2012 Bucket List

"Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake." - Henry David Thoreau

My mind is constantly swirling with goals, dreams, and the constant quest to learn and grow. I'm excited to begin a new year working to achieve goals, turn dreams into realities, and evolve into a better me. Also, because one of my biggest fears is boredom, and because setting so many different goals in 2010 led me down paths I never fathomed I'd cross, I'm beginning 2012 with a whole new list of goals. Some small, some big, but I'm hoping that working to achieve each of these will contribute to making 2012 one of the best years yet!

12 Goals for 2012

1. Run a half marathon. Oh boy. I had to pause several times before typing this. I've always made fun of anyone who would ever want to run for longer than an hour, but here I am, setting this ridiculous goal.


2. Go to the Green Mill at least once this year, even if it's by myself. I love jazz, and nothing is more "Chicago" to me than the Green Mill. It quickly became one of my most favorite places in the city soon after I moved to Chicago, and yet I've only been there once since moving just blocks from the place.


3. Read all of the unread books on my bookshelf.


4. Attend Sunrise Yoga on Montrose Beach at least once this summer - because not many people can roll out of bed, walk to a beach, and practice yoga while watching the sun rise over the lake. The challenge for me, you see, is getting up at 6:00am on a Saturday.


5. Beat my 5k PR and beat my 8k PR. 


6. Partake in a new volunteer opportunity. 


7. Learn to cook something really challenging. I've really developed my cooking skills since setting a goal to make 3 new recipes a few years ago. I cook for myself weekly, and I even bake mostly from scratch now. But I want to see what I can do with something that would totally take me out of my comfort zone.


8. Learn how to "stand up paddle board" - because I want a cool reason to utilize all the core strength for which I work so hard!


9. Document one positive aspect about each day. This idea came from my brother. He coaches high school golf, and when he noticed a pattern of his players getting down on themselves and being extremely negative regarding their abilities, he had them each start a journal documenting one positive thing they did each day. So, although I'm not a negative person, I'm still going to record one positive aspect daily in my planner for 365 days, and then I'll create a post at the end of the year listing them.


10. Work out more than 223 days - which is what I accomplished in 2011. I want to beat that number only because I like competing against myself!


11. Take a vacation. I don't care where or how long/short, I just want to go someplace I've never been.


12. Lastly, I'd like to be a better friend. This includes making an effort to see friends in Ohio when I'm there. Life is too short to keep letting years go by without spending time with people who have made a significant positive impact on my life. Oh and, um, if the opportunity arises, I'd like to be a pretty awesome girlfriend.

What is Love?

Love is.... playing nurse and dutifully following the doctor's instructions for tending to an infection on my nephew's (very ticklish) foot on Christmas Eve - without complaining or cringing.

I'm a very good aunt.

Also, I hope he remembers that moment when I'm 90 years old and need him to drive me to the grocery store or bingo or something.

2011 Year in Review

Over the course of my youth, I spent a lot of time my bedroom watching Style with Elsa Klensch. During the runway portions of the show, my eyes were glued to my tiny 10-inch TV. But when Ms. Klensch  interviewed designers, I'd busy myself with sketching my own couture creations on paper fastened to a clip board that I propped up on my lap with a pillow. However, I keenly recall one interview with a designer that caused me to look up from whatever masterpiece I was creating. Ms. Klensch was interviewing Donna Karan, and Ms. Karan was talking about how her positive attitude helped make her successful. I remember her discussing her penchant for always looking at the bright side of things, and she uttered something like, "If the ceiling caved in, I'd probably think, 'Well, I have always wanted a skylight.'" I've never forgotten that sentiment, and I believe her philosophy has influenced my own life.

As 2011 wraps up and I reflect back upon my year, I'm realizing that despite the grandiose goals I set last January, which I subsequently failed to achieve, I'm coming out of this year stronger and happier than ever. There were some highs, a few lows, but even the lows from this year turned out to be good things once I viewed them at a different angle.

One highlight from 2011 was discovering a passion for yoga. While I've been a faithful and consistent gym member for nearly six years, I'd always neglected yoga. But I went to a class last January and have been smitten ever since. I now try to incorporate yoga into my regimen at least once a week. Through yoga, I've learned how to stay calm and implore deep breathing in challenging situations. I've also learned to celebrate my successes and forgive my failures, which are lessons I now rely on heavily outside of the yoga studio.

On a related note, I joined a new gym a few months ago that has already proven to be one of the best decisions I've ever made. Although I loved my last gym, I was quickly sold on the fact that the new gym is less expensive and has a rooftop pool!!! But more than that, I happened to meet a wonderful personal trainer who has already challenged me beyond what I believed I could do. I've always been pretty good at pushing myself, but having someone else push me is a new experience for me that is just what I need at this point in my life. Working out is one of my favorite things to do, and the gym is one of my favorite places to be, so discovering that it is possible to enjoy it even more has definitely been a highlight of 2011.

Additionally, my passion for volunteering has grown tremendously this year! Although mentoring takes up a good chunk of my time, I still often feel that "I'm not doing enough," and am constantly compelled to do more. So, I began volunteering at House of the Good Shepherd in September, which is a domestic violence shelter for mothers and their children, and I've been helping out there several times a month because I'm so drawn to their cause. In fact, I had a holiday party last Saturday and requested that each guest bring an item to donate to HGS in lieu of bringing food for the party. My friends' generosity went above and beyond any expectations I had, and now I need to find a way to haul the loot to the facility. This is a very good problem to have. But while I really enjoy volunteering at HGS, nothing really compares to the bond I've created and nurtured with my mentee, which you can read more about in this post. By the time 2011 is officially over, I will have officially put in 167.67 volunteer hours since January. The world doesn't treat me better because I do good things, but I don't expect it to do so. I choose to volunteer because I truly believe that I have a responsibility on this planet to contribute to those in need.

A "low" that I now see as a "high" was finding out I needed to cancel my plans to go to Italy and drop $5k on a dental treatment, which I'm certain you are all sick of hearing about by now. This was devastating news when I found out, but I'm not devastated. In fact, because I was already saving for Italy, I had enough money to pay for the procedure and didn't need to use too much of my savings. Oh, and by the way, although my last post said I'd be getting my new tooth last Monday, I found out instead that I needed to wait two more weeks. But, what's two weeks after three months? I've really mastered the fine art of patience in 2011, and if patience were an Olympic event, I'd bring home gold. I did get a "permanent temporary," though, so at least no more retainer. 5 more days...deep breath...5...more...days...

Another "low" that I now see as a "high" was my computer crashing in June, right about the same time I found out about my tooth. I lost four years worth of journals and countless photos. The upside to this is that I know a guy who knows a guy who knows how to fix computers. Thankfully, I live in Chicago, where everyone "knows a guy." I paid a mere 50 bucks for Mr. Guy (I seriously don't even know his name) to totally rebuild my computer, and now it's like brand new. But while my 'puter was out of service, I basically began substituting journaling with blogging (at work, shhh). Through journaling in my blog, I've exposed my very honest thoughts and very real flaws. But I believe that being open and vulnerable in a public space has translated to my life outside of the blogosphere, as I've realized that the more open and authentic I am, the more people wonderful people I'm able to allow into my life.

Although I didn't find myself traveling down a new career path, and even though I couldn't go to Italy or haven't yet fallen in love with Mr. Right-For-Me, I still managed to have a pretty decent year. I created wonderful memories with friends and family, and isn't that the most important stuff in life anyway? Don't get me wrong - I'm still hell bent on achieving these goals. And after the tremendous amount of learning and growing I accomplished in 2011, I feel armed with the tools to take on 2012 and make it the best year yet.

All I Want For Christmas...

Is my new front tooth... my new front tooth!

And I'm getting it! On Monday! After three long months and too much money, I'm finally going to be able to flash my full, authentic grin again. No more self-consciously stifling laughs because I'm afraid people can tell I'm donning a fraudulent chopper. (If you missed my post containing details of my tooth surgery, you can view it here.)

Getting a new, permanent tooth is something I can definitely bump to the top of my list of "Things I Never Thought Would Excite Me." It's been a long three months of healing, but it hasn't been as awful as I expected. Despite wearing a retainer and feeling like an awkward middle school nerd all over again, I really didn't have to modify my life all that much.Oh, except for avoiding sandwiches. For the love of all that his holy, I cannot wait to bite into a sammich again!!

Also, I had good company during my healing process - celebrities Evan Rachel Wood and Steven Tyler both suffered from tooth mishaps within the past three months that caused them to require implants, just like yours truly. I really appreciated Steven Tyler's sense of humor about his own incident, as evidenced during his interview for the Today Show when he shouted the phrase, "You can't handle the tooth!" This, of course, sent me into a fit of giggles, as I find my own situation quite humorous.

And although I wasn't thrilled to forgo my trip to Italy to pay for my tooth surgery, I have always been self-conscious about my 'problem' tooth, which was crooked and darker than the rest of my teeth. My new smile will  be straight and pearly white. I never would have justified spending so much money to fix my grin had I not needed to fix the 'root' (haha) of the problem. Therefore, I'm thankful for the confidence I'll be gaining with my new smile.

