31 January 2008
That said, I am still extremely superstitious and look to the universe for signs, most often in my love life. I don't want to think about these as rules, as evidence of what has already been written for me. I prefer to think of them as sign posts-- you know "turn right to get to stress and despair," "cross bridge to find fulfillment." Sign posts telling me what I should do, and if I take the wrong path, my life will be forever altered (and not in the good way).
Lately I've been confronted with instances that seem too blatantly like potentially life-altering signs to ignore. You may recall the instance of the refrigerator that I ranted about last week. In short, my refrigerator died (and smelled up my entire apartment) and my rental agency delayed and delayed about getting the old monstrosity out and getting me a new odor-free kitchen appliance. So finally they call me and tell me that my new refrigerator is in my apartment, only...when I return home refrigerator is nowhere to be found. I soon discover that my rental agency has confused my apartment, 1A, with the one below mine, A, and they have unplugged my poor downstairs neighbor's refrigerator, taken all of his food out, carted the old one away, and given him my new refrigerator. Later that night he has to deal with warm smelly milk and a crew of maintenance people unplugging the new refrigerator, re-plugging his old refrigerator, and carting the new fridge out of his apartment and up the stairs to mine.
The next day I am cooking (food which had previously been refrigerated in my new refrigerator) and heaving dishes into the dishwasher, with lots and lots of dishsoap since what seemed like months worth of dishes had piled up ignored in my kitchen. I bring my food into the living room and am watching TV when I hear my doorbell ring...I peer through the peephole. "Hello?" I call. "Yeah, it's the Super, you have a leak?" "Ummm, no, I don't think so," I say. "Well your downstairs neighbor says water is leaking through his ceiling...can I come in and check?" So I let him in, look to my left, and proceed to freak out, because there are three feet of suds in my kitchen, rising by the moment. This was a movie-worthy amount of suds. So not only did I cause my downstairs neighbor some spoiled food and a replaced (but then not) refrigerator, I also flooded his apartment.
I should explain that I didn't know my downstairs neighbor. We've passed each other in the hall a few times, always smiled at each other. I've always thought he was attractive. I've always felt terrible because my delivery food is frequently delivered to him instead of me, so he has to be the one to direct deliverymen up the stairs and answer the door for no reason. But we never knew each other's names. That is, until tonight.
Tonight I managed to lock myself out of my apartment. I knocked on four doors on my floor, and nobody answered. And then I went downstairs, knocked on his door...and he answered. He lent me his phone so I could call my rental agency and then a locksmith, and he let me sit in his apartment with him for an hour until the locksmith arrived. We laughed about the delivery, refrigerator, and flooding disasters and wondered how we'd never actually met before. He showed himself to be not just physically attractive but also to be sensitive, artistic, kind, and intelligent, and I found myself being able to talk naturally to a new guy for the first time in a very long time. And also to feel...a spark?...that I also haven't felt for someone new in a while.
So what does all of it mean? This man lives with his girlfriend, so clearly it's not that we're supposed to be together. But at the same time, all signs seemed to be pointing toward us needing to meet...what is it all about? On a related note, I just watched Eli Stone. Watch it. It's brilliant, and you'll see how it relates.
24 January 2008
So, I'm not interested in dating right now...so how have I re-entered the realm of relationships? Well, with Cynthia. Cynthia is my new hyacinth plant. There is logic here-- see, I am a plant killer. Proven. I have killed plants I didn't even know could be killed. So if I'm terrified of killing the things I love...well why not start by loving the things I've killed? If I can start by making this plant thrive against all odds...well then, I think that's a step in the right direction. Plus, she's pretty.That said, she is very obviously starting to lean (you can see it in the photo above). The flowers are so heavy that they just keep falling to the side. I'm afraid that it's already going to die! I've been watering it, but I don't want to over-water...and I've been rotating the plant so that different sides are exposed to the light. Does anyone have any advice? Am I supposed to prop it up? How much water is enough, and how much is too much? PLEASE help me not to be a disaster! That said, COMMENTS PLEASE!
23 January 2008
The most interesting topic that we covered was friendship, specifically individual characteristics that we cherish in our friends. I never realized how different my friends are. How did this topic come about? Well, Megan is in the process of planning her sister's wedding and was discussing the process of selecting bridesmaids. So naturally, we started talking about who we would want as bridesmaids in our weddings (waaaaaaay off in the future), and the conversation evolved from there.
I was never one to have a single group of friends-- I was more about having 8 different groups of friends, since I am a mad mass of contradictions and need people who flatter all the different sides of me. I have those who share my quirky side-- for instance, my friend Sara came up with the idea to do a cake tour of New York when I first moved here. We each bought a slice and then rotated. It was glorious-- although the red velvet cake was disappointingly dry.But there are also the friends who will allow me to go on and on about the Jack the Ripper documentary I saw tonight...and those who come to the rescue with gatorade and saltines after a rough night...or those who stand and cheer while I metaphorically flush a heinous ex-boyfriend down the toilet...or those with whom words aren't necessary...or those who help me clean foul-smelling vileness out of my dead refrigerator...or those who can make a crazy night out a blast, even though I hate the bar scene...or those who know that the best thing they can say when I'm upset is "I'm here for you, unconditionally." And I strive to do all of the above in return.
