There are some conversations, amongst friends, that will always come up. In the past few days I've come across this question while having conversations with proudly single, married and enamored friends: What do you look for in a relationship?
In my constant effort to alleviate attention, my answer will always be: who said I was looking? But the questions become more persistent and insistent, especially as I get older and the evidence builds that I am not in any kind of directional relationship. Even my mother has become more blatant in her inquiries. Her motive, grandchildren, is abundantly clear in how she coos over baby clothes and sighs about how she can't wait to have grandchildren (mind you, this is the woman who refused to ever have the birds and the bees talk with me or my brothers. When questioned, sex was equated to terminal diseases). But why does everyone else want to know? Isn't it different for everyone? Why do you need to know what I would like if you would like something different for yourself?
On the subject matter, I tend not to wish and want - It leads to expectations and expectations almost always lead to disappointments. All that I really do ask is for respect, kindness and acknowledgement. Yup, Im the perpetual "homegirl" who has love declared to her - behind closed doors. Evidence of any kind of romantic relationship on the other side is usually only admitted mistakenly, perhaps while drunk or in a severely lonely state, and sadly, usually after the mess has been made, cried through and abandoned.
The thing is, I don't really understand what kind of traits I am supposed to require before getting into a relationship. I used to think that 'Love' trumped all and you accepted what came with it as long as the feeling was mutual, but time and experience will always steer you in a more cautious direction. What I ask for is what I thought most would, and I don't consider myself materialistic so money has never been an issue that has contributed to my bitterness. But in all honesty, is there a level of lifestyle I should require before consideration. Need there be a veritable checklist of core requirements?
Does Love require prerequisites?
As a child, 'love' was painted for me as this portrait of constant flowing emotion between two people. I would think of busty goddesses swathed in flowing white robes and heroic muscle-bound men in leather (I had a Greek Myth phase as a child) falling in love at first sight. Universes colliding, stars shooting and all that jazz. Did these goddesses walk around with a laminated laundry list of requirements in their toga pockets?
- Must have a minimum of 100 gold pieces.
- Must have own chariot with at least one Unicorn of no more than 3 years of age.
- No Snake-haired Parent, sibling or associate of any kind.
- Must like dogs.
.......
I just can't see myself putting it down on paper that I'm looking for someone who makes X amount a year or who has acquired a certain amount of property by a certain age or who has read a list of 200 required books in their lifetime....or doesnt have 3 baby mommas.
...maybe that last one.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
To Judge Or Not To Judge
That is the question.
In my experience, people, in general, are judgmental. Not necessarily in the mean sort of way but in the automatic perception of things that are presented to them at face value. I was reading an article today on Huffington Post about engagement ring discrimination.
Yup. Engagement ring discrimination.
Now, we all know that the best thing about online articles is the comments section. The debate on this topic was actually less criticizing back and forth and more frank discussion on the ACTUAL effects of wearing your gifted bling when interviewing.
It was said on an online job board that women who are interviewing for new jobs should NOT wear an engagement ring as they will be discriminated against by those who feel that cut, carat and color are an indicator of what kind of money is already in your bank account or your fiance's bank account. The argument is that you are not to be taken seriously as YOU, soon to be Mrs. Moneybags, will not take your job seriously as, the assumption being that, you will be consumed by the planning of your wedding, the blissful honeymoon vacation you will be taking after, the maternity-leave to shortly follow and the eventual two-weeks notice as you just can't bear leaving your beautiful cherub with a stranger at home.
High-class problems.
My question is: When did the world become so judgmental?
I can't tell if it's because I'm a Libra or if I really just don't care, but that is not how my mind operates. I've always looked at issues from the outside and viewed all arguments as if they were my own but I never actually come to a finite conclusion based on my one-sided perception of some one else's life that I know nothing about.
It bothers me that no one stops to think about the myriad of issues this person could face in their day to day life just because they have a 3-Carat Ascher cut on their left hand. One of the commenters noted that she will never take off the ring her late husband gave her - but needs to work because she doesn't actually have a wealthy husband to 'take care' of her (I hate that term).
In this time of high mortgage interest rates and higher divorce rates, who wouldn't want a back-up plan?
WHO'S BUSINESS IS IT ANYWAY?