Additionally, I can finally allow myself to date again! I chose to take myself out of the dating game during the three months of bone healing, because I just couldn't stomach having an extremely awkward conversation with a potential mate about how "I have to remove my retainer with a fake tooth attached to it in order to brush my teeth." The horrors! But, not being able to date the past three months has really given me time to sort out all of my head junk and realize that life is short, so I just need to get out there and have fun. What a concept! I've realized that I'm not looking for a husband, per se, I'm looking for someone with whom to connect. Since it's difficult enough for me to find someone with whom I'm attracted to both physically and emotionally, I should just concentrate on finding someone who embodies both, and then just let life take me from there. I believe diving back into dating with this attitude will make going on dates much more enjoyable. Going forward, I'm choosing to ignore 'must-have lists' and 'deal-breakers,' because I truly feel that when you finally find that rare, elusive chemistry with someone, you are more willing to forgive and forget those 'must-haves' and so-called, 'deal-breakers' anyway. Also, by not projecting my expectations onto every person I date, I may actually begin to appreciate my dates for the people they are, instead of focusing on who I want them to be - an attitude that could yield some unexpectedly pleasant results.

Bottom line - I'm not devastated that I had to go skip out on Italy to go through this tooth deal. It's a fact of life that curve balls are thrown at us all, and I'm finding that this whole experience is just another example of how life sometimes leads you down a wonky path, but to have faith that it always leads you in the right direction.

To Whom it May Concern

"Dear whoever you may be, I'm still waiting patiently."

I went to The Civil Wars show last Sunday, and this lyric is the last line from their song, Tho Whom It May Concern. That song is my personal anthem right now.

Which brings me to the point of this post: I'm sooooo over being single.

Despite what I may be conveying to family, friends and society or whatever, my goal is not to be a female George Clooney. Not that I can easily love and leave supermodels whenever I want, but you catch my drift, right? I do want to commit myself to a partner in crime I can trust to stick by me for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live, dammit.

Surrrrre, being single can be SUPER fun! But it's only really enjoyable when you are fairly certain that your single status is only temporary, and when most of your girlfriends are single too. But when you've been single for two looooong years, and your best girls have been paired up for the majority of the time you've been single, it's easy to get discouraged and let your faith in finding the right guy slip into an abyss of cynicism.

After being inundated with information and advice during the past two years regarding dating, relationships, and marriage, I am finally convinced that two is better than one. And sometimes I think finding the right guy for me should be much easier than the years of bad relationships and slew of bad dates (or, bouts of no dates) I've endured. I hear stories all the time of chance meetings that turn into intentional relationships. In fact, I have a Facebook friend who met her husband via an errant text message.

And yet, one can walk into any book store and find an entire section dedicated to literature (for women, by women!) about how to capture a man and sustain a relationship. So, clearly, it's not supposed to be simple, right? Or, conversely, there must be something wrong with me, right?

Although I'm a very independent and self-sufficient woman, I have to admit that for the first time since I was a hormonal and sullen teenager, I feel pathetic about being single. Ouch. It actually hurts to admit that, because I hold a lot of pride in my independence. At 33, though, I've more than proven a point to myself that I can very well stand on my own two feet. Hell, I've learned to stand on one foot and not fall over.

Also, I don't think I've ever been single for this long, and it's frustrating. It's not fun being the odd-numbered wheel and having the waitstaff awkwardly squeeze in an extra chair at the table when dining with my coupled friends. Being the only one going home alone at the end of the evening is also not fun. And maybe I could afford to join them on all the mini-vacations they take throughout the year if only I could split the cost with a significant other. The constant and glaring reminders that I'm my only one and only are utterly heartbreaking at times.

People haven't told me that I'm "too picky," but I can't help wonder if they are thinking it? Well, I'll admit, I am picky. But I don't really intend to be so obsessively selective. I just don't feel what I'm supposed to feel with many guys I meet. While some girls fall in love with whomever asks them for a date, I am the complete opposite of those girls. I'm less than enthused about most guys. I try fighting this feeling by giving guys many more chances than I should, because I hate easily dismissing people. But despite my best efforts, my instincts are usually all up in my face telling me when I'm dealing with Mr.Wrong.

I just can't get over how many Mr. Wrongs I've encountered! Despite the excellent stories that result, having been on so many bad dates is making me feel like I'm the problem. I am a terrible chooser of dates. For crying out loud, I am a terrible chooser of dates! How many more tortuous encounters must this introvert endure before I meet the guy who makes me nervous because I have butterflies and not because I want to bolt? Sometimes I wonder if it will ever happen.

I can't believe I'm going to use this particular example, but do you know how on the show, Say Yes To the Dress, the consultants warn against trying on too many dresses, for fear that the bride will become too overwhelmed and not be able to make a decision about which one she likes best, if at all? Well, what if I've "tried on too many dresses," and I'll never really be happy with any of them because I keep thinking that something better must be available out there somewhere? *Light bulb!* This could potentially be a major reason I'm still single.

I may not be able to undo my many dating disasters (and thank goodness, because it's a lot of fun to tell the headlock story). But perhaps I should be a little more open to letting dates choose me, instead of me choosing someone and projecting all of my expectations onto that person before getting to know them, which inevitably leaves me disappointed.

Suck it, Singles!

Yes, I have been single for forever, and yes, I would love nothing more than to find that special someone. But I have to admit that part of the reason I feel that way is because, despite women's best efforts for equality, there is a stigma that remains for single women in their 30's. I'm absolutely floored by the pressure to get married in our society because it's not like married people don't have their own troubles. The grass isn't always greener.

But in fact just last week I read a bunch of articles about how, despite the growing demographic, this world is just not kind to the single lady. According to one article, lonely people don't sleep as well as their coupled peers. According to another article, single women have far more trouble getting ahead financially, especially regarding saving for retirement. And did you know that, according to yet another article, a book has been written about how there is now such a thing called "singlism?" Like racism, and ageism, etc., but referring to discrimination against single women. Are you kidding me?

I feel like Sex and the City made it trendy to be single in your 30's, but that trend died right along with the progressive-thinking TV series, and everyone has returned to the usual business of applying pity stickers on single women. And, in fact, even Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte all ended up smitten by the end of the series.

My eternally wise and wonderful Aunt Denise (who understands me more than I do sometimes, and is a major source of good, honest advice) recently sent me this article from The Huffington Post:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/09/20/single-married-happier_n_972397.html

It's about the happiness of single women vs. married, and while the level of happiness is fairly equal, one of the main reasons single women aren't happy with their single status is because of the pity society places on them for not being paired up. I totally agree with this idea. I'm annoyed every time I have to tell someone I'm still single, mostly because of the impending judgement, and telling people through clenched teeth that "I'm single, but I'm happy," isn't very convincing.

A lot of women choose to be single though, and good for them! I support any non-traditional life choice, like a good liberal girl should. I, however, am not necessarily single by choice. I actually want to be in a relationship. But I'm having trouble finding someone.

As much as I want to be in a relationship though, I'm accepting of the fact that God, the universe, or whatever other-worldly power simply doesn't feel I'm ready to be in a solid, committed relationship right now. I just wish there wasn't so much pressure in our society to get hitched, making single gals feel like total losers until they find a guy - ANY guy - who will do them the honor. All of the wedding shows on cable networks like Bravo and TLC only contribute to the delusion that a wedding is the single most important event in one's life. I can't even help but be sucked into it sometimes. But what about the marriage? Shouldn't we doll out credit to those women who remained single for as long as they needed to in order to find someone with whom to share a successful union?

Additionally, shows like Why Am I Still Single? and Tough Love only fuel the idea that all single people are alone because something must be seriously wrong with them. These shows cause rather normal single viewers to obsessively pick themselves apart when, in fact, the "subjects" were only chosen to be on the show because they are insane (clearly). And insane people generate ratings.

With crappy TV like this constantly shoved down our optical nerves, the fact there is so much wedding obsession in our culture and simultaneously so much divorce is no coincidence. But I'd rather be single a thousand times over than be in a shitty relationship.

I am thankful that I have the ability to stand my ground, ignore the lure of the hoopla (unlike a certain Kardashian), and be patient and still enough (thank you, yoga!) to shut out the outside judgement and listen strictly to my inner voice, which would love to politely tell society, "I'M SINGLE, BUT IT'S OK! I'M WORKING ON IT, DAMMIT!"

My Multi-Colored Parachute

As I've made abundantly clear in previous posts, I do not like my job. Besides hating the actual work, the environment is severely unhealthy. I truly believe that working amidst such bad vibes over the years has crushed my spirit and stunted my confidence. Sure, I've been promoted three times within the last eight years, and I'm incredibly thankful to be employed and to earn a decent salary, but is it worth being super miserable for 40 hours a week? I have to keep repeating the phrase, "It could be worse. It could be worse." But could it also be better? I have my doubts, and those doubts are the reason I'm stuck in workplace purgatory.

I often think about what I'd rather be doing for 8 hours a day, and turns out, there is plenty I'd rather be doing.

For example, I love writing so much that time seems to quickly melt away whenever my mind is translating thoughts and ideas into words. I also really like being creative, and I'd redecorate my living space weekly if I had the time and money.

Additionally, I love working with children, and I feel most in my element and most confident when I'm helping them. This is why I allow volunteering with kids to take up a huge chunk of my free time. I also absolutely love working out, which also takes up a huge amount of my time. I love talking about fitness, I love reading about it, and I just love how it makes me feel, because I love pushing myself physically and mentally.

