Monday, June 29, 2009

The Great Northeast Tour of Domesticated College Friends Part 2


Stop two: Massachusetts

I remove the Yankee banners from my car and E. gathered some leaves to cover the New York plates. We drove carefully with no sudden movements ... I didn't want to attract the attention of any natives. Fortunately, my car is red ... which serves as cammo in this particularly dangerous part of America's Northeast. I once saw a Red Sox fan eat a rabid grizzly bear alive simply because the animal drooled on a Sox cap.
Poor little cub.

We make our way into Framingham with little trouble - E. is an excellent navigator. She recognized Skipper's house (nickname for the boat, not the Barbie doll) from the road and directed us in.
Skipper and her beau bought the lovely suburban abode and are in the process of renovating it. They are also acting landlords, renting out the top two floors.
I find all of this very grown up and impressive. Especially since some of my fondest memories of Skipper include a lot of drinking and a teeny tiny mermaid costume ... which I think would go perfectly with the house's color scheme.

We get a grand tour and a fantastic meal (every time we stop, people feed us. Maybe that 's why I like road trips to damn much). Another set of good ol' college buds drove in from around Boston to see us as well. I-Guy and Shoe-Girl, who are yet another domsticated couple! (I actually officiated their wedding)

We all did some catching up, then broke out the Guitar Hero, of which Shoe-Girl really is. She's this sweet looking pretty blonde, but plays a mean fake guitar. I like it when people are surprising.

Things are going swimmingly (sans the seashell bra) until I sit in front of a David Ortiz life-sized stand up. I immediately punch him in the nuts.
This of course starts a barrage of baseball animosity with Skipper ... I fume and spew nonsensical remarks like "I'd hit all the Red Sox with my car if I weren't afraid they'd leave imprints of their ugly faces on my grill" – all the while smiling, cause I'd missed our ridiculous (on her side) arguments over the Sox and Yanks.
She was smiling too ... but she still hid the Ortiz stand up before going to bed. Which is really too bad, cause I had all kind of plans for that thing.

Finally after a long day of traveling, it's time for bed. I set my alarm for 5:30 (yeah - a.m.) and dream about taking a leak on the Big Green Monster.

The Great Northeast Tour of Domesticated College Friends Part 1


Leave it to me to turn a simple invite as a plus one into yet another road trip adventure. This one definitely had a theme - visit old college friends (who all happen to be of the domesticated persuasion - four couples in all!)

My best gal from college, E. needed some arm candy (and wheels) for another fellow alumn's wedding in Vermont. I'm a big fan of the couple getting married and of road trips, so this was a good fit. And I know E. was looking forward to three days and two nights of my superior jokes and excellent driving. Lucky chicky.

First stop — I headed south to Yonkers where E. could take a quick train up from NYC. Why Yonkers? Another fantastic o' college bud, "Emmy" just moved there with her hubby R. into one of those sweet apartments over looking the Hudson River. I'm calling her "Emmy" because she has one! While seeing this particular domesticated pair (who continue to demonstrate how married people can still be fun) is enough to make me smile, holding on to a real Emmy award ... that was something I thought I'd never do.

I might have showed up in an evening gown
... and made a wee speech when I picked the statue up.
... and maybe switched it out 'Indiana Jones' style for a bag of marbles ....
Friends should learn how to share.

We did some catching up, ate of course, took a walk then just as a giant boulder headed towards E. and I, we jumped in the car and headed north ... by way of north west.
We sped into Connecticut ... that dreaded wasteland where people go to become terrible drivers.
One hand on the wheel, the other flipping the bird ... cause that's how you signal in Connecticut, I narrowing made it through that land of nightmare traffic ... and into a whole other terrifying place.

Next stop — Massachusetts.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Biggest Person



After sharing an interesting story about a certain relationship that has soured my friend's response was one I get quite frequently.

She shook her head in disbelief and said, "You're a bigger person than me, I would have flipped out."

Ah, yes.
The bigger person.

I'm often labeled as such.
Not because I can do no wrong, but because I am quick to apologize if I feel I've done something inappropriate. Even if it is not something that would upset me, I can't help but say "I'm sorry you feel that way because of something I did" when other people are affected by my actions.

Being the bigger person includes accepting the faults of others and realizing we can't change the way they are.

In the end, she probably over reacted because she's a drama queen.
He probably said that because of his temper.
And maybe that person put their foot in their mouth due to ignorance, not malice.

Being the bigger person is about acknowledging how little we impact the personalities of others. There is nothing we can do or say to change their ways.

Sure, we can call them horrific names, point out their hypocrisy, or refuse to ever speak with them again... but in the end they are who they are.

And yet, I can't help but wonder where we can find balance in this sort of scenario.

A place where we can weigh in as the bigger person, while also defending ourselves.

Because it seems that the more times I am hurt, or wronged, or treated unjustly... the more I hear how "big" I am.

Regardless of how small I actually feel.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Unforgivable

I always thought there were certain things that were unforgivable in a relationship.

Certain words that could not be taken back, certain actions that would never be forgotten.

Because there had to be specific boundaries for what was right and what was wrong, boundaries that once ignored would change things forever.

But lately I've been wondering if there is anything that is unforgivable, should you decide the person is worth it.

It's not really about how sorry they are or how unlikely it is to occur again but instead on how accepting you are of their faults. Of how unbelievably fragile human beings can be.

The more I know about other people, the more I begin to understand what motivates them.

When their bad mood is founded in insecurity.
When their anger is just a mask for their fear.
And when they just don't know what to do with the plethora of emotions inside of them.