People should be hired based on their abilities and ambitions, not the assumption that you 'need' to work.
But who am I to judge your hiring tactics?
In my experience, people, in general, are judgmental. Not necessarily in the mean sort of way but in the automatic perception of things that are presented to them at face value. I was reading an article today on Huffington Post about engagement ring discrimination.
Yup. Engagement ring discrimination.
Now, we all know that the best thing about online articles is the comments section. The debate on this topic was actually less criticizing back and forth and more frank discussion on the ACTUAL effects of wearing your gifted bling when interviewing.
It was said on an online job board that women who are interviewing for new jobs should NOT wear an engagement ring as they will be discriminated against by those who feel that cut, carat and color are an indicator of what kind of money is already in your bank account or your fiance's bank account. The argument is that you are not to be taken seriously as YOU, soon to be Mrs. Moneybags, will not take your job seriously as, the assumption being that, you will be consumed by the planning of your wedding, the blissful honeymoon vacation you will be taking after, the maternity-leave to shortly follow and the eventual two-weeks notice as you just can't bear leaving your beautiful cherub with a stranger at home.
High-class problems.
My question is: When did the world become so judgmental?
I can't tell if it's because I'm a Libra or if I really just don't care, but that is not how my mind operates. I've always looked at issues from the outside and viewed all arguments as if they were my own but I never actually come to a finite conclusion based on my one-sided perception of some one else's life that I know nothing about.
It bothers me that no one stops to think about the myriad of issues this person could face in their day to day life just because they have a 3-Carat Ascher cut on their left hand. One of the commenters noted that she will never take off the ring her late husband gave her - but needs to work because she doesn't actually have a wealthy husband to 'take care' of her (I hate that term).
In this time of high mortgage interest rates and higher divorce rates, who wouldn't want a back-up plan?
WHO'S BUSINESS IS IT ANYWAY?
People should be hired based on their abilities and ambitions, not the assumption that you 'need' to work.
But who am I to judge your hiring tactics?
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Text-Mess
Cell phones. Emails. Text-messaging. Facebook. Myspace (RIP). Twitter.
The blessed gifts of today's technology.
While initial intentions were surely to bring people closer together, I truly believe that technology has torn us all apart. Better yet, it doesn't even allow us to create real relationships that are worth holding together.
These easy, false friendships.
When someone doesn't respond to a text or comment on a status update or reply to us on twitter, our actual loneliness behind the computer screen/cell phone/tablet turns into cyber-resentment.
Here's the thing about text: In texting, tweeting or just plain old typing, very few people have the ability to imbue sub-text. Even fewer people have the ability to glean the sub-text within the context of a text.
We are all guilty. If not by assuming the meaning of an ambiguous message to mean more - or less - than what is actually intended, then by being the person who sends said message. We have all sent the "I'm tired of talking to you but I would rather you stop texting me first so I'm going to send ambiguous non-committal responses to whatever you're saying until you leave me alone" message. These messages include, but are not limited to, 'words' such as "smh", "K", "dunno" and the all-encompassing "LOL". Let's be real, you are not really laughing out loud. It was not that funny.
What I have seen, more often than than not, is that outside of text (AKA real-life), some folks just don't know how to act. The natural evolution of a 'comfort-zone' between two people who are getting to know each other is stunted. Uncomfortable, even if necessary, conversations are halted abruptly - because they can be. All of a sudden the person normally responding at record text speed is leaving hour-long gaps between responses. No non-smiley facial expressions. No natural emotional reactions. No real connection.
What's worse is that we are generally more forgiving of a non-responsive texter than a non-responsive talker. The excuse is almost always that we don't know what the other person is doing while we were waiting for their text. Imaginary emergency situations are always the first to pop up in your mind. There's always the possibility of them being in transport or having a conversation with their grandmother who lives in a foreign country on the phone. But honestly, nine times out of ten, they've seen your message, chosen not to respond to it and have likely texted, tweeted or commented on someone else's new Facebook profile picture while you're waiting for a response.