So, I guess if I were to combine all of my passions into one occupation, then I would design a fitness center for underprivileged children and blog about it. Is that a thing? Does it pay well? Good health benefits? Decent retirement plan? No? Nothing like that?

Realistically, I'd be happy doing anything that had to do with any one of my passions. Hell, I'd be happy just being my own boss.

Unfortunately, I wasn't fully self aware during college (who is?!), so I majored in communications without a clear idea about where I wanted that major to lead me. I thought advertising might be super cool, but when I moved to Chicago and met people in advertising working at least 12 - 14 hour days, I realized that I could never care enough about any hot new product to let it suck up so much of my life. But, I would spend 24 hours a day doing any of my aforementioned "passions."

I feel as though my generation got the short end of the stick. Because the economy has been a wreck ever since we graduated ten years ago, we've been forced to set aside the idea of  "following our dreams," and instead "follow what is most practical." And to me, what is most practical is a salary that allows me to live and thrive on my own, health insurance, and vacation days.

I have been looking for other jobs. The search has been quite discouraging so far, however, as a lot of what sounds good either pays a lot less than what I make, or is completely outside of the realm of my qualifications. And unfortunately, as a single woman with nothing to fall back on, I can't justify taking a risk, taking a pay cut, or going back to school when I'm still paying for the first round.

Additionally, the poor economy has made me gun shy, as I'm afraid I'll start work at a new place only to fear being laid off at any moment. In fact, I don't really know a "normal" when my job wasn't dangling over my head. So, staying put and hanging on to all those accumulated vacation days until I find something I know will be secure and rewarding makes the most sense to me.

Despite the roadblocks and my concerns though, I really do believe that something better is out there. It has to be. I'm not giving up. But until I find a new job, my current one will remain the means for me to live my otherwise full life.

A Delightful Decade

Happy 10th birthday to my most favorite person in the entire universe - my nephew, Ethan! During the past ten years I have experienced more unconditional love than I ever thought my heart had the capacity to handle. Even though we live several states apart, we share a remarkable bond that keeps us quite close. Being an aunt is the single most important and wonderful privilege I've ever known. Thank you, Ethan, for coming into this world and making me smile more, laugh more, love more, and live more over the last decade!

Also, I never dreamed that when I held him in my arms for the first time a decade ago, that exactly ten years from then we'd be fist pumping in my parent's kitchen together.

2001

2011

A Missed Connection, A Shared Connection

I had an odd experience on the train this morning during my commute to work. While I was waiting on the platform for the train, I observed a mother and her child sitting on a bench also waiting for the train. Her little guy was probably about seven or eight years old, and he was quietly working on some schoolwork. His young mother sat staring off into the distance, seemingly not present in the moment. Her expression was blank, but in my heart I felt as though she may be hurting in some way. As the train approached, I felt compelled to get on the same car as they did, even though it wasn't the closest car from where I was standing. The train was pretty full, so I ended up standing next to the boy with his mother on the other side. As the train took off, the boy wasn't holding on because he was busy fumbling with his notebook and back pack. The train took a predictable sharp turn, and when I saw that the boy was going to lose his balance, I instinctively held my arm out to keep him from toppling over until he could get a grip. His mother seemed oblivious to anything that was going on, but this made me more sad for her than angry.

As people were getting on and off the train, a double seat opened up within a few stops, enabling the boy and his mom to sit in front of where I was standing. The boy wasted no time whipping out his school work again, and it looked like he was working on spelling words, as I observed a list he was making down the page. And seconds later, my instincts about his mother proved to be spot on, as I noticed tears in her eyes. She was quick to wipe them away and was doing her best to conceal her feelings, but it was too late. Seeing her so upset instantly broke my own heart, and tears welled up in my eyes simply from speculating about what could be making her so sad.

I can't explain why I had such an emotional reaction to this perfect stranger. I obviously had no idea why she was upset, but I am human, so I know what suffering looks and feels like, and it always breaks my heart. I think it bothers me so much because I don't know if certain gentle souls are strong enough to handle the crap that life has a tendency to throw at them. And in this case, she has a helpless child who depends on her to be strong.

I was so affected by the woman and her son that I inadvertently stayed on that train, as opposed to connecting to a different train line that takes me closer to my office. I wanted to ask this woman if she was going to be OK; I wanted to give her a hug and tell her that everything was going to be OK, even though I can't possibly know if that's true. I really hope that woman is much stronger than I perceived her to be - for the sake of herself and her child. I hope that she has people in her life who love and care about her and can comfort her with whatever she may be going through.

In addition to mentoring, I've also been volunteering with kids at a shelter for battered women, so I'm wondering if being exposed to so many kids from broken homes contributed to my reaction on the train this morning? It absolutely kills me to know that so many women and children are in pain. And the fact that I'm only seeing a tiny fraction of people in this world that are struggling breaks my heart even more. My parents aren't perfect, but I had a near-perfect childhood, and to think that there are children out there witnessing and also shouldering the burden of their parents' pain makes me wish I had the means to somehow save them all from heartache. Why does life have to be so effing hard for good people?

OK, I know this hasn't been a very uplifting post thus far, so what you may find humorous is that the mother on the train instantly seemed to set aside her problems when she saw my crazy ass wiping away tears. She must have been so confused, but she just stared at me with the same concerned and compassionate look that I had probably been giving her just moments earlier. I wasn't about to make her uncomfortable and tell her that it was her tears that were breaking my heart and causing my eyes to spring a leak, so I desperately worked to pull myself together.

I just can't get over how the heartache of a stranger affected me in such a way that my instincts were fully in tune to her emotions, and I wonder if she sensed it too. As wrapped up and involved as we are with our own highs and lows in life, today's morning commute served as a true testament and reminder of the powerful connection humans share.

My subway stop was before theirs, so I offered the mother a smile as I was exiting the train, even though I felt compelled to offer so much more. I at least hope that I see that mother and her son in my neighborhood again, on what seems to be a better day for her.

Stream of Consciousness...

Warning: Post about random thoughts ahead! I normally don't write posts lacking a distinctive theme, but since four year's worth of my journal entries were destroyed when my computer crashed last June, this seems like a safer way to store my thoughts for now.

Italy
I've been thinking of Italy a lot lately, probably because if original plans would've worked out, I would be heading there in just about a month from now. I found myself (perhaps subconsciously) at Cafe Rome, an Italian cafe located in my office building, twice this week. Once for a latte, and once for gelato. An incomparable substitute, but a substitute nonetheless.

Actually, maybe I'm just thinking about Italy because it's the location of this season's Jersey Shore. Yikes. I expected that the JS kids - while highly entertaining - would fail to blaze a respectable trail for future American tourists, and so far they've exceeded my expectations. In fact, now that I think about it, the image of Team Meatball flashing their "kookas" all over town is probably pretty fresh in the minds of innocent Italian civilians. So, it's probably best to postpone my trip until the disaster that is the cast of Jersey Shore is no longer associated with American tourists. Can I get an amen?! How 'bout a fist pump?!

Tooth Stuff
As I've mentioned in a previous post, the direct result of postponing my aforementioned trip to Italy is due to the $5k worth of oral surgery my dentist discovered I needed last June. Well, I'm happy to report that I'm now post-op, and everything went well. I had to have a front tooth removed and had to get an implant with bone grafting. It's a procedure that not a single dental insurance carrier covers, but I found it quite necessary even though insurance bureaucrats do not. Anyway, my dentist told me this would be the best solution after she discovered that the bone near one of my front teeth was basically dissolving. This was occurring due to an injury I suffered when I was only nine years old, and the tooth has been a problem ever since. I wish I could tell people that I was a "rough and tumble" sort of child, and that the trauma resulted from an awesome monkey bar mishap, or a soccer injury where I sacrificed my body to block a goal. But sadly, I only have the fact that I'm a life-long klutz to blame. (I tripped. In my parent's living room.)

After the procedure of having a screw drilled into my face, the implant site then requires three months to heal and allow for the synthetic bone material to adhere to the real bone before getting a permanent crown. So, during the three month interim, I'm wearing a temporary denture while in public. During the first two weeks post op, I'd feel like such a hillbilly every time I'd walk out the door, despite donning my acrylic substitute. I'm pretty much used to it now, but I'm still hyper aware of it when I talk to people. And before having the surgery, I really thought it would be traumatizing each time I'd look into a mirror at home for the several months that there wasn't a tooth in place. Quite the opposite has occurred, however. It makes me giggle SO much! Mostly, I feel like a 32 year old 1st grader, which in itself is funny, but I find myself doing hillbilly impressions in the mirror to no one's amusement but my own.

But I don't just contain laughing at myself like an idiot to the privacy of my own home! Noooooo! I was at Target a week or so ago shopping for soft foods (of course). When I plucked a packet of rice off the shelf, a fellow shopper, who incidentally had no teeth, asked me, "Eesh that shtuff any good?" Ummm, it's rice, I thought. But not wanting to insult my fellow toothless comrade, I refrained from a smart ass reply and simply said, "Yeah, I like it." He then proceeded to tell me how he likes to cook rice with "tuna feesh." The first thought that ran through my mind was to ask him to go Hillbilly Handfishin' with me. I immediately rounded the corner to the next aisle, desperately trying to stifle my giggles. I didn't want him to think I was making fun of him! Quite the opposite, in fact, as I could relate to his struggle with whistling 's' words.

