I saw it
the second impact
terror coming from he skies
"What's going on?"
I asked dumbfounded
"Is the world falling apart?"
As time progressed
I learned much more
The knowledge broke my heart
"Oh my God
There it goes"
Someone said to the crowd
And as it fell
our hopes crumbled
the country sighed out loud
How could this be?
Here , in America?
We're not supposed to cry
On a Tuesday morning
for no good reason?
People aren't supposed to die
But things have changed
The world is different
We'll never again be the same
But how we stand proud
The United States
Much more than just a name
My heart still broken
My eyes, still moist
I still can't make much sense
But I've seen the focus
such prayer, such unity
The world's love so intense
They shook foundations
They collapsed buildings
They took human lives that day
But we won't be rattled
Won't be destroyed
God Bless the USA
Copyright 2001 - Karina
I only wish our country stood as united today as we did 8 years ago. It shouldn't take such tragedy to bring us together as one.
And that's about as political as I'm going to get here. Hug your loved ones. Smile at a stranger. Pray for our country.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Bittersweet
I’m a summer girl. I’ve always been a summer girl. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I was born in Africa, and therefore, am preconditioned to love hot weather. Maybe it has to do with the fact that here in New England summer lasts a few measly months (if not a few measly weeks as we had this year) and winter lasts all of eternity. Maybe it has to do with the fact that we get to wear less clothing, daylight lasts longer, and I get to show off my killer tan. Maybe it has to do with that whole SAD thing, you know, Seasonal Affective Disorder, also known as The Winter Blues. I definitely suffer from that.
Whatever the reason (probably all of the above), I am a summer girl.
I love the heat, the sun, the fact that it doesn’t get dark until well after 9pm, and that you can be out of the house all the time, all summer long.
I love going to the beach, going for walks, running outside, eating at an outdoor café, sitting with a good book poolside.
I love wearing summer dresses and flip-flops and sunglasses on my head to push my hair out of my face.
I love driving with the windows down, wind in my hair, music blaring, getting an uneven tan on the driver side arm.
I AM A SUMMER GIRL.
And yet.
As we enter September today, and, here in New England the weather takes that all too familiar “overnight” turn into the crisp autumn temperatures, I am almost giddy with excitement at the coming season.
There is something very emotionally connected for me about autumn.
I can’t quite pinpoint what it is, but there is something about the smells, tastes, scents, and sights of the season that tug at my heartstrings.
Here in New England we have the beautiful colors of the season, the turning of the leaves into a canopy of oranges, yellows, and reds.
And that crisp, almost biting, but not quite uncomfortable feel in the air as the temperature drops, but the sun is still high up in the sky is hard to put into words. You leave the house in short sleeves and jeans, but bring a sweater with you “just in case”. It is still nice enough outside to go for a walk, and the perfect weather for a run, and the suffocating humidity is almost forgotten.
There is nostalgia in the air, that anticipation of the other “dreaded” season, but the joy of basking in just a little more warmth. The expectation of the “Indian Summer” which is sure to show up in mid to late September, along with the magical twilight that only exists, truly, in autumn.
The air tastes, feels, smells different. And I do love everything about it. Everything but the fact that I know it’ll be short lived, and followed all too soon by a long, drawn out, miserable and cold and dark winter. I am NOT a winter girl.
So, today, on September 1st, a day with a definite autumn feel in the air, I find myself conflicted.
Mourning the end of an all too short summer, and yet celebrating the start of what may in fact be my favorite season.
I’m a summer girl, but oh, I have a secret love affair with autumn.
Whatever the reason (probably all of the above), I am a summer girl.
I love the heat, the sun, the fact that it doesn’t get dark until well after 9pm, and that you can be out of the house all the time, all summer long.
I love going to the beach, going for walks, running outside, eating at an outdoor café, sitting with a good book poolside.
I love wearing summer dresses and flip-flops and sunglasses on my head to push my hair out of my face.
I love driving with the windows down, wind in my hair, music blaring, getting an uneven tan on the driver side arm.
I AM A SUMMER GIRL.
And yet.
As we enter September today, and, here in New England the weather takes that all too familiar “overnight” turn into the crisp autumn temperatures, I am almost giddy with excitement at the coming season.
There is something very emotionally connected for me about autumn.
I can’t quite pinpoint what it is, but there is something about the smells, tastes, scents, and sights of the season that tug at my heartstrings.
Here in New England we have the beautiful colors of the season, the turning of the leaves into a canopy of oranges, yellows, and reds.
And that crisp, almost biting, but not quite uncomfortable feel in the air as the temperature drops, but the sun is still high up in the sky is hard to put into words. You leave the house in short sleeves and jeans, but bring a sweater with you “just in case”. It is still nice enough outside to go for a walk, and the perfect weather for a run, and the suffocating humidity is almost forgotten.
There is nostalgia in the air, that anticipation of the other “dreaded” season, but the joy of basking in just a little more warmth. The expectation of the “Indian Summer” which is sure to show up in mid to late September, along with the magical twilight that only exists, truly, in autumn.
The air tastes, feels, smells different. And I do love everything about it. Everything but the fact that I know it’ll be short lived, and followed all too soon by a long, drawn out, miserable and cold and dark winter. I am NOT a winter girl.
So, today, on September 1st, a day with a definite autumn feel in the air, I find myself conflicted.
Mourning the end of an all too short summer, and yet celebrating the start of what may in fact be my favorite season.
I’m a summer girl, but oh, I have a secret love affair with autumn.
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