As someone who knows someone (read: me) who has built a 'relationship', broken down over the lack of relating in said 'relationship' and broken up said 'relationship' via text, I can only advise against this being the primary mode of communication. I beg of you, masses: Call, meet up, go out and create connections with people in real time. Allow for emotional responses in person. Learn how someone actually lives their life instead of just how they tell you they do. Convenience is NOT always key. Real relationships are built on commitment and compromise. 'Love' is indeed an action word and it requires actions, not just text, to be sustained. So think twice the next time you meet someone on Facebook, email them your phone number and start a textual relationship. You might start something that easily transforms from flirty text messages to dinner, movies and matrimony but, more likely than not, you might get stuck in a cyber faux-mance.
The blessed gifts of today's technology.
While initial intentions were surely to bring people closer together, I truly believe that technology has torn us all apart. Better yet, it doesn't even allow us to create real relationships that are worth holding together.
These easy, false friendships.
When someone doesn't respond to a text or comment on a status update or reply to us on twitter, our actual loneliness behind the computer screen/cell phone/tablet turns into cyber-resentment.
Here's the thing about text: In texting, tweeting or just plain old typing, very few people have the ability to imbue sub-text. Even fewer people have the ability to glean the sub-text within the context of a text.
We are all guilty. If not by assuming the meaning of an ambiguous message to mean more - or less - than what is actually intended, then by being the person who sends said message. We have all sent the "I'm tired of talking to you but I would rather you stop texting me first so I'm going to send ambiguous non-committal responses to whatever you're saying until you leave me alone" message. These messages include, but are not limited to, 'words' such as "smh", "K", "dunno" and the all-encompassing "LOL". Let's be real, you are not really laughing out loud. It was not that funny.
What I have seen, more often than than not, is that outside of text (AKA real-life), some folks just don't know how to act. The natural evolution of a 'comfort-zone' between two people who are getting to know each other is stunted. Uncomfortable, even if necessary, conversations are halted abruptly - because they can be. All of a sudden the person normally responding at record text speed is leaving hour-long gaps between responses. No non-smiley facial expressions. No natural emotional reactions. No real connection.
What's worse is that we are generally more forgiving of a non-responsive texter than a non-responsive talker. The excuse is almost always that we don't know what the other person is doing while we were waiting for their text. Imaginary emergency situations are always the first to pop up in your mind. There's always the possibility of them being in transport or having a conversation with their grandmother who lives in a foreign country on the phone. But honestly, nine times out of ten, they've seen your message, chosen not to respond to it and have likely texted, tweeted or commented on someone else's new Facebook profile picture while you're waiting for a response.
As someone who knows someone (read: me) who has built a 'relationship', broken down over the lack of relating in said 'relationship' and broken up said 'relationship' via text, I can only advise against this being the primary mode of communication. I beg of you, masses: Call, meet up, go out and create connections with people in real time. Allow for emotional responses in person. Learn how someone actually lives their life instead of just how they tell you they do. Convenience is NOT always key. Real relationships are built on commitment and compromise. 'Love' is indeed an action word and it requires actions, not just text, to be sustained. So think twice the next time you meet someone on Facebook, email them your phone number and start a textual relationship. You might start something that easily transforms from flirty text messages to dinner, movies and matrimony but, more likely than not, you might get stuck in a cyber faux-mance.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Why Are You Still Talking To Me
I have always thought that the way people show interest in what someone else is saying was universal. You respond to what someone is saying and/or ask questions. You become visibly engaged in what this person is saying. You interact. I like to think of myself as the type of person who knows when to shut up in response to the lack of interest I feel coming from the other side of a 'conversation' and I like to think that other people would know when to do the same.
It would seem that this is not the case.
Being the stony, anti-social loner I believe myself to be, I feel that I have mastered my uninterested face as well as my steely 'Why the hell are you even looking at me?' glare. While I do believe that no one is immune to the silencing effects of them (usually paired with the simple act of walking away), some are just stupidly oblivious.
How is it that someone can be so self-involved to continue talking to someone, WITH ENTHUSIASM, who is so clearly not giving a damn about what you are talking about?
As my current beef is in the workplace, I can't pull the stunt usually reserved for strangers: Either walking away from someone I don't care about at the pivotal moment in the middle of their sentence, or stating, "I didn't come here to talk to you" and then walking away. My goal is to leave the other party with a sense of hollow abandonment.
