The Hunter and the Gatherer

During a boxing workshop at work recently, I was enjoying hitting the mitts of my co-worker when she started randomly asking me personal questions. I try to remain private and not to divulge too much of my personal life at work, but apparently her curiosity got the best of her, because as I was firing away punches, she was firing away questions. And the harder I punched, the harder her questions were to answer.

Who is Fabian?

*jab, cross, jab, cross*

First, he was my trainer, then my friend, then my boyfriend, then my friend again. Basically he's my bunny daddy.

*jab, cross, hook*

Did you live with him before?

*jab, cross, hook*

Yes, when I was a poor, newly minted personal trainer and just starting to build my business I lived with him for two years.

*jab, cross, hook, uppercut*

Why did you break up?

*jab, cross, hook, uppercut*

Well, we decided we both had different ideas for our future, so we broke up and remained friends. Best friends.

*jab, cross, jab, cross, jab, cross*

Don't you still want to get married one day?

*jab, cross, dip, jab, cross dip*

Well, it's not that important to me. I'm open to being in a relationship, but marriage is not a goal for me.

*jab, cross, dip, jab, cross dip*

What is important to Stephanie then?

I didn't throw any more punches at this point, because I felt as if I had been the victim of a TKO. Fuck. What is important to me? I could have easily said my work, my family, and my bunnies, but I could tell she was looking for a more meaty answer. Something less obvious.

I don't often have to explain myself to others, therefore I don't often spend a lot of time explaining myself to myself. I know what I don't want, and I have a fairly good idea of what I do want, and that's that.

But many of my big dreams aren't that different from the dreams of people who are married and have kids. For instance, I want to own my own business. I want to own my own home. I want to live closer to my family. I want to travel. I want to live a creative life.

I just don't really see a need for a husband now, or possibly ever. I've been fiercely independent my whole life. I'm 37 years old and for the entirety of my adult life, I have been the hunter AND the gatherer. I have provided for myself in every way possible and have no intention of giving that up. In a society that's constantly trying to make individuals feel less than for not conforming to social standards, I am proud of the fact that I don't have to rely on a man to help me run the show.

Of course I need people in my life. Just because I am independent and love being alone, doesn't mean I don't get lonely or crave love. I just don't want to be anyone else's responsibility. And I don't want to be responsible for anyone else. I love helping friends and loved ones, and I do need help too more often than not, but I don't need a legally binding contract forcing me into a life with someone for better or worse.

Don't get me wrong - I think marriage is more than beneficial for most people. I think the commitment of marriage is admirable and I know couples who go together so well that I've wondered how they ever survived without each other (my parents, for example).  I've also known people who have completely turned their lives around because they found a life partner that helped renew their purpose for life. I genuinely believe that marriage makes a lot of people happy. But for my independent spirit, I just don't see the point.

I am open to meeting someone I can be with for the long haul, though. I'm not actively looking for anyone right now, because I'm currently content with the single life, and ain't nobody got time for that anyway.

A few people have asked me if I thought my unconventional relationship with Fabian is preventing me from meeting someone, but I don't really think that's it. Dating just isn't a priority for me right now for so many other reasons. Even though I'm open to finding love, I do realize that I'm less likely to find it if I'm not actively seeking it. For now though, that's okay.

After a tough strength workout recently that made me feel like a total beast, I declared to a co-worker that had I lived in an era of early humans, I would indeed be a hunter AND a gatherer. And that is how I will choose to view my modern day perpetually single status.

Independence and The City

Why did I move to Chicago 13 years ago?

What was it about the big city that drew me in and pulled me away from the family I adore? 

I guess the architecture appealed to me. Tall buildings loaded with history have always fascinated me, and I simply wasn't getting my fill of dramatic architecture in Ohio. 

The ability to stroll aimlessly and live without a car appealed to me too. The diverse population, the unique neighborhoods, and the running path along the lake were also attractive attributes. 