Dating
I met a guy in late July who seemed quite promising, and we even made it to four dates, despite the overwhelming results from a poll taken amongst my family members when we were all together for my cousin's wedding last month. They made it very clear that, because of his lack of chivalry on our second date, that he should not be granted a third date.

I met John for our first date at a beer garden situated in a neighborhood between our own neighborhoods. We each had a couple drinks and lots of great conversation. Score! For our second date, he suggested a very fancy sushi restaurant downtown. The fact that he took the reigns regarding the planning of this date thoroughly impressed me, so I was excited. And the level of excitement remained high... until the bill came. Even though I was 99.9% certain he'd be a gentleman and pick up the tab, I did the obligatory reach-for-purse-and-offer-to-help-pay move anyway. He then caught me off guard by saying, "So right down the middle works?" I was certainly taken aback, because he planned this whole thing, and when I plan a date, I also plan to pay. If I had known that I was going to have to fork over dough on that particular Sunday evening, I would have suggested the cheapo taco stand under the El tracks in my up-and-coming neighborhood, as opposed to fancy schmancy downtown fare. Instead, I reluctantly paid my half. But his lack of chivalry certainly rubbed me the wrong way, and my Aunt Diana told me I should have said, in response to him assuming we'd be splitting the bill, "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't bring my wallet. I thought this was a date!"

So what on earth possessed me to agree to a third date, you ask? I guess I really liked our conversations? I thought he was cute? I liked that I didn't have him all figured out by the first two dates? Oh wait - he offered to cook me dinner. And anyone who knows me knows that the way to my heart is through my stomach. I thought this could be a redeeming date, especially because the dinner did live up to his incessant bragging about his cooking skills. But, I was deathly allergic to his cat! In fact, I was such an allergic mess that I had to leave immediately following dinner so as not to die of asphyxiation. Also, and possibly the more important reason for making an abrupt exit, the central piece of decor in the living room of his fancy loft was one of those hideous carpeted cat tower thingies. Barfity barf barf.

So what on earth possessed me to agree to a fourth date, you ask? I have no idea, except for maybe I'm insane? Anyway, I agreed and he told me I should plan the date. So, I randomly intentionally chose to get dinner at the cheapo taco stand under the El tracks in my up-and-coming neighborhood (I'm no dummy!). He pulled out his wallet at the register once we finished ordering. I reflexively executed the reach-for-purse-and-offer-to-help-pay move. (I assume this move is a subconscious reflex developed in women only after years of fruitless dating.) Without a word from me, John spotted the wallet in my hand and said, "Oh you got it? OK." and put his wallet back in his pocket. And at that moment I realized that he would never get it, but I was really hungry so I decided not to angrily bolt out of the place like I had momentarily envisioned in my head.

He was then rude to the super friendly owner by giving him a "note" that the ginger in the fish tacos (which were complimentary with our order) was "too strong." What a d!ck. As we were leaving, he told me that my restaurant selection was great - and SO cheap! Yeah, especially cheap for you, buddy.

Instantly cured of my insanity, I did not agree to any more dates with him.

Great Unexpectations

Over the past few years, I have developed the belief that the universe has its way of shuffling us in the right direction in life. While it's easy to understand how good experiences move us forward, I also firmly believe that every problem and failure is a blessing in disguise (most often revealing itself in hindsight).

If it hadn't been for my motivation to get into the AUSL teaching program last year, I can't guarantee that I would have become a mentor with Mercy Home's Friends First program. Becoming a mentor had been in the back of my mind for years, but had I not been convinced that I needed experience working with children to gain acceptance into the teaching program, I may have been discouraged by all of the hoop jumping required to become a mentor. But because my eyes were focused on the "prize," I dutifully filled out enough paperwork to make trees cringe, took the El out to a part of the city that's more suburb than urb for fingerprinting, and used a half personal day to get a physical and TB test, in addition to attending all of the interviews and training sessions.

What I didn't realize then, and am so eternally grateful for now, was that the actual "prize" wasn't becoming a teacher at all - it was becoming a mentor. Even before I found out that I had not been accepted into the teaching program, I knew that mentoring was going to make a special impact on my life.

Today is my one year anniversary as a mentor with Friends First. I can hardly believe it has been 365 days since I met my marvelous mentee. Although I'm the mentor, we've both grown leaps and bounds just from spending time together. I credit mentoring for helping me become a better communicator, leader and friend. Being a mentor also serves as a reminder of the value I place on commitment and dedication in my life.

Mentoring has taught me a lot, but I'm not sure I would have learned as much as I have if my mentee wasn't such an outstanding individual. Her positive attitude, resiliency and eagerness to take in all the good the world has to offer is inspiring to me. She is sweet, smart, funny, outgoing, respectful, appreciative, helpful, determined and responsible. Although we've been together for a year, it took much less than a year for us to grow quite close. We've developed inside jokes (mostly about my horrible singing), learned each other's quirks, and are even able to read how each other feels just by a facial expression, which includes a "dance face."

Even when we aren't together, I'll think of something that happened during one of our outings and giggle. We're both clumsy, so that fact itself resulted in plenty of comic relief throughout our year. For instance, during our first outing after ringing in 2011, she was reenacting counting down to the new year (5! 4!...etc.) while we were crossing the street, until she tripped over the curb and completely wiped out on "1!" We consequently burst into giggles, and I'd catch myself giggling about it for weeks following. And another time, as she told me about a good grade she received in math, I gasped in excitement and then wiped out on some ice. "I guess I'm REALLY excited about your grades," I'd said. We didn't stop laughing until we got to the bus stop.

In addition to humor, we are both proud to be nerds. We love vocabulary words, and she'll never hesitate to stop me when I use a word she doesn't know to ask for its meaning. She then repeats the word a few times and makes it a goal to use it at school the next week. We also love to visit museums and learn about other cultures. We frequently discuss strong female characters in history, including Jane Addams, whose own museum we subsequently visited after seeing a display about her at the Chicago History Museum. Our love of learning, in fact, is going to be the theme for the Friends First newsletter that she and I will be on the cover of next quarter!

And speaking of learning, she has brought home all A's and B's since I became her mentor. She confessed that she hadn't had such good grades since 3rd grade. I intentionally put an emphasis on the importance of school and getting involved, and so we take time to celebrate her accomplishments in school and sports. In fact, during a meeting with my Match Support Rep, he relayed to me that she said I'm the first person she thinks of when she does something well in school, because she knows I'll be so proud of her. And being genuinely proud of her is what I most certainly am.

Additionally, to acknowledge that our year together has exceeded my expectations would be an understatement. Actually, it would be a lie. As I reflect on our year, I'm realizing that during the course of our time together, my expectations were virtually flipped into unexpected results. Here are some of my expectations going into the program compared with what actually happened:

• I expected to be matched with a pre-teen who was more "pre" than "teen."
• I didn't expect that she would morph from "pre" to "teen" right before my eyes.

• I expected that our activities would always be creative, imaginative and entertaining.
• I didn't expect that our trips on the El or random strolls through various neighborhoods would spur conversations that contributed to the most significant moments in our friendship.

• I expected to be her biggest cheerleader.
• I didn't expect that she would become mine. When we were rock climbing, for example, I cheered her on as she barely struggled to scale to the top. I had a more difficult time scaling up that wall, but hearing her cheer me on made me realize that there was no way I could quit, ultimately letting her see me fail, so I fought to conquer the wall as well. It was exhilarating for us to be proud of each other.

• I expected to take her out of her comfort zone and expose her to new things as often as possible.
• I didn't expect her to get (okay, drag) me out of mine. Hello!? Ice skating!

• I expected to develop a strong bond with her and be her biggest confidant.
• I never expected to sometimes feel as though I need her more than she needs me.

• Finally, I expected to commit myself to the mentoring program for one year.
• I didn't expect to be so eager to commit myself to a second year.

Becoming a mentor with Friends First has been one of the best experiences of my life. While few and far between, there have been challenges (heading out in bad weather and feeling under the weather, for example) but there has not been one single outing when I wasn't happy to have spent time with her, regardless of the activity. The completion of 365 days just doesn't seem like the natural ending point for us, and so I can't wait to see what adventures lie before us in our 2nd year!

Mentor & mentee mural painting for Artists of the Wall project on the lakefront in the Rogers Park neighborhood. We painted the yellow section, and ours are the red & green hand prints near the bottom left.

Date'n Dash

I typically give guys 1 to 3 dates for me to decide whether or not I'm genuinely interested in them. Some guys make it very easy for me to decide I don't like them and some take a little more time to hand over their crazy on a plate. In any case, I have this terrible habit of pretending I don't exist once I decide I want nothing to do with someone. I'm well aware that the mature thing would be to utilize some form of modern communication explaining how I think they are a nice person, blah, blah, blah, but I just don't think we're a good fit, blah, blah, blah. Instead, when it's clear that romantic feelings are present for the guy while non-existent for me, I am filled with dread and anxiety over each subsequent attempt at communication from him. I adamantly ignore messages and avoid my phone, not unlike a scared child hiding under the covers to be safe from the monster in the closet. I then dramatically complain to my friends that "Mr. Wrong/Mr. Blah/Mr. Bad Kisser will not relent! He just keeps calling/texting/emailing/carrier pigeon-ing me messages!"