22 January 2008
It's an unlikely way to follow these statements, and perhaps inappropriate, but I was planning on making a new love song mix today, and I'm going to continue with that plan. I call it "Love, But Never Typical." To me a love song is something that explores the processes of falling in and out of love, the highs and lows, not just the candy floss moments you hear on adult contemporary stations. I've been far from ordinary in my own love life. "I love you" has been difficult to say and those words have only been spoken to one person; there have been lots of tears; codependency issues abounded; but I've also experienced lots of laughter, intimacy, and growth in my romantic life over the years. Always a mix, but (at least recency) always with far more good than bad. And never, never typical.
1) My Back Pages by The Byrds
2) Fell in Love at 22 by Starflyer 59
3) Summer, Highland Falls by Billy Joel
4) Come Pick Me Up by Ryan Adams
5) C'mon C'mon by Sheryl Crow
6) Just Like Heaven by The Cure
7) Troubled Times by Fountains of Wayne
8) You and the Mona Lisa by Shawn Colvin
9) Goodbye Song by The Abandoned Pools
10) Always by Rilo Kiley
12) Don't Look Back in Anger by Oasis
13) Let My Love Open the Door by Pete Townshend
14) Chariots Rise by Lizzie West
15) On Your Porch by The Format
16) These Are Days by 10,000 Maniacs
17) Momentary Thing by Something Happens
18) Broken Hearted Me by Anne Murray (which may be the most depressing song ever)
19) In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel
20) Green Apples by Chantal Kreviazuk
21 January 2008
I can't say I'm completely happy in the moment I'm in, where I am, who I am. I have only been able to say that twice in my lifetime. I'm the type of girl who always wants more. I think that's why I always related to Belle from Beauty and the Beast-- she is not satisfied with her lot. And maybe that's why I have such a hankering to travel, to Norway and Ireland, Brazil and Romania, Switzerland and the south of France.
I read this article, "GPS for my Lost Identity" by Laura Dave, yesterday in the New York Times. It was in the Modern Love column, and I think that it perfectly expresses the feeling of losing yourself (in this case, both literally and figuratively) and the pains that it takes to find your way back again. Sometimes you just need to drive and seek something awe-inspiring. It's pretty remarkable. Or even something familiar and comforting. When I was back in St. Louis and started to feel claustrophobic, I would hop in my car and drive west, purposely taking the side streets instead of the highway. I would pass through suburbia and park in front of the polka dotted awning that distinguished Carolyn's, an old-fashioned cafe that nobody at my university knew about because it was outside of our "bubble." Somehow over the course of an afternoon with a good book, a piece of pie, and a polka-dot motif, any troubles or alienation seemed to fade into something that was, if not pleasant, at least manageable. So I guess that's why I take such pleasure in the simple things...because they take me away mentally, even if I can't afford to travel physically....
17 January 2008
I feel like my perfectionism is going to tear me apart. I just want to twirl in the rain with Paul Varjak...
First bad work day. A ransacked apartment. A lack of refrigerator, and having to throw out really expensive European butter and apple cider sorbet (don't worry, nobody broke into my apartment-- I was just once again reassured that you sometimes can't rely on people ). But worst of all, my personal guilt at just not being a paragon of perfection.
"You know what's wrong with you, Miss whoever-you-are? You're chicken. You've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, 'Okay. Life's a fact. People do fall in love. People do belong to each other.' Because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well Baby, you're already in that cage -- you built it yourself. And it's not bounded on the west by Tulip, Texas or on the east by Somaliland. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."
15 January 2008
14 January 2008
Now, as for the room for silhouettes...what do you think about this? Unfortunately I can't take credit for this photo...but I hope to recreate it someday (and then some-- not enough silhouettes for me!).
10 January 2008
My grandmother...wasn't she gorgeous?
lights through a rainy window...
06 January 2008
What is the point of this, you may ask? Well, the passage is fairly ambiguous in terms of whether Derick is a positive or negative character (although most critics interpret Derick as a fool), but I wrote my essay about the nobility of following your dreams, no matter how unreachable all logic tells you they may be. Now, being a bit more jaded and a lot better-read, I tend to agree with the critics about Derick and that the term "valiant chase" is meant sarcastically...but I can't help but wonder about the concept of dreaming the impossible dream. Is it foolish, noble, or...is it the only option for happiness?
I'm not really the type of person who has ever had a dream. Yeah, I'm a Pisces, we live in our own little dream-world, but as far as actual life dreams, I've always sided more on the side of logic. I used to want to be a Broadway performer. After looking at musical theatre programs at colleges, I decided that I was nowhere near good enough and that I didn't have the strength to deal with being a waitress and having no life stability as I climbed toward my goal. I never really developed any other impossible dreams. Sure, sometimes I say I wish I were a fairy, and I always seem to be questing after lost causes ("when they're really lost")...but that is nowhere near chasing the ungettable get.
When I was at Disney World with my family, I saw all of these little adorable girls dressed up as their favorite princesses.
To them, by putting on the dress they became princesses for a day! Whenever they saw Belle or Ariel or Mickey Mouse, they thought that they were seeing the real thing, and they believed that dreams can come true "when you wish upon a star." To them, magic is very real and enchantment is within their reach. When exactly do we stop believing that? Or furthermore, when exactly do we start telling children that they need to stop reaching for the stars and start living on solid ground? When does chasing Fin-Backs stop being noble and start being foolish?
I guess there is no real conclusion to be made here. But despite how jaded and earthly I may be, I still sometimes feel my toes stretching up off the ground. Despite everything, I still believe in so much and have so much hope, even though I tell myself to be logical and not get my hopes up. If I have to say I got a little foolish, so be it-- at least I wasn't afraid. Guess I'm just another one of the Dericks, my friend...