In any case, I knew that in 2002 at 23 years old that I was not interested in getting married or having kids and "settling down." And people my age in Ohio at the time were beginning to head in that direction. But I was far too restless to settle. (I still am, truth be told.) But I knew that in Chicago I'd live among like-minded individuals who could relate to my desire for fun and adventure and success. 

But something else drove me here, too. Something more powerful than anything else, yet has always been difficult for me to admit. The idea of falling in love drove me here too. Sooooo cliche and way too Sex and The City, right?! The idea of meeting a smart, fun, and funny companion all but consumed when I arrived in the big city. While I've been lucky enough to have a few jabs at love during the 13 years I've called Chicago home, I've also experienced all-consuming heartbreak as a consequence. 

As much as the idea of love consumed me when I first moved here, I have never been comfortable with the idea of relinquishing my independence. I want to be given all of the love and I want to give all of my love, but I also want all of the freedom and space. That doesn't even make sense yet it sounds completely perfect to me. I don't want to get married, I don't want children, but I want to be completely loyal to someone and want them to be completely loyal to me.

I've been accused of not knowing what I want, and that has been a fair accusation since I never feel like I can explain myself in a way that anyone could understand. But I do know exactly what I want, and I have always known, even if I was too afraid to admit it to myself for most of my life. And since what I want doesn't fit into most molds or ideals of how a relationship should work, I've had a tremendously terrible time with the opposite sex. I get that my ideals are not everyone's cup of tea. But most people's ideals are not my cup of tea, either. Therein lies my life-long dilemma.

It took me many years and a lot of heartbreak to finally admit what I want and to accept that what I want isn't easy to find. In fact, what I want may be unique to me and may not even exist at all.

Additionally, after 13 years, I realize now that Chicago wasn't necessarily where I needed to be to fall in love. I know now that I could have fallen in love anywhere, even in good ol' Ohio. But it may be impossible to find someone who wants the same things as me no matter where I am in the world. This sort of breaks my heart, as I very much love to love.

At the same time that I consider a grim reality, I also choose to hold out hope. With so many different lifestyles being lived freely (if not without judgement) in this day and age, maybe it's not so impossible to find someone who loves to love and loves to be independent as much as I do.

What I Learned in 2014

At the beginning of last year, I declared in this  post that 2014 would be a rebuilding year. 365 days has officially come and gone, and I can say with confidence that I have successfully "rebuilt" myself into a person I'm proud to be and that I'm living a life that I'm proud of as well. Essentially, all it took was learning how to live as authentically as possible for me to be happy and feel successful with my life.

I find myself reflecting on the events of 2014 quite a bit. While no major milestones were reached, a tremendous amount of personal growth occurred, which only made me realize how much more I have to learn and how much more I want to do in this lifetime.

One big thing I learned in 2014 is how to really, truly, love someone by forgiving them of their flaws, and accepting that I can still be loved despite mine. I often wonder where I'd be in life had I never met my BFF. He has taught me so much, supported me so much, pushed me so much, and most of all, has loved me so much. Despite my stubborn and resistant nature, he has stood by my side through thick and thin and has taught me what it really means to love.

The relationship with my BFF strengthened immeasurably in 2014. Because of him (and in addition to some very powerful self help-ish books*), I finally realized how relationships are supposed to work. And I can no longer be the kind of person who participates in negative gossip or behavior, nor can I tolerate people who (inadvertently) make me feel judged, inferior, and are not supportive of my lifestyle and choices. Real, true friends express their honest opinions to your face, and are encouraging and supportive of you no matter what.

Another thing I learned in 2014 is that stuff is just stuff. In the big city, it's very easy to get caught up in the glamour and wish for all that sparkles and shines, because money and the "stuff" it affords is often flaunted and always easily visible. But while stuff is pretty to look at, stuff does not mean that the people who own it are necessarily happy. I guess this is pretty obvious, but I spent a lot of years comparing myself to others and dwelling on all the things I didn't have, so I need to repeat this lesson to myself more than I'm proud to admit.