Despite my nonsensical behavior, I actually do realize that I can easily make those messages go buh-bye by simply being up front and honest. So why do I instead treat my message-infested phone like a hideous insect, yet refuse to blast it with a good dose of Raid?

Well, historically, the "up front and honest" method has backfired on me. No matter how honest I am, some guys just don't get the hint. I'll admit that I have a tendency to be slightly passive, but after some awkward bone throwing, I eventually make myself clear. The sad lads finally catch my long-winded drift, but as a consequence, I've been yelled at,  I've been told (far too prematurely), "But, I love you!," and I've been accused of being too harsh. So either I'm instantly hated, or the desperate attempts ensue, only making the situation more uncomfortable than it has to be. No wonder I despise letting guys down.

Some dates, though, have been so mind-blowing bad that I'm simply left at a loss for words or am too traumatized to respond to any contact ever again - even when I could easily reply with a message of dump-age. For example, the intense German who put me in a headlock several times during our date in a "come here ol' buddy ol' pal" sort of way, then later picking me up and dropping me to the floor after misjudging the placement of the bar stool, did NOT deserve any communication post-date, in my opinion.

And the sportscaster who kissed me so hard that my lips were bruised the next day? He didn't deserve a polite "You are soooooo great but..." message either, but that's mostly because I was rendered speechless as well as fat-lipped. He was nice and all, but I just didn't have the motivation to teach a 30 year old a skill he should have mastered in high school.

Just a few months ago, on the third date with a pilot who invited me to a birthday party for a girl he met on Match.com (unknown to me beforehand, of course), Mr. Pilot tried to pick a fight with a dude who was hitting on one of his "girl" friends, and then he proceeded to get so insanely drunk that he couldn't sign his tab. This disappointing third date that followed two previous great dates left me so shocked that I couldn't even dream of what to say to him, so I chose to dive into a virtual bunker for protection from potential post-date communication attempts.

And most recently, after a date at a Cubs game, I couldn't bear to return the messages of a burly yet baby-faced dude with a thick Boston accent and a voice of a giant, mostly because every time his messages popped up on my phone, I instantly recalled him bragging about his "sex friendly" apartment, and this made me want to barf.

But then there were other guys who have committed no such offenses that I've still chosen to ignore rather than confront. For instance, no fault can be placed on the sweet guy with the exceptionally small frame that made me feel like I was more woman than he could handle, and whose tiny hand I nearly crushed during an awkward high five moment on our date. And the boring date with whom I had one drink in 1 hour and 38 minutes cannot be blamed for his bad personality, which I likened to that of a phone book.

Ignoring bad dates makes me feel bad. But confronting them also sucks the soul out of me. Dating is rough - I've always thought so! Are there rules set somewhere in stone saying that we have to consistently suffer until we meet the One and Only who will save us from the dating war zone? Perhaps it's evolutionary that bad dates are supposed to shuffle us along into monogamy, making us want to stay there. I can deal with the bad dates, as virtually every date be considered bad until you find the right mate. But couldn't we at least agree to lighten up on the rejection process a little? For the love of all that is holy, can't we soften the blow a bit?!?

By the time we hit our 30's, I feel there should be a dating code for rejection. The universal sign for "I'm just not that into you" should simply be ceased communication. I would actually prefer if a guy dumped me via ignoring me. The last thing I want to hear is an excuse, because whatever the excuse, women are smart enough by age 30 to know it's crap. (If you haven't learned this by your 30th birthday, then you should have been held back in grade twenty something until you did learn this!) If you really like someone, you're never "too busy" or things don't "just suddenly come up." Likewise, I don't need to hear the perfunctorily delivered speech that virtually always begins with, "I like you, BUT..." No, you don't like me. Otherwise you wouldn't be including a condition in your sentence. I don't like to hear excuses, and I equally despise giving them. 

Although, while I totally "get it" and can very quickly move on when it's obvious a new guy isn't interested in me, I think some people prefer  require harsher dumping methods. Perhaps some people are just hardwired to need clear, concise, blunt messages in their 20's, 30's and beyond. Maybe a line graph chart deliberately outlining exactly at which point things went wrong could be a useful method. I imagine myself setting up an easel and using one of those long pointing sticks to enhance my visual dumping aid. "Well, Mr. I'm-Just-Not-That-Into-You, our first date was marked at 85%, which is great for a first date! Good job! The line stays fairly steady for the second date, which is why the next point is hovering at about 87%. Congrats! But I'm sure you're questioning why your stock plummeted dramatically from the 2nd to the 3rd date? Well, remember when you got so drunk that you couldn't find your house? Yeah, that's why at 0.0002% I have decided not to move forward with our courtship. I'm sure you understand."

Of course, I don't think it would ever be socially acceptable to be this blunt, nor would I have the guts to pull it off considering my tendency to play hide-and-don't-seek, but if Ms. Patty Millionaire Matchmaker features my aforementioned graph idea on one of her TV episodes, I swear I'm suing the Louboutins off of her.

Sweat the Sweet Stuff

So we're already a little more than halfway into 2011 and my three goals for this year have taken a turn for the non-existent. I'm struggling to maintain peace with my job, but I haven't been looking for another one. Italy has been postponed indefinitely because I recently found out that I need to have oral surgery that will set me back $5k. And while my dating life seemed to be holding promise for a short while, it very shortly thereafter circled the drain into oblivion (more on that disaster in a later post).

But instead of labeling this summer the "Summer of Suck," I'm choosing to respond to these problems with the best possible attitude and focus on the positive aspects of my summer thus far. After all, the "problems" I'm dealing with are (using a term my friend Jennie referenced), "champagne problems." I'm definitely not lost to the fact that things could be so much worse. Self-pity has never gotten anyone anywhere, so what's the point? I allowed myself to be upset for a hot minute (mostly about having to drop $5k on ONE TOOTH), and then I chose to move on.

Anyhoo, one such positive aspect of my summer thus far was my annual July trip to Ohio. Last year's visit was so much fun that I worried this vacation might not live up to all the fun I managed to find myself in last year. Thankfully, I realized on my very first night in town that I had nothing to worry about. In addition to taking in a minor league baseball game, an Italian fest, fireworks, hiking, dining out, lots of therapeutic working out and lots of therapeutic eating and drinking, I was able to spend LOTS of time with my favorite person in the world - my nephew, Ethan.

Ethan is 9.5 years old, yet he's incredibly mature for his age. He can hold his own in any conversation with an adult, and may even come off as intimidating. He has no trouble telling it like it is and then informing you of his opinion on the matter. The kid is an expert at negotiation, and if you announce a plan, say the order in which you wish to run your various errands, for example, Ethan will be quick to challenge your logic and introduce a more efficient order to run such errands. And the thing is, he's usually right.

His looks, however, are in sharp contrast to his mature, 9-going-on-39 personality. You see, at nearly 10 years old, Ethan is still such an adorable little guy! His Mom, who can't even claim to be 5 feet tall, confessed to me through a whisper behind her hand that "Ethan is the smallest person in his class." Whether or not this bothers Ethan is unknown, but I can tell you that it makes his Aunt Steph very happy to be able to carry him around piggy back style with zero strain. Additionally, his baby face remains stubbornly intact, which makes it hard to refrain from squeezing his cheeks and smothering him with kisses, not unlike the cliched image seen on TV of an old auntie aggressively squeezing and kissing the cheeks of non-enthusiastic nephews. He also has a scratchy voice and a lisp that only compliments his irresistible cuteness. When I used the phrase "sense of humor" during a conversation with my brother, for example, Ethan butted in, mockingly, with, "Who theth thenth of humor?!" Giggles.

We shared many quality moments and highlights during the week, including creating secret handshakes, making up a dance routine that my parents and brother were enlisted to judge, Ethan taking responsibility for charging my phone each night (I have no idea what possessed him to adopt responsibility for my phone's battery life, but I appreciated the gesture, nonetheless), Ethan providing a tutorial about how to utilize the various features of said phone, and playing Words with Friends while sitting right next to each other.

Here are some other amusing highlights:

The Bachelor's Bachelorette
I discovered only hours into my vacation that Ethan and I share an affinity for watching The Bachelorette. We engaged in such an intense conversation about Ms. Ashley Bachelorette's suitors at dinner that the rest of the family seemed to disappear from the table. Ethan casually threw around words like "feelings" and "communication," which simultaneously humored me and terrified me. He is only 9, right? When I suggested we watch The Bachelorette together that following Monday, he replied with, "Yes! We can flip back and forth between The Bachelorette and WWE Smackdown!" Ah. And there it was. Confirmation that he is still very much a boy's boy.

Lazy River Revelations - The Sequel
If you remember this post from last year http://bigcitysmallpotatoes.blogspot.com/2010_07_01_archive.html, then you know that Ethan and I had some pretty remarkable adventures at the water park. Like last year's trip to Ohio, I was able to spend the day at the local water park with Ethan during my visit this year. Except unlike last year, we were lucky enough to go twice in one week! And also unlike last year, I didn't have to beg Ethan to share a  double-person tube with me in the lazy river! Since floating semi-aimlessly seems to inspire deep conversation between us, I curiously asked Ethan if he's already thought about which college he'd like to go one day. He replied without hesitation, "Duke. Or Yale." Impressed, I then asked him what career he'd like to have as an adult. While I personally would pin him to become a litigation attorney, his reply wasn't unusual for a 4th grader, as he informed me he'd be happy with either being a professional baseball, basketball or soccer player. I then challenged him to come up with a career he'd like to have if he couldn't play sports professionally. This "hypothetical situation" question seemed to surprise him and he sternly informed me that he didn't want to do anything else besides play sports professionally. I pleaded with him to come up with something, to which he finally replied (in a very sarcastic and slightly irritated tone), "I don't know, work at Walmart?!"