To deal with this particular person, I've developed a 'staggered response and ignore' tactic which seems to be breaking them down. As this person is known to emotionally purge on everyone they come into contact with, I can't simply cut them cold turkey. I don't want any tearful, lengthy emails sent to me on an hourly basis and I really don't want to be named in anyone's open suicide poem to the world. That would just make me look bad for not being a coddling enabler.
It would seem that this is not the case.
Being the stony, anti-social loner I believe myself to be, I feel that I have mastered my uninterested face as well as my steely 'Why the hell are you even looking at me?' glare. While I do believe that no one is immune to the silencing effects of them (usually paired with the simple act of walking away), some are just stupidly oblivious.
How is it that someone can be so self-involved to continue talking to someone, WITH ENTHUSIASM, who is so clearly not giving a damn about what you are talking about?
As my current beef is in the workplace, I can't pull the stunt usually reserved for strangers: Either walking away from someone I don't care about at the pivotal moment in the middle of their sentence, or stating, "I didn't come here to talk to you" and then walking away. My goal is to leave the other party with a sense of hollow abandonment.
To deal with this particular person, I've developed a 'staggered response and ignore' tactic which seems to be breaking them down. As this person is known to emotionally purge on everyone they come into contact with, I can't simply cut them cold turkey. I don't want any tearful, lengthy emails sent to me on an hourly basis and I really don't want to be named in anyone's open suicide poem to the world. That would just make me look bad for not being a coddling enabler.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Two Thoughts
In the past few days, I've come to a few realizations.
One: As a newly self-proclaimed 'writer', I think I'm going to have to write something that would make it possible to be publicly acknowledged as a writer...and might, you know, generate some actual income.
Two: I need to know whatever the name of the phobia is when you're paranoid that someone is trying to do something to you or your personal stuff when you're not around, or playing some kind of secret joke on you that everyone in the world is in on...and against you.
My reasoning is that this fear comes from either or both of two things. One is the fact that I'm the youngest of 5 children with a mother who felt that you just didn't need to know. About anything (as opposed to now when she feels the need to describe everything, from what she had to lunch and how her co-workers reacted to her meal and what she said to them and how she said it to them to her trip to the doctor and how she couldn't find parking and how she had to tell the doctor why she was late and who she saw on the street and how she had to avoid them in order to get to her doctor's appointment...). I always felt left out of the loop and that continued with my social life as I grew older (sheltered, naive and shy child syndrome). Every time I see a piece of stray lint on my washcloth or a cup of my coffee that I'm SURE has mysteriously rotated 45 degrees clockwise in Starbucks when I look away for two seconds, I'm convinced that someone has been doing something salacious with my property as some kind of practical joke. The other, of course is the influx of stupid reality shows where you can either see the actions of everyone in the show behind the backs of everyone else on the show or the ones that are intentionally setting people up for comedy and ratings like Disaster date or Girls Behaving Badly.
I just can't shake the feeling that someone is out to get me and expose my idiocy on National Television.
Yes, I have trust issues.
One: As a newly self-proclaimed 'writer', I think I'm going to have to write something that would make it possible to be publicly acknowledged as a writer...and might, you know, generate some actual income.
Two: I need to know whatever the name of the phobia is when you're paranoid that someone is trying to do something to you or your personal stuff when you're not around, or playing some kind of secret joke on you that everyone in the world is in on...and against you.
My reasoning is that this fear comes from either or both of two things. One is the fact that I'm the youngest of 5 children with a mother who felt that you just didn't need to know. About anything (as opposed to now when she feels the need to describe everything, from what she had to lunch and how her co-workers reacted to her meal and what she said to them and how she said it to them to her trip to the doctor and how she couldn't find parking and how she had to tell the doctor why she was late and who she saw on the street and how she had to avoid them in order to get to her doctor's appointment...). I always felt left out of the loop and that continued with my social life as I grew older (sheltered, naive and shy child syndrome). Every time I see a piece of stray lint on my washcloth or a cup of my coffee that I'm SURE has mysteriously rotated 45 degrees clockwise in Starbucks when I look away for two seconds, I'm convinced that someone has been doing something salacious with my property as some kind of practical joke. The other, of course is the influx of stupid reality shows where you can either see the actions of everyone in the show behind the backs of everyone else on the show or the ones that are intentionally setting people up for comedy and ratings like Disaster date or Girls Behaving Badly.