But it brings me to my next point. I learned how to be at peace with myself despite whatever life situation I'm experiencing. 2014 taught me to really, truly, cherish the little things. The feeling after a workout and after a shower makes me so joyful. Folding laundry, cleaning, and preparing a meal all make me feel good because I'm taking care of my life and successfully managing the things I am able to control. Seeing a client progress before my eyes, cuddling with my bunny and BFF, and exploring the city with my BFF just to take pics made me so insanely happy and appreciative this year.

I learned that making memories with the people you love is far more important than making a lot of money. I make less than half the salary I was making at my job in Corporate America, but my job affords me the time and flexibility to be able to spend lots of time with the people who matter to me most. I was able to visit my family 5 times this year! I was also able to take my BFF and my fur baby along for 2 of those trips. To be able to have the people who mean the absolute most to me on this earth in one room together several times this year was definitely a major highlight.

Speaking of my fur baby, I learned that adopting and loving a fur baby makes me more present, more patient, more aware, and overwhelms me with love. I'm in love with a bunny and I don't care who knows it! She really is my baby and I am committed to giving her the best life possible. I was meant to meet her this year and my life has been increasingly blessed ever since I brought her home on that mild summer evening in early August.

Finally, I learned that the lessons one learns as an adult must be practiced. Constantly. Constantly practiced. The lessons learned as an adult are not as easy to recall as learning state capitals or times tables. Our minds are already super conditioned in our 30's, so it takes extra efforts to be able to change your mind about something, or be open to new ideas, or new ways of doing things.

For 2015 I made a list of 15 goals to work towards all year long, just as I had made 14 goals for 2014. I reached all but a few, but I learned that working towards goals (no matter how big, significant, or small) makes me feel more purposeful and well-rounded, and motivates me to want to do bigger and better things in life.

The lessons I want to put into practice for 2015 are to not to let money, or the lack thereof, control me and rule my life. For nearly my entire adult life I've let money govern my world. But there are so many times in life that you cannot control unexpected expenses, or bad months for personal training. I'm learning to have faith and to trust that I'll always have enough, because enough is all I need. But I have the tendency to easily fall off the tight rope of confidence and stress about money, and I want to stress less about money this year. I'm very responsible, and deep down I know I don't need to worry, so I guess I need to continue practicing trusting myself, trusting the universe, and knowing that money is only money, and my worth as a human being is not determined by how much money I have in the bank. I'll be okay no matter what, because I won't let myself not be okay.

Also for 2015, I want to learn how to and then practice relinquishing so much control over my life. I have a terrible habit of wanting every detail of my life to be controlled and managed, and I feel like this may be hurting me from progressing further in life. Basically, I need to get comfortable with taking chances by getting uncomfortable more often. I've taken some pretty big risks in my life, and the results been no easy adjustment, so I've become a little gun shy when it comes to change, even though the risks I've taken have been completely worthy of risk.

I don't think I've ever been more enlightened, felt more positive, or basked in more peace when starting a new year like I am this year. I'm excited to see what 2015 will bring, all the while enjoying each moment of each day as it happens. Stay present, my friends, and cheers to 2015!

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined." - Henry David Thoreau

*The aforementioned "self help-ish" books that contributed to my increased inner peace and brighter outlook on life are as follows:

The Voice of Knowledge by don Miguel Ruiz:  http://www.miguelruiz.com/store/books-card-decks/
The Four Agreements by don Miguel Ruiz:   http://www.miguelruiz.com/store/books-card-decks/
The Power of Now by Elkhart Tolle:  http://www.eckharttolle.com/books/now/

2014 - A "Rebuilding" Year

Regarding sports, whether professional or college, I often hear that teams find themselves going through a "rebuilding" season or two after several stellar seasons, and after the star players either retire or graduate. The first year is always expected to be tough when there are so many new players involved. Teams find themselves losing games despite relentless hard work during the "rebuilding" time period, but only until they can gain experience and learn to find a formula that works, ultimately leading the team to more wins than losses.