Run Like the Wind... at a Moderate Pace and with Breaks
One morning I announced that I was going running in the neighborhood. Ethan offered to run with me, which made me excited beyond belief. My Mom, Dad and brother share little to zero of my interests (often making me feel like the black sheep of the family), so when Ethan made his offering, I was quick to encourage him to lace up his sneaks. For a short while, Ethan kept up with his Aunt Steph! I modified my pace, but not too much. He was chatting the whole time, which made me worry he'd soon run out of gas. And run out of gas, he did. We paused for breaks, he with his hands on his knees huffing and puffing, me annoyingly running in place. I told him we only had to run for just ten more minutes before he could say that he accomplished running three miles, and the determination in his eyes told me he was hell bent on hitting that three mile mark. During our final break, while I was running in place, he calmly but sternly told me to "Stop. Just stop. Will you please just stop running for a second?" I complied, assuming he was totally annoyed by my perky, perpetual energy, but it turned out he just needed me to be still so he could wipe his sweat-soaked face all over my shirt. Lovely. After we finished those three miles, Ethan sent a text message to everyone he knew notifying them of his accomplishment. He was so proud! And now I finally had a running buddy for my visits to Ohio! I fantasized about how we'd soon engage in casual conversations that included terms like pace, 5k, miles, race, shin splints, etc. Alas, my hopefulness was short lived, as Ethan woke up incredibly sore the next day. After slowly making his way down the stairs, Ethan found me in the kitchen and greeted me with the words, "Never. Again."

Not so Smoothie
I needed to run some errands one morning, and Ethan came along for the ride, er, walk. I wanted to go to McDonald's to get a coffee, but I had to promise Ethan a smoothie to avoid catching hell for putting a glitch in our firmly established schedule. On the way there, he mentioned that his stomach was cramping because he was hungry. Well, lunch time was approaching, after all, so I said he could also get a "snack" with his smoothie. When we got up to the counter, I ordered my $0.99 coffee and his smoothie. When I asked Ethan to tell the cashier what snack he wanted to order, he said, "I'll take the number 4 meal." And at that, my $0.99 trip to McDonald's skyrocketed to $8.00. Lesson learned? Having kids, even if they are not your own, is expensive!

Sweat the Sweet Stuff
One morning while Ethan was still sleeping, I was rooting around a drawer in the bedroom. Ethan slowly began to stir, to which I offered a soft, "Good morning, pumpkin." He rubbed his eyes and groggily returned my greeting. He then stretched his arms out and requested me to "come here." I obliged, and that is when he gave me one of his trademark I'm-never-ever-going-to-let-you-go hugs. During this sweet gesture he softly said, "I'm glad you're here." My heart subsequently melted into a pool of unconditional love.

And so there it was - a quintessential, perspective-altering, ah-ha moment in life reminding me that money, possessions, bum teeth, etc. hold absolutely no merit in the grand scheme of life experiences. It's the sweet and special moments with my nephew (as well as the meaningful moments and gestures from additional family and friends) that I'll remember twenty years from now - not how much money I have in the bank today, or whatever needless items or entertainment I choose to spend my dollars on this week. 

2011 may not be going the way that I had hoped or planned, but I take comfort in knowing that I can always count on time with the people that matter most to me to reflect upon what is positively perfect about life.

Ghosts of Boyfriends Past

Although I've been on approximately 9,552,000 dates and have had approximately 3,723,000 flings in my lifetime, I’ve only been in two relationships that have lasted longer than four months. The problem (besides the severely skewed ratio of dates to actual boyfriends) is that the ex-boyfriends from the aforementioned two relationships continue to haunt me to this day. My mind regularly scrutinizes what went wrong and what went right in those long deceased unions. Not just that, but I’m also guilty of staying in touch with these guys far too long after the last tear has been shed. While I’m thankful for the lessons I learned from each relationship, why do I have so much trouble ultimately letting go?

I’m currently reading Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert. There is a section in her book about being haunted by exes. I found myself relating to this subject even though I've never been married (obvi). Her words reassure me that I’m not the only one who has dealt with this issue. Turns out, a gazillion divorcees deal with this same dilemma. For example, in one passage she writes:

“Part of what makes divorce so dreadful is the emotional ambivalence. It can be difficult, if not impossible, for many divorced people to ever rest in a state of pure grief, pure anger, or pure relief when it comes to feelings of one’s ex-spouse. Instead, the emotions often remain mixed up together in an uncomfortably raw stew of contradictions for many years. This is how we end up missing our ex-husband at the same time of resenting him. This is how we end up worrying about our ex-wife even as we feel absolute murderous rage toward her. It’s confusing beyond measure."

Additionally, I realize that part of the reason I have trouble letting go is my empathetic nature. I'll argue to the death that I'm a strong-willed person, but sometimes my compassion for people -deserving and undeserving- can really get the best of my emotions. In the case of boyfriends past, it's like I just want to be reassured that the person I once loved and still care about is going to be "OK," and the only way I can make sure this happens is to stay in touch. Gilbert's book, along with countless articles I've been reading, have been helping me through this though, and I'm slowly learning to accept that I'm not responsible for an ex-boyfriend's emotional well being. In fact, staying in touch does more harm than good to each individual because it severely stalls the "moving on" process.

As I write this I 'm reminded of the movie Wendy and Lucy. Michelle Williams plays a poor girl, Wendy, perpetually struggling to feed herself and her dog, Lucy. Lucy eventually gets lost during a cross country move, and when Wendy finally finds her, she discovers that Lucy has been taken in by a caring owner with a house and a big back yard. Lucy gets excited when she notices Wendy, but Wendy ultimately decides that the dog is in better hands and decides to leave her beloved companion in the big back yard, despite the dog's heart-wrenching whines. My point here is that Wendy chose the most difficult option because she loved the dog, and she knew that neither one of them benefited from being together. 

As difficult as it may be, it's time that I, too, leave the dog in the big back yard.

Finally, everyone always says that the scariest thing about falling in love is letting yourself become vulnerable enough to experience true intimacy. But to me, the scariest thing about love is having to let go of someone and bury that once treasured intimacy, ultimately letting it rest in peace.

Nice Day for a... Royal Wedding

I've been an admitted anti-bride for the majority of my adult life, so you can imagine my surprise when the marriage between the Duke of Cambridge and the Duchess of Cambridge today conjured up an emotional turmoil within me. Other than marriages of close friends and family members, weddings generally make me cringe. Such an unnecessary spectacle, I normally think. So what is it about the Kate and P-Wills nuptials that cracked my cynical facade? Well, I have an idea...

When I was a little girl, I was obsessed with all things girlie, sparkly, sequin-y and princess-y. And when I was flower girl in an aunt's wedding, I discovered that weddings were beautiful fairy tales that came to life. In fact, ever since I saw Princess Diana walk down the aisle trailed by a seemingly infinite cascade of satin and taffeta, I declared that my life's purpose was to have a televised wedding where I would show off a train longer than Lady Di's, and sleeves even puffier than hers. I became so obsessed with weddings that I would spend hours drawing dresses on any blank piece of paper I could find. I would plan extravagant weddings for my Barbie dolls. When most kids were spending their allowance money on toys or candy, I was spending mine on bridal magazines. A family friend even sewed a wedding dress that would fit my elementary-sized body, which I wore until I wore it out.

I wasn't just obsessed with weddings, though. I was obsessed with the idea of love. Finding that amazing one person to spend my life with was just as important to me as my ideas of grandeur regarding weddings. I wanted to marry the original karate kid, Ralph Macchio, and I was certain that one day I would.

Additionally, my mother let me watch soap operas at an age that was probably much too young to be doing so, but I was hooked on them and believed all of the love stories (i.e. Luke & Laura, Bo & Hope) is what I had to look forward to as an adult. Love and marriage was the most important aspect of life to me, and I didn't believe (because I couldn't fathom) that an adulthood without them even existed.

However, my ideas of all things lovey-dovey and pretty princess faded as I became an adult, of course. With maturity and experience under my belt, reality sets in and I eventually learned that there are no guarantees in life, including finding love and getting married. But most poignantly, I learned what it meant to have a broken heart, and I was forever changed. Difficulty letting my guard down and exposing my vulnerability, for example, has been the biggest challenge for me with relationships since my first devastating heart break. Just as I feel that love is the best feeling in the world, I believe a broken heart is the worst. Who it was, how he did it or why he did it no longer matters, but just knowing how it feels to have a broken heart has caused me to construct a thick barrier around myself and keep one foot out the door of every relationship ever since. I've been so afraid of risking the possibility of feeling "hurt" again that I've nearly completely forgotten about the "joy" of love.

