Our modern day tragedy.

This isn't a political blog. BUT,

the situation in Israel and the Gaza strip/territory (Hamas, a.k.a BASTARDS, have set up shop here) is a treacherous mess. One can see that this is a modern day holocaust, with perhaps a flip-flopping of events (religions). The people of Israel should understand the suffering of their very own ancestors, not only in more recent history but for the last thousands and thousands of years, and should thus, fully grasp, if not deeply emphasize, with the innocent Palestinian people along the Gaza strip. It's arguable that Hamas is merely using these victims as targets for their own political agenda. (BASTARDS!) Perhaps equitable to the Hitler of another era? Then there's the alternative view - Hamas, loyal fighters, doing what they need to do to protect the poor and innocent Palestinian people. I'm not exactly buying into this perspective. Nor am I in favor of Israel attacking, and confining inoffensive people to a small strip of land. Many reports also suggest the Israeli's are not allowing humanitarian aid into the region either. Frankly, both parties royally suck.

Even so, I know less than half of the historical battle of these people and of these lands, but I do know that little children are being mass murdered for political gain. Any way you look it, it's fucking garbage. It needs to stop and a peace agreement must be made.

I'll leave you with some sad statistics:

A recent study reports that 46% of all Gazan children suffer from acute anemia. There are reports that the sonic booms associated with Israeli overflights have caused widespread deafness, especially among children. Malnutrition is extremely high and affects, in varying degrees, 75% of Gazans. Likewise, Gaza typically spends at least 12 hours a day without power. Basic drugs and medicine are no longer available. The generators for hospitals, vital to keep seriously ill patients alive, lack fuel and often do not function. Medical staff cannot control the temperature of incubators for newborns. Those who need specialized care, including cancer patients and those in need of kidney dialysis, often cannot leave Gaza for care. There were an estimated 230 Gazans believed to have died last year because they were denied proper medical care. Several of those patients spent their last hours at Israeli crossing points where they were refused entry into Israel.

Just shitty. To think I'm worlds apart from this crisis, and yet, so deeply touched by the magnitude of suffering.

What more can I do, but sigh in disbelief?

Madness re-defined (simplified version.)

Have a realistic view of what you desire from a person. When you think you've found somebody worth exploring, give to that person what you expect and more. All the while, know that people are people - perfection is not a quality anybody possesses. With this in mind, be yourself. The relationship can then be meaningful and well worth the time and effort spent.

Madness defined.

Expectations. Reality. Authenticity. Change.

Intentionality. Choice. Trust.

=

(the road to) Love.

We come to expect from our sought after partners. In time, real people come to fruition - authentic people surfacing beyond the superficial. Change weakens our perceived notions, as shock, if not betrayal, of our own misguidance, becomes the realization of blinding, false expectations. When the real person seeks the real person, however, the intentional changing of the heart deepens the love. A condition of the soul of propitious happening follows as the intensity of emotional attachment bonds a set of expectations molded between two authentic works of mind and body. A unanimous and trustworthy choice, forever changing the oneness that once was; all the while, remembering the naïveté in the seeking of the one that could be.

Thoughts versus feelings take two.

Thoughts and logic justify reason.

Feelings and emotion redefine it.

Express yourself.

Holiday cheer and snow have kept me from my vigorous state of reflective writing. And let's face it, I'm such a deep, esoteric soul - I gather most people find me a tad mad. As it goes, I can't help but share my deliberate - a few may argue - ignorant, musings. Perhaps they're solely for me, and one other degenerate who accidentally falls upon this note.

Regardless, my latest contemplation: Thoughts v. Feelings.

In my contemplative mode, I must define the two in my little brain. But of course, thoughts convey to the listener what we are thinking, which are often referred to as cognitions. Feelings convey to the listener our emotional and/or physical states. Emotions can be distinguished as “feelings,” and physical feelings, as “sensations.” How we effectively express this data is important. Bottom line is this: it’s all data—feeling or emotional data, and thinking, cognitive or intellectual data. But the real significance lies in the ability to accurately send the data; the more accurate, the greater the chance at being appreciated and understood.

Sounds simple enough. NOT.

It's not an easy task, as it forces people to let down their guards, and to be put in a defenseless, exposed spot. Correct me if I'm wrong here, but many people struggle with this part of their authenticity. Who wants to be a susceptible sitting duck with a 12 gauge staring down the noggin? (Do ducks get shot in the head even? I really have no clue. What is a 12 gauge anyway? I really have no clue. This example really sucks.) I think I have a point though. Expressing oneself is, and again, not easy. Especially when it comes to the expression of feelings. Even so, most people want to be both appreciated and understood, and thus, an exploration of effort worth your while.