After going through some really stellar years in my life, and then deciding to make a total life change, I found myself starting all over again, not unlike a former championship sports team. I believe that the hardest part is now over though, and there has been a solid foundation built, which is providing the groundwork for many potential future championship years.

***

 Sometimes I forget that writing brings me peace. Writing is usually the solution to any problem I'm dealing with, and yet I've all but neglected my favorite outlet during the entire year of 2013.

Writing clears the junk in my head, and therefore creates room for happiness. But for the past year, I couldn't even make the effort to sit down and write. I felt very diluted and sort of dumbed-down and couldn't seem to get my head straight and organized enough to take the time to do what I need to do in order to foster my love of writing in 2013.

But my severe writer's block didn't just happen for no reason. My life completely changed in 2013, and I had a desperately difficult time adjusting to my altered existence, including finding the time and energy to sit down and churn out a blog post.

Now let's backtrack a little. You see, the story of my writing rise and eventual demise all started in 2011 when I decided there were two things missing from my life that I desperately wanted: a boyfriend and a career that I loved.

Looking back though, my life was really freakin' great in 2011. I had a steady job and made decent money to pretty much do as I pleased. I had no debt save for a manageable chunk of the pesky student loan variety. I had plenty of time and energy to volunteer, work out, and visit with friends & family. Had I not hated my job so much back then, or weren't so hung up on bemoaning my single status, I'd go so far as to say that my life was pretty damn near perfect. But, as human nature would have it, near perfect wasn't good enough, and I wanted more. I wanted two more things, specifically. BIG things. And although I knew they were BIG, I had no idea back then that actually acquiring a boyfriend and a new career would impact and change my life in ways I'd never have imagined, yet not entirely for the better...

Ok so fast forward to the beginning of 2013, approximately two years after I had stopped dreaming and started pursuing, and I finally had everything I've ever wanted. I should have been overjoyed, right? However, I found myself overwhelmed by the work and responsibility of having both a boyfriend and a demanding career, and was bummed out by the sacrifices it takes to be successful with each. I may have had what I wanted, but it didn't come without sacrificing things I didn't really want to sacrifice, which caused a fucking confusing mess in my head.  

Regarding my new career as a personal trainer, for instance, I had to re-learn how to be as poor as a newly minted and naive college grad as I faced the daunting task of building my business from scratch. And even though I consider myself successful with my career now, I learned early on that personal training is a career in which one can never truly be comfortable, and one can always face a "bad month" following a "good month." Not knowing how much money I'm going to bring in each month is terrifying, and I had some pretty shabby months that caused a lot of stress during 2013.

Additionally, sacrificing a lifestyle I was well-accustomed to prior to my career change was something I was not prepared for when I resigned from Cubeville, USA. I had to give up shopping for pleasure, vacation days, frequently dining out, having enough energy to go out on the weekends, and pretty much doing anything other than work on a week night. Those are the things I loved about my old life, but immediately had to relinquish when I became a personal trainer.

Navigating through the first year of my new career was a difficult road, but make no mistake, it was a road that was dotted with many notable rewards along the way. While I wouldn't change my choice to switch careers, I just wish I hadn't had to sacrifice what made me happy before I switched. 

With regards to entering into a serious relationship and living with a boyfriend for the first time in my life, I learned quickly after becoming a couple that an independent mind doesn't exactly help a relationship to thrive. There was a lot of tension caused by my lack of sharing thoughts and not communicating issues. Being in a relationship with someone and living with them is a million times more difficult than I ever thought it'd be, as I'm not the biggest fan of compromise... or sharing.