I just can't shake the feeling that someone is out to get me and expose my idiocy on National Television.
Yes, I have trust issues.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
The Lonelies
Here's the thing about being a loner...
It's lonely.
It's not that I don't like to be by myself...I do.
But a loner's loneliness, when they get lonely, is like lonely times ten.
It's not understanding why you suddenly want to be around someone but not wanting to be bothered and snapping at everyone who asks you what's wrong...only further isolating yourself.
It's a vicious cycle.
It's not that I don't have friends, I do. I just, for some reason, don't really want to be around them. Friends will either hold your hand in silence or try to psycho-analyze you so that THEY can understand what you're not talking about and I really don't want to risk the latter.
I don't know.
It's lonely.
It's not that I don't like to be by myself...I do.
But a loner's loneliness, when they get lonely, is like lonely times ten.
It's not understanding why you suddenly want to be around someone but not wanting to be bothered and snapping at everyone who asks you what's wrong...only further isolating yourself.
It's a vicious cycle.
It's not that I don't have friends, I do. I just, for some reason, don't really want to be around them. Friends will either hold your hand in silence or try to psycho-analyze you so that THEY can understand what you're not talking about and I really don't want to risk the latter.
I don't know.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The C-word
I am having a drink.
My usual drink of choice is shots of tequila but I couldn't feel the square shape of Jose Cuervo amongst the bottles in the darkness of my coat closet. For now I'm taking swigs of whatever is in my flask. Ciroc? I dunno.
One of my closest friends is the farthest away from me. By thousands of miles (Literally. The military takes you way too far from home to do a lot of nothing). In the distance, there is seemingly a lot to be said and once one topic is exhausted another is started.
Today's topic: The C-word.
Children.
Apparently, my dream of a brood of 4-6 is slowly fading as my age progresses. I'm 26. 37 year-olds who are trying to get drunk enough to get the courage to pop holes in a condom and trap their blind date hate me. My age doesn't make it any less easy to deal with.
But, yeah. With the C-word comes the accompanying L-word. (This we shall not name.)
Ahhhh, the ever-elusive L-word. It surrounds you in the form of annoying friends professing their undying devotion to some partner they just met on twitter but it never quite smacks you in the face like you want it to.
My experience with the L-word consists of stalkers, 'situations' and strings attaching me to people who don't understand that the definitions of 'effort' and 'ignore' are not inverted.
My L-word life in a nutshell. Nice, right?
Thanks to my buddy, currently (appx.) 6,500 miles too far for me to kick in the shin, I am emotionally down and swigging vodka like it's Gatorade.
These are the nights I understand how women can eat themselves into an ice cream coma.
I'm going to refrain from typing past this line as my vision is starting to blur.
My usual drink of choice is shots of tequila but I couldn't feel the square shape of Jose Cuervo amongst the bottles in the darkness of my coat closet. For now I'm taking swigs of whatever is in my flask. Ciroc? I dunno.
One of my closest friends is the farthest away from me. By thousands of miles (Literally. The military takes you way too far from home to do a lot of nothing). In the distance, there is seemingly a lot to be said and once one topic is exhausted another is started.
Today's topic: The C-word.
Children.
Apparently, my dream of a brood of 4-6 is slowly fading as my age progresses. I'm 26. 37 year-olds who are trying to get drunk enough to get the courage to pop holes in a condom and trap their blind date hate me. My age doesn't make it any less easy to deal with.
But, yeah. With the C-word comes the accompanying L-word. (This we shall not name.)
Ahhhh, the ever-elusive L-word. It surrounds you in the form of annoying friends professing their undying devotion to some partner they just met on twitter but it never quite smacks you in the face like you want it to.
My experience with the L-word consists of stalkers, 'situations' and strings attaching me to people who don't understand that the definitions of 'effort' and 'ignore' are not inverted.
My L-word life in a nutshell. Nice, right?
Thanks to my buddy, currently (appx.) 6,500 miles too far for me to kick in the shin, I am emotionally down and swigging vodka like it's Gatorade.
These are the nights I understand how women can eat themselves into an ice cream coma.
I'm going to refrain from typing past this line as my vision is starting to blur.
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