Despite being so discouraged for so long, I don't regret having experienced a broken heart or my failed relationships. I honestly think that each one was a valuable learning experience and I believe I have been somewhat shaped by each one. Yes, the one thing I looked forward to as a child about becoming an adult has perpetually disappointed me, and for too long I let myself get too caught up on what went wrong in my relationships rather than thinking about what needs to go right in future relationships, but I feel I've worked hard on changing my tune within the last year or so. And I know at times I seem to have more questions than answers about love and relationships, but today I feel (at least, I hope) that I finally have the right tools to allow myself to be vulnerable again and the strength to handle the risks of falling in love.

I guess today's royal wedding affected me so much because it reminded me of Princess Diana and the feelings I used to harbor when I was a little girl. Being reminded of those feelings made me sad that that little girl - a dreamer, a lover of love and convinced the world was full of only good things to give - is no longer within me. Or is she? Perhaps she has just been stored in the attic of my brain for too much time. But  because of today's royal wedding, I've been provoked to visit that attic and dust off those old feelings of hope.

I know that life could never be a fairy tale, but I consider re-discovering my capacity to love and abandoning my fears of a broken heart a dream come true.

My Inner Edna Pontellier

Being single for as long as I have has really given me time to think, analyze, compare and contrast the dynamics of being single and being coupled. It's strange, but on one hand I'm antsy, lonely, frustrated and fruitlessly attracted to more types of people than ever. But on the other hand, I'm growing ever more comfortable with my single status and even find myself asking, "Why do I feel the need to be on a constant quest for a significant other when I am perfectly happy alone?"

Society really puts the pressure on us single folks to get paired up. Without referring to any real statistics, I'm going to guess that most people my age are married or in a serious relationship, and majority has the most influence on the amount of pressure singletons endure. But what are the reasons for all the pressure? Do single people make coupled people uncomfortable? Is that why there is so much pressure within our culture to find a damn man already? I feel so sorry for celebs like Jennifer Aniston and Renee Zellweger. NOT because they are perpetually single, but because their single status is constantly scrutinized. And I bet the scrutiny drives them insane because they aren't even unhappy. It drives ME insane! Even with volumes of progress made from the feminist movement, our culture continues to make us feel like our lives are insufficient and incomplete unless we are in a relationship.

That said, I do consider myself open to finding love and would love more than anything to find that perfect match, but I just don't think that I should be made to feel bad about myself because I'm single and enjoy it. Could I really be happier, though? I mean, I have been in love before. And while I do think it's the greatest feeling in the world, I've still managed to survive and become a better, happier person even though that relationship ended. In fact, is being so independent and happy on my own preventing me from sustaining a successful relationship as well as the reason I've been single for the majority of my adult life? Or, could it be that even though I'm fully capable of falling in love, it's the tools for maintaining the working parts of a relationship that I lack?

 Instead of moping around and analyzing the reasons as to why I'm not paired up, maybe I should just relax and let nature, fate, destiny or whatever take it's course. But if I just relax and let things happen, then I'm perceived as having "given up." Just as well, being assertive, finding dates and analyzing what is going right and wrong can be perceived as being "desperate." The world of dating is a damned double-edged sword, and all this analyzing is so overwhelming that it makes me want to give up.

Additionally (and not necessarily related to the aforementioned), an observation I've made during my single stretch is that it's quite easy to find someone to lust after, and it's also quite easy to find someone who has all of the capabilities and characteristics of building a fully functional partnership. The trick is finding both crucial aspects within the same person. According to all the books, magazines and conversations with friends and family, this alleged human being is supposed to exist, yet that person is as elusive as Bigfoot to me.

The protagonist, Edna Pontellier, from my favorite book The Awakening by Kate Chopin experienced this very dilemma. For example, Edna had lukewarm feelings for her less-than-dynamic husband, yet he was nice enough and obligingly fulfilled his husband-ly duties. The young lad who induced Edna's "awakening," however, made her feel beautiful and sensual and provoked a renewed spirit within her. That young lad was quite flaky, though, and he ended up disappointing poor Edna.

I consider this book my favorite because it taught me that marriage and family are options - not obligations (a taboo sentiment during the Victorian times when this novel takes place) but I never thought that when I read it ten years ago that my life would virtually parallel Edna's. Edna found a solution to her dilemma, though. And while her solution was far from desirable, she told society to "suck it" in her own darkly beautiful and poetic way. I don't think society is worth meeting the same unfortunate demise as Edna, but I would very much like to do her justice and find exactly what she wanted, but never found.

2011 Goals: 1st Quarter Recap

At the beginning of 2011, I set some big goals to be completed within 365 days. And now that we've officially completed the first quarter of the year, here are some updates on my progress:

Goal #1 - Find a New Job
So I haven't found a new job yet this year, but I haven't been looking either. Instead, I've more or less been working on making peace with my current occupation. You see, I've noticed that having a better attitude and focusing on all the perks that come along with my job has made my 40 hours a week spent in Cube-ville much more tolerable.

Speaking of cubes, mine isn't too shabby. I'm on the 30th floor and I sit next to a floor-to-ceiling window that allows me one of the best views in Chicago. So many people I know don't even have windows in their office. One of the reasons I moved to Chicago in the first place was to be in the thick of tall buildings and magnificent architecture. My view from my desk reminds me every day that I made my dream come true.

Another example of how I'm coming to terms with my job is appreciating the amount of vacation days I have earned over the past 7.5 years. The most important thing to me about work is my time away from it, and my job allows me plenty of time to spend with family & friends and to indulge my interests. Also, no one bats an eye if I show up a little late a few times a week or if I spend an hour and a half at the gym during my lunch break. Moreover, the flexibility I have does not go unappreciated.

I've also realized that annoyances are a part of any job. Well, annoyances are part of any life experience, really. I can't naively believe that another workplace wouldn't contain its own set of irritants. Unfortunately, there is no work place utopia, so it's advantageous just to make the best out of the situation you're in. I may not be actively looking for a new job, but I am keeping an open mind should something new, different and exciting come my way. For now, though, I'm grateful for my employment, my health insurance, my gym membership, etc...

As a final note, I've always beat myself up about how I didn't go to school for something art-related. But how do I know that I wouldn't have ended up in this exact same job if I had gone to art school - or if I had majored in any other major? There are no guarantees in life, and somehow you accidentally, inadvertently, randomly end up exactly where you are. And perhaps that place is exactly where you belong for right now.

Goal #2 - Find a Boyfriend
Ummm, to say that my progress has been minimal in the love department so far this year would be an understatement. While I have managed to get myself out on one date, that date was less than remarkable. At least I got my feet wet again after going date-less for so long, eh? Anyway, I met Mr. Date through eHarmony (I reluctantly subscribed back in February as simply just another way of "putting myself out there"). He seemed nearly too good to be true on paper, so I was anxious to see if there were any sparks in person.

We had a lot of fun and laughed a lot on our date, but I didn't feel any chemistry. He also had a couple strikes against him from the start too:

1.) He doesn't drink, and I don't trust people who don't drink. I like to drink and I don't think it is too presumptuous to view that type of conflict as having the potential for major relationship roadblocks.

2.) He is a little guy! I like to think I have an open mind and that I'd certainly date someone shorter than me, but I felt like this dude's bodyguard. Especially because I walked him to his car before catching a cab when the date was over. He even thanked me for making sure he got to his car safely. I'm a fairly small person, but this dude made me feel like a "whole lotta woman," and when it was all said and done, I just didn't think he'd be able to handle this big lady.

Keep in mind, however, I wasn't exactly perfect on this date either. After evaluating how it went, I decided that I talk too much. Even after I knew things wouldn't go anywhere with us, I continued to attempt to impress him by blabbing on and on and on. Next time I'll know to reign in it and create a little mystery. ...That is, IF there is a next time. Wah wah!

Goal #2 - Plan a Trip to Italy
So the last time I wrote about Italy, I was still in the "gathering information" process. Well, I have gathered tons of info, so much so that I'm dealing with information overload, which promptly brings me to the "sorting through the information" process.

In addition, I have pretty much nailed down dates of my trip. I just have to make sure that flight prices, train schedules and hotel availability are all in agreement. I have plenty of time before I take my trip to hammer out details, and I'm as giddy about it as ever!

Eat, Pray, Eat Some More...

It's no secret that I was quite devastated when I learned that I didn't get accepted into the competitive teaching graduate program I applied to last fall. I had put so much time and effort into something that had only a 9% chance of working out, yet, the rejection blind-sided me. But as I mentioned before in previous posts, the process itself taught me so much about myself that I have zero regrets. For example, I learned how much I am willing to sacrifice for something that means a lot to me. I learned how hard I'm capable of working toward a goal. And most importantly, I learned to appreciate the process of reaching a goal so much that I now perceive the outcome -good or bad- as simply part of the process. I also truly believe everything I learned will lead me to bigger and better things in life, regardless of whether or not those things have anything to do with a career change. And, in hindsight, I feel that the rejection from the teaching program was actually a blessing.

Having said all that, I've been inspired to take on a new challenge. Although I set only two goals for 2011, it was never set in stone that I'd limit myself to just two, so I'm throwing in a third. This new challenge warms my heart just to think about it. Unlike the risk of applying to the teaching program despite the huge possibility of rejection, this new major challenge will -with certainty- come to fruition, as I'm the sole person in charge of making it happen. No one can tell me "no" as I pursue this challenge. In other words, not a single person can get in the way of my biggest dream.