My mind was also usually preoccupied with my main man and how his every move affected my life. I realize this is ridiculous and know that kind of thought process deeply hindered my growth and development as a grown ass woman last year, but I didn't know how to make it stop. I was being taught lesson after lesson, but would never really learn anything because I continued to repeat the same harmful patterns of jealousy, despondence, and defensiveness. I created situations in my head regarding the whereabouts or actions of my significant other that were completely false, then I'd proceed to shut down and offer up a heaping portion of passive-aggressive behavior when questioned about my withdrawal or negative attitude.

I recognize that I have the tendency to be really immature in relationships due to my lack of experience with them. There. I admit it. In the past year, I've learned that I'm not always right. In fact, I'm mostly wrong. My feelings are real, but they aren't necessarily justified.

In fact, I spent a lot of time in 2013 feeling as though everyone except me already knows how to navigate through the A,B,C's of relationships as easily as reciting the alphabet. But here I am at 35 years old still learning that L comes before M, which comes before N, which comes before O, etc.

I often wondered (and still do, truth be told) if I'm simply not cut out to be in a relationship, after all. Or at the very least that I'm simply not cut out for marriage. Instead of feeling whole or complete when I'm with someone, I usually feel like an imitation version of myself. The generic equivalent. During the rare periods of time when I am in a relationship, I feel as though I am not able to make simple decisions on my own, and even feel paralyzed by them. I tend to lose the ability to think for myself, and that terrifies me.

I'm incredibly independent by nature, so perhaps nature is constantly reminding me that I need to remain that way so as not to cause a glitch in the Matrix? I'm having a hard time typing this, because who the hell feels like they are better off being alone rather than with the person they do, indeed, love? Like, really, truly, love! That's crazy, right?!

I may have learned a lot of unfavorable qualities about myself during my relationship throughout the past year, but I do feel as if I've grown since learning them, and I'm continuing to learn on a daily basis. I have the good fortune of being with someone who is nothing but honest. And that honesty, although extremely startling and painful at times, is exactly what I need in order to consistently improve myself.

But don't get me wrong, living with a significant other can also be THE FUNNEST!! Having someone around who always makes me laugh and always knows how to reassure me that everything is going to be okay when I have trouble seeing light at the end of the tunnel is something for which I'm eternally thankful. I have a lot of love to give, and nothing makes me happier than coming home after a long day and snuggling up to the one I truly love with all my heart.

I constantly crave peace, order, tranquility and creativity. But for most of 2013, I felt as if I didn't have those things in my life anymore. I recall fondly that I once did have those things. I used to feel smart even around people I considered smarter than me. But for the past year I've been so distracted and/or consumed with dealing with the changes in my life that I felt as though I had nothing to contribute and that my thoughts and opinions were completely nonsensical anyway. I spent a lot of time feeling as though I'm getting older and dumber, not older and wiser. 

But now it's 2014. A blank slate. And I plan to get my life back in order so that I'm happy, organized, motivated and successful in all areas of my life. So how do I plan to do this? Well, for starters, I've already set 14 goals for myself for 2014. As experience has taught me, setting goals - however big or small - really helps me stay organized and usually leads me to bigger and better things. So even if I haven't nailed down my next big life project, I find that setting smaller goals and accomplishing them usually leads me in the right direction. 

Above all, my main goal is to get back to being me. The "me" before the career change, and before the relationship. I miss the Stephanie who blogged regularly, took solo walks that lasted for hours, was organized in every aspect of  her life, spent lots of time with friends, cooked often, read often, watched independent and foreign films, frequently dined at new restaurants, and drank bubbly on the weekends. I miss that Stephanie. She was really freakin' happy. And while I never want to go back to work in an office just to make more money, I want to find a way to be happy with my career and not have to struggle so much financially.

Some sacrifices are required when making life changes, I realize this. But when all the good things before the big change are cancelled out to make room for the new stuff, it's time to question priorities and decide what is truly important in life. Therefore, it's time to "rebuild" my life and work towards reincorporating and holding on to all the good stuff that has and always will make my life so sweet.