But in the back of my mind I keep coming back to the idea that a person's reasons may not excuse their actions.

And I can't help but wonder if those things I once deemed unforgivable no longer are...

Or if I'm simply too exhausted from trying to understand to do anything about it.





What's unforgivable for you?

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

5 things


... that amuse me

1. Adults who use "Facebook Friend Deletion" as a means of showing people they're upset with them.

2. Exes who change so immensely after your breakup you hardly recognize them.

3. People who admit to voting for George W. Bush... twice.

4. Those who feel the anonymity of the Internet gives them the clearance to wish death, suicide, and jail-sex upon complete strangers.

5. Women who think there are reasons "he cheated" beyond the idea that he's just "A JERK."




What amuses YOU?

Monday, June 15, 2009

Nobody likes a bully


Know what nobody likes?

A bully.

Some one who is so insecure, that in order to feel good about themselves they have to put others down. Like a lame elephant trying to stomp on a mouse that terrifies it, even though the elephant knows it's too big to be terrified by a mouse. So it feels stupid.

Stupid elephants.

When you work with a stupid elephant, it creates some serious added stress to your job. Especially if you're the kinda mouse that has a bit of a temper ... such that it equates to walking around with a virtual flame thrower attached to your little mouse tail that is triggered when stepped on.

The elephant may end up blistered, but the mouse is a rodent pancake. And no amount of maple syrup is gonna make that OK.

No one wins.
Unless you like roasted peanuts.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Perfect VS Passion


Most of us have been in at least one of those relationships where nothing is wrong... EVER. There aren't any arguments because you agree on practically everything and when you don't neither of you wants to upset the other so you keep your mouth shut and your lips pursed for your next scheduled smooch.

And then there those relationships, so full of "passion" that nearly every discussion turns into an almost-argument. When you love and hate one another with equal measure and the conflicts themselves are as steamy as the make up aftermath.

But I can't help but wonder where the perfect balance can be found.

It seems, that like most things in life, the passion factor in relationships is all or nothing.

And if that's the case...

How much conflict is too much?

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Family time


I didn't realize how much my family resembled a jackpot for squirrels until I started regularly having a boyfriend around.

At first everyone is quiet ... friendly ... masters of small talk even. But by the 5th time you integrate your love with your blood, things start to get messy. Family differences become open conversation and when the loony bickering finally breaks free from their temporary grips on sanity, you find yourself inching down in your chair smiling sheepishly at your mate hoping he's too hooked to bolt for the door.

God, I wish I cooked for him more.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Regrets


I like to say "I have no regrets" because it makes me sound like I've lived my life the way I've always wanted. That I've been brave and happy for much of it, that I've accepted loss with grace and integrity. I like to think that regrets are futile and the bad moments are as much a part of my personal history as the good.

But sometimes I regret.
Sometimes I wish I hadn't or had so much that my past feels like more of an open wound than a scar, still tender to memory's touch.

I regret saying yes and saying no. I regret not saying no. I regret saying I love you to him, and not saying I love you to some. I regret letting people close who proved themselves unworthy. I regret hurting him, breaking his heart, and nursing my wounds with someone new. I regret accepting people's faults more readily than they will accept mine. I regret the way I handled that, the people I told, the things I said to her, to him, to everyone. I regret keeping quiet when I wanted to cry out loud. I regret giving out my number and never picking up the phone. I regret picking up the phone every time he called. I regret the way I acted on her day because I was jealous and lonely. I regret ever feeling jealous. And lonely. I regret saying I'm sorry when I wasn't and not saying it when I was. I regret having anything to be sorry for. And I regret all the times I let him come back when I'd lost myself in his absence.

Sometimes the regret is masked in the present, dulling the pain of the past just enough to convince me that none of it matters anymore.

And then...
There are the times even future's promise can't anesthetize the ache.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Better to have loved?


I go see a lot of movies.

Something about sitting in a dark room and watching imaginary people's lives unfold speaks to the creepy voyeur in me.

Once in a while, I am more than entertained or even impressed ... but moved. And, rarely does that come from an animated feature. But Pixar's Up nearly (that was a nearly) brought tears to my eyes, and has stayed with me days after viewing it.

I won't give anything away, but the very beginning plays out the life of the main character, only truly starting the story after he is an old grumpy man. But before doing so, we get glimpses of his happy existence with his wife, the love of his life, and his utter devastation when hers ends.

I really almost cried. Just the thought of building an entire lifetime around someone — then losing them and trying to find a reason to go on is beyond my shallow, wise-cracking being. I composed myself, of course, since it would ruin my reputation to be seen misty-eyed during a Disney movie of all things, (even though the Pixar label elevates the feature astronomically). Then I look over at Toughguy, who I love with all my shallow, wise-cracking heart, and experienced a momentary terror.

What if we really make it in the long run, then I lose him? Even at this point, I can't imagine life without him. (Who would keep track of my car keys?)

Is it better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all?

I don't believe that you have to have a permanent partner to enjoy a full life of adventure and happiness, but maybe it makes it all that much more precious to have shared those experiences with one special person.

When my grandfather died, I remember watching my grandma and wondering how she'd handle living without the man she'd spent over 60 years with. I wondered, but never asked. She passed away a year ago, and I know for a fact she maintained an active social life with plenty of friends ... but did it still feel empty?
I'd like to think the pain of his loss was worth that over 60-year-long marriage. But I guess I'll never know for sure unless I go through it myself.
Terrifying.