What the hell am I talking about, you ask? I'm going to take a solo trip to Italy next fall. In the same way that another woman's womb calls her to bear children, my heart longs to see the world, instead. I've imagined myself traveling the world -especially Europe- for so long that I can't even recall my earliest memories of learning that other parts of the world exist, and then deciding I want to see them. And while I have been to some amazing places, the lack of time and adequate finances have kept me from experiencing all that I would have liked to by now. There is nothing stopping me now, though!

After telling my friend, Megan, about my idea for this trip, she was incredibly encouraging. She took a solo trip to Australia and New Zealand two years ago and claimed that it changed her, which, I'm finding, is not an uncommon sentiment. In fact, I'm discovering that there are so many books, movies and websites dedicated to the solo female traveler. Additionally, Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Eat, Pray, Love and the subsequent movie with the same title aren't huge successes because she wasn't dramatically affected by her travel experiences. Therefore, I want to be changed. I want to grow! And I cannot think of a better way to do so than by traveling solo.

So, why Italy? Of all the countries and cities in Europe I'm desperate to see, Italy has always been at the top of my list. But, why? Well, this girl likes to eat. And drink. And Italian food happens to be my favorite. The decision was a no-brainer, really. When first thoughts of this trip began ruminating, I thought I might start in Rome and then travel to Paris and England, but because there are so many cities I want to see in Italy, I'm planning to visit only Italy and seeing 3 to 4 cities while I'm there. Tentatively, I'd like to see Rome, Naples, Florence and Venice. I'm only currently in the "gathering information" part of the process, but the more I learn, the more excited and happy this independent spirit becomes.

I'm looking at seven months ahead of me until the trip - a time frame that would make most people quite antsy. But as for me, I am looking forward to relishing the whole planning process. And as I've learned from prior experiences, the process is as exciting and important as the outcome, after all.

B!tch Slapped

Holy effing crap. After desperately wondering why I am having so much trouble finding a date and wondering why I have so much trouble with my relationships, I finally got my answer in the form of a proverbial slap in the face via my future self. Well, sort of...

 Someone - a DUDE! - posted the following article on Facebook yesterday, and it shook me to my core. Guilty! GUILTY as charged! Click on the article to see what I mean:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tracy-mcmillan/why-youre-not-married_b_822088.html

I've been guilty of each and every one of the 6 reasons listed in this article at some point in my life. My last relationship was sooooo all about #'s 2 and 4. And I can closely relate to #'s 1, 5 and 6 rightthisveryminute.

For example, regarding #1, I didn't think I was "angry" until I read this article. I need to admit that I am, in fact, angry. For many reasons. I'm angry because I'm so miserable with my job and I don't know how to change my situation. I'm angry that I didn't choose a different career path in life. I'm angry that I didn't have more guidance as a young adult. Blah, blah, blah. Wah, wah, wah. No guy wants to be with someone who is cranky and miserable for over 40 hours per week. I wouldn't.

Additionally, regarding #5, I was really, truly, actually thinking about my thighs seconds prior to reading this article. And I was dwelling about how maybe I should become a personal trainer at the gym, and how it would be a lot easier to get certified and take the pay cut if only I were married. ........Really?! Who am I?! My brain is totally programmed to think only about myself at all times and I can't even imagine what it's like not to do so. I, I, I. Me, me, me. Enough, already!

Which brings me to #6. I've been having this recurring dream lately that I'm walking in a crowd or hanging out with my friends and I'm so much shorter than everyone else. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the deeper meaning of this dream. Ever since the dark ages of middle school, I've felt that I don't measure up. It's as if the awkward and confused 13 year old girl inside me never fully recovered from getting teased in 7th grade. Instead, her lack of confidence remains a roadblock to my success and makes me feel like I don't deserve love. It's actually pretty ironic that I'm currently a mentor responsible for building the confidence and self-esteem of a 12 year old girl when I'm such a fraud! However, if I can somehow help her build a solid foundation of self worth that will successfully propel her through middle school and beyond, then I'll agree to finally consider myself successful.

Also, contrary to the article, which assures me that "I'm enough right this minute," I've always felt that I needed to have all of my personal problems solved in order to feel worthy of finding love. I suppose that's impossible, though, right? I think I need to tape that affirmation to my bathroom mirror.

I should already know this, though. At 32, why don't I already know this? My friends know this. In fact, my best girlfriends in Chicago are the most confident women I know. I admire their confidence so much and aspire to one day be as comfortable in my skin as they are in their own, even if it seems impossible at the moment.

Seeing this article really was as if my future self showed up in the present to stage an intervention by slapping me in the Facebook and yelling at me to snap out of it, a la Cher in Moonstruck. It's like she wants to save me before it's "too late" or something. Well, I asked for an eye-opener, and I got it. I have a lot to work on, but at least now I know where to begin.

Finally, every single person has flaws, and I'm not without a great deal of them. But, as long as we acknowledge that they exist, we can then begin to fix them and move forward. And if you aren't aware of what is preventing you from moving forward, don't fret. I'm sure your future self will eventually meet you in the present to slap yo ass into shape!

Welcome to the Lonely Hearts Club

Remember, I'm not only the Lonely Hearts Club president, but I'm also a client.

As I sit here at my computer with a glass of wine on the Saturday night before Valentine's Day feeling all Carrie Bradshaw-ish, I can't help but wonder: Am I ever going to freakin' date again???

It would be one thing if I were going on lots of dates and simply deciding that all those dudes are wrong for me, but it is quite another to not even be able to get a date!

As I am typing this, I'm reminded of a quote from Wayne's World where Wayne's ex-girlfriend gives him a gun rack for his birthday, and his response to receiving it is, "I don't even own a gun - let alone many guns - that would necessitate an entire rack." I'm thinking of it because I'm relating to the idea of someone handing me a little black book and me replying, "I don't even have a phone number - let alone many phone numbers - that would necessitate an entire black book."

Granted, I don't know who, in their right mind, would ever give a little black book as a gift, but hopefully you catch my drift.

Anyway, for most of my adult life, I have been single far more than I've been in a relationship, and that hasn't ever really bothered me. Being single certainly has it's perks! For example, eating cereal straight out of the box while watching crappy reality shows on TV with no judgement, creating disasters in the kitchen all in the name of experimentation, exchanging flirty glances with the handsome security guards at Target and taking far too much time to get ready for bed are all behaviors that make being single acceptable, and even kind of fun.

But what happens when it's no longer preferable to be single? In my 20's, getting a date was as simple as making eye contact with an attractive lad on the bus. In my 30's, however, something has changed.

Of course, I'm not naive enough to realize that the pool of dateable guys has certainly narrowed as I've been getting older, but I refuse to believe the pool has been completely depleted. Or, has it? I live in a city where I'm constantly surrounded by other people who are constantly out and about running errands, window shopping, commuting in groups, working out at the gym, etc. Yet, I don't seem to be approachable. And many times I feel too hesitant to approach someone because it really does seem that most guys around my age are already taken.

So, at 32 years old, have I missed the boat? Was it a huge mistake to reject the "good" guys of my past? Honestly, I don't think so. I really wasn't ready until recently to find someone with whom I could see spending the rest of my life. Well, perhaps I would have been ready before recently if I had only met the right person. But, who is that right person?

I've thought about it a lot, and I don't think I'm asking for too much. I've definitely learned what I don't want from all of the dating disasters of my past, and I've also formulated what I do want. In fact, here is a little list:

1. I need someone who can make me laugh. I genuinely believe that a little humor goes a long way.
2. I need someone who is on the same page as me, or is willing to compromise regarding what to eat for dinner, going out during a weekend, etc. I firmly believe that being on the same page is why I've maintained the friendships I've had for so long.
3. I need someone who is willing to share with me. I don't just mean his deepest thoughts and feelings, but I really need to know what the hell is going on in his life. I was with a person who intentionally withheld so much personal info that it ultimately destroyed us.
4. I need trust and honesty. Without those 2 crucial elements, a relationship, let alone a successful one, is impossible. Seems simple enough, but, unfortunately, I needed experience to drive this lesson home.
5. I need someone with character. I need someone to be nice to my friends, for instance. Even if he secretly doesn't like one of them, he needs to be respectful of my friendships, because they mean the world to me.
6. I need to be attracted to the person. I don't care if the rest of the world thinks he's a troll, I need to feel those tingles.
7. I need someone who is dependable. I don't mean someone who can carry out favors for me at every little request, but someone who does what he says he is going to do. I need someone who follows through with a commitment, in other words.
8. I need someone who is willing to get out of his comfort zone once and a while. I basically build my life around getting out of my comfort zone, no matter how insignificant it is to the big picture, so it would be nice to find someone who is also willing to do so and perhaps even willing to push me.
9. I need someone who is comfortable experiencing all of the emotions on the spectrum, but can also keep them rationally contained. I was once in a relationship with someone who had a tendency to be extremely negative and who had a temper, and that just didn't fly with me.
10. Finally, I don't think it is greedy for me to want someone who also knows how to "sweat the small stuff."

See, that isn't too much, right? Pretty standard, I think. And I truly feel as if I'm putting myself out there, so I don't know what I'm missing. Hopefully, something will click soon and I'll figure it out before the next Valentine's Day rolls around.