Pattern Overload

My personal training text book defines the term "pattern overload" as: 1. Repetitive physical activity that moves through the same patterns of motion, placing the same stresses on the body over time. 2. Consistently repeating the same pattern of motion, which may place abnormal stresses on the body.

This term came to my mind recently as I was thinking about my love life. I have a very distinct pattern when it comes to dating, and although I'm well aware of it, I can't seem to break it. For instance, it's quite obvious to me that I tend to hopelessly chase guys who like me well enough, but who are emotionally unavailable, or who are just simply unable to commit to a relationship at the moment... or, with me. I let them keep me safely at arms length and never question how/why/what they are feeling, and I don't dare divulge my own feelings for fear of stirring the pot and screwing things up. I end up sticking around for too long hoping that something will click and change for the better, but it never does. I consistently lie to myself and think that something is there when it's not, and then I'm crushed any time the truth emerges.

After each crushing blow I'm left asking myself the same questions over and over again: What did I do wrong? What could I have done to make it work? What could I have done to make him like me more? Was I too guarded? Was I not assertive enough with my feelings?

Shit like this makes me feel like I'm eons away from being in the "right relationship." Will I ever get it right?

I haven't written about my dating life lately, but that doesn't mean it has been inactive. In fact, I was kinda, sorta, maybe, somewhat, vaguely involved with someone during the past 6 months or so. He's an exceptionally amazing and wonderful person whom I consider a friend, first and foremost, so during the points over the last 6 months when I didn't think we were anything more than friends, I was okay with that (mostly). But there were many times when I was led to believe it was maybe more, and that was all exciting and good - until the next round of mixed signals confused my already overly ruminating mind. But of course I never dared to ask, "What the hell is going on with us?" for fear of not hearing what I wanted to hear, even though I wasn't hearing anything I wanted to hear in the first place. Ignorance is bliss...er, at least it's momentarily satisfying.

When it comes to love and dating for me, hope outshines reality, and hope is what I normally choose to latch onto. I guess this is the caveat to being an optimistic person.

I may not have been getting exactly what I wanted from him, but it's my fault for expecting more than he could give, and it's my fault for lying to myself for so long when deep down I knew that he couldn't.

But because I've been single for so long, receiving the "good night" texts during the past six months were simply satisfying enough to pleasantly remind me that, at the end of the day, I'm not alone in this world.

According to my personal training textbook, a good flexibility/balance/strength program can correct the cumulative injury cycle caused by the pattern overload that places abnormal stresses on the body. And as my dating pattern overload is placing abnormal stresses on my heart, it's time I finally prescribe a flexibility/balance/strength program to correct it.

"Just cause you feel it, doesn't mean it's there." - lyric from There There by Radiohead

Grabbing the Bull by the Balls

I can't help but wonder how much further along I'd be in life had I adopted the philosophy to "grab the bull by the balls" sooner. My girlfriends and I were discussing this idea in a somewhat literal sense a couple weekends ago (hee hee), but I think it applies to getting what I want out of life too!

Anyway, I'm desperate to make a change, and I'm tired of using the excuse that "it's not the right time." But if not now, then when? I ain't gettin' any younger. But I am still young, and there hasn't been better time to overhaul my life than right now.

For years I've been standing on the sidelines watching others get what I want. Well, it's time to get what I want too, no matter what I have to do to get it, dammit.

I'm tired of hating my soul-sucking job. I'm even more tired of complaining about it. I'm tired of not having the time and money to travel. I'm tired of being disappointed by love. Basically, I'm tired of not living the life I had imagined.

Instead of being well-traveled, having a fulfilling job, a great boyfriend, and thoroughly living the exciting big-city life I had envisioned growing up, I feel as though my life has slowly plateaued since I risked moving from a small town to a big city a decade ago. A  decade ago. It's time to take a giant leap forward again, don't you think? I'm well overdue.

So what's holding me back? Moving to Chicago from Cuyahoga Falls was terrifying because I had no job, no place to live, barely any money, and I barely knew anyone. But when I reflect upon that time in my life, I don't think about the perpetual nausea I felt from being constantly worried that I wouldn't "make it." Instead, I remember how excited I was that I was experiencing great change and working toward making my dream come true. I may have been terribly naive, but I was also extremely open, ready, and willing to embrace any challenge I faced. Refusing the option to "give up" was the secret to my success. I desperately need to channel the risk-taker in myself again. I know she's in there. Somewhere.

I did attempt a risk by trying the whole career overhaul thing in the recent past, but I stupidly let that one failure knock me down without ever making an attempt to get back up, brush myself off, and move on to the next option. And I know I saved money for plans to travel to Italy last year, but was slapped with a $5k dentist bill instead. And the love thing? Well, unfortunately, that's not totally in my control, but I do tend to unnecessarily shut down following each disappointment.

However, I know that I need to change my attitude in order to change my life. For instance, nobody is telling me that I have to sit behind a desk crunching numbers all day, so why the f#$% am I doing it? Also, it's not like Italy is going anywhere, so why not take comfort in that fact? And instead of declaring Spinsterhood, why not choose instead to keep my heart open with the hope that I'll eventually find myself in a flurry of reciprocated feelings with someone?

Change is very scary, but I'm far more terrified of one day regretting the risks I didn't take. I've let failure and disappointment control my life for way too long.

Don't get me wrong, though, I have made a ton of progress in the last decade, and I'm still so in love with Chicago and the people I've met since moving here. I've discovered and fostered many passions while living here too, making me a better and more well-rounded person. I may loathe my job and the company I work for, but I have been promoted several times in the eight years I've been with them. In fact, doubling my salary since I started my job has allowed me to pay off credit cards and become very fiscally responsible. And although I haven't been to Europe yet, I am thankful for the amazing travel experiences I have had in the past decade. I'm also thankful for the lessons I've learned from each failed relationship, despite having to learn from the same mistakes several times.

I've learned so much and have grown tremendously since being that naive newcomer with big city dreams ten years ago, but it's time to take all that work I put into myself and convert it into action for reaching some new, beyond-my-wildest-dreams goals. I've built a very sturdy foundation, and it's time to build something wonderful upon it. I have the energy & motivation, but I just need a plan. Actually, by finally allowing myself to listen to my heart, I've happily discovered that I already have one.

And while I'm very lucky that I am strong enough to be able to find the good in every situation, I am more than ready to find the GREAT in me.

You Choo Choo Choose Me?

"And there's a picture of a train!"

Every Valentine's Day I can't help but think about the endearing reaction of little Ralphie Wiggum from The Simpsons when Lisa gives him this card for Valentine's Day. Granted, she gives it to him out of pity because there were no cards for him in his box, but the scene still makes my heart melt.

After reading a little too much into Lisa's card, Ralph then invites Lisa on a date to see Krusty the Clown Live. Because Lisa really wants to see the show, she plays along and agrees to go even though she doesn't like Ralph.

As Lisa has feared, the camera pans to them during the show and Ralph professes his love for her on TV. Embarrassed, Lisa finally loses her cool and shouts, "I don't like you. I never liked you. And the only reason I gave you that valentine is that nobody else would!"

Later, while watching a video of the show, Bart slows the tape down to show Lisa that "You can actually pinpoint the second when his heart rips in half."

Awww, poor Ralph! And while I've been on both sides of the rejection wall many times in my life, the first time I ever experienced heartbreak was in 3rd grade due to a Valentine's Day card gone awry.

I had had a crush on Jason since kindergarten. We were both left-handed, and on the first day of school, he taught me how to draw a star on the chalk board. You could say it was "love at first chalk drawing." Jason's birthday was also two days prior to mine, and when I found out that my mother and Jason's mother shared a hospital room in the maternity ward, I knew we were meant to be.

I continued to carry my obsession for my crush quietly through kindergarten, first, and second grades, but when third grade rolled around, I guess I thought that something finally needed to give. So, I did.

I was grocery shopping with my Mom one evening in February when we passed by the greeting card section in the store. The section was beaming with pink and red, an indication that Valentine's Day was just around the corner. I can't remember if it was my idea or my Mom's, but somehow it was determined that I needed to give Jason a "special" Valentine's Day card, while the rest of my classmates received chintzy 3x3 Barbie-themed valentines that came in sheets, and you had to separate the cards using the perforated lines.

After much browsing for the perfect card that would undoubtedly reveal my own pink & red feelings for Jason, I was confident with my final selection. In fact, I still remember the printed sentiment exactly. The cover read, "I'd give you my heart for Valentine's Day" - open the card - "but you've had it all along."

So on the night of February 13th, I busied myself with decorating my own receptacle for various cartoon-themed chintzy valentines to be received by me from my classmates. As was the tradition every year in elementary school, I cut a slot in an old shoe box and covered it with tin foil and various sizes of pink and red construction paper hearts. When I finished the box, I signed all of the Barbie cards to my classmates, as well as my card to Jason. I was prepared and excited for the greatest Valentine's Day of my life.

The next morning, I was feeling brave and I was armed with LOVE! What could go wrong?!

When it came time in school that day to distribute our cards, the sharply contrasted size of Jason's card compared to rest of the bunch did not go unnoticed by my classmates, and they didn't hesitate to annoyingly inquire. But I diligently ignored all questions and confidently headed up to the silver boxes lining the window sill when it was my turn. The distribution was going smoothly until I reached Jason's box, which was located roughly in the middle. I discovered right away that my giant card for him would not fit into the designated slot. I tried though. Oh boy did I try to stuff that puppy in there! But it just wouldn't fit. And a line was quickly forming behind me with my fellow students bumping into each other and stepping on each other's heels, confused as to the reason for the hold up. Frustrated, and no doubt with my cheeks totally bursting with crimson, I finally just opened the damn box top (ripping a construction paper heart or two in my haste), and jammed the card inside.

And after each remaining personalized card had been placed into its corresponding shiny shoe box, I casually made my way back to my seat. And now it was time to wait. Time to wait and stare with anticipation for Jason's reaction to my professed love.

Now, I've been thinking about it a lot, and for the life of me I just cannot remember what on earth I expected to happen when Jason opened my big ass valentine. But the reality of what resulted can be compared to the scene in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation when Clark drags the whole family out of the house and creates much fanfare in anticipation for viewing the Christmas lights he'd  been installing all day, only for his elaborate illumination efforts to fail. During this scene, you hear the orchestral music swell, and when the millions of tiny bulbs don't light up, the music immediately cuts off, save for symbols crashing off beat.

Even though I had accidentally torn one of Jason's construction paper hearts on his box, my giddy anticipation compared to Jason's face failing to light up after opening my card caused my heart to tear. His face was so expressionless while reading the card -the card I had so carefully and painstakingly selected- that you would've thought he'd been reading from the list of that week's spelling words.

If there had been video recorded of the third grade Valentine's Day party at Richardson Elementary that day, you could have slowed down the tape and actually pinpointed the second when my heart ripped in half.

I had been crushed by my crush!

The outcome may not have been what I had hoped for, but as I look back on that situation as an adult, I'm actually really proud of myself for having taken that risk. And sometimes, I wish I was still just as ballsy as that knobby kneed 3rd grader.

And although it has been a million years since my very own St. Valentine's Day massacre, I'm still somewhat weary about giving V-Day cards. Which is the reason why, even though I love arts and crafts, I chose to avoid a panic attack by respectfully declining a friend's invitation to a Valentine's Day card making party at Paper Source only a few weeks ago.

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!"

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.

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.

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!

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.