For fear of going on to the point of oblivion, let me finally stop here, and make this blurb worth the read, by extending to you the objective of how to be a successful sitting duck. I'm certain we've all heard the expression, I feel therefore I am. Okay so, not exactly verbatum, but close enough. Here's the cinch: Expose yourself. Or better yet, and if it helps, look to Madonna for personal influence. Although maybe not as philosophically-Rene Descartes-sound, she definitely has a convincing way of expressing this persuasion.

Mama didn't raise no fool.

I got to see two of my beautiful California people briefly this past Sunday. We met for coffee before they headed back to Sunnyland. (I'm not in the least jealous.) It was superb to see them, and I left the conversation feeling fulfilled for several reasons.

First of all, they're awesome. Secondly, they're awesome. But also, I walked away from the conversation with piece of mind. I sometimes question the legitimacy of my outlook and feelings, and often try to gain perspective via my family and friends. Hopefully this is not unlike most people. The feedback I receive from people I respect and admire is my tank filler at times, and insight that helps put my chaos into a more orderly mess.

Surprise, surprise! The topic of relationships came to the surface, and my married friends, of whom are expecting a baby boy, began to talk about their personal dating experience. The Mom-to-be, and fellow mate who has the great ability to tell it like it is (my kind of Mama!), states quite frankly, that she knew her Daddy-to-be was "the one" after their first kiss. I believe this was only their second date.

I sat in a state of "wow." Talk about knowing what you want, recognizing it, and not being afraid to embrace it. Mama even told her roommate at the time, following their second date, "I think this is the man I'm going to marry." In my book, that's ballsy, as it's essentially setting yourself up for a major let down. I mean, seriously, how can one be so sure? Mama went on to say, "Well, don't you know when it isn't right? Same is true for the alternative." Good point. Wise words my friend...

Thing is, and because it's more often 'not right', it becomes really easy to say "this isn't going to work." When you're faced with 'right', however, the said and done approach is not as appropriately utilized. But no matter what, it's still a process. Making a determination that this feels right, must subsequent an intentional follow through. For me though, the follow-up is where confusion lies. Shouldn't their be a road map to help guide situations such as this? Isn't their a time line that keeps the forward motion on an adapted sequential spectrum? Like (Cali at its finest!), for instance, we've known each other for such and such length of time, so therefore, I should be feeling this way at this very moment. Or, when we reach this marker on the defining spectrum, it's safe to define the status of the relationship in this way. Another marker determining yet another milestone, and so on...

Perhaps this works for some people. For me too when I'm not asking my friends for their incredible acumen. I think Mama is a true genius - always good to have these adept people around. Sure, time does reveal and time does alter the state of relationships. But when it's right, it's right. Time will certainly alter a right thing, arguably, making it that much more right.

Mama taught, or more accurately, re-taught me this: The direction on the road map and time line to get there is not defined in any particular way or order. Simply knowing you're on this adventurous road with the right person is more than enough guidance to get you there.

Meanwhile, enjoy the ride.

Early retirement.

Choice is powerful. And it can surely go two ways. Too much of it can be both a good and bad thing. Living in such a fortunate country has provided me and the people around me an ample amount of choice in all areas of life. The downer for me is, I can be a bit indecisive and having an array to choose from often puts me in a major spin. For example, going shopping is a pain, as picking out just the right shoe or perfect fitting jacket has consistently proven troublesome. Even considering a meal can be a long drawn out affair in my world. And look how many toothpaste options we have! My goodness, I'm spinning just thinking about it. Make-up and hair products are also a pain in my arse. There's just way too many concoctions claiming to be the ingredients to end the bad of all bad hair days. Unfortunately, my frizz is on a continuum and I'm finally coming to grips with it. Still, piling on the gumpy plaster (brand specific pertaining to the month) is an absolute must.

It's great to have so many options, but truth is, I'm a spoiled mess because of it. Not only with materialistic things, but also with my relationships. I have many, many good friends and a great family - countless people that basically, and in a nutshell, rock my world. I've also not had limited choice when it comes to men. Yes, and as my previous entries will convey, they're difficult to understand at times, but overall, I have had my choice. This sounds awful; borderline conceited even. The goal is not to come off this way, but the purpose of pointing out I have men at my disposal, serves a purpose. Because they're available, it's another area in my life where I have been extremely indecisive. Naturally, if one doesn't meet the criteria on the list, perhaps another one will. The "moving on" mentality is the aftermath of my confidence that I'll have yet another opportunity to cross another off and continue to be on my merry little way.

I can chalk this terrible pattern solely up to choice, but there are layers that have ultimately enabled me to get good at what I do. I would even venture to say that I'm a Professional Pick & Chooser. All of this grand fortune has created an uncontrollable PPC, until now that is....Choosing can be exhausting and maddening, too. Case in point: I've known many bride-to-be's who go through a trillion dresses - leading to the stir crazy bridezilla mode - the minor, miniscule details of each and every dress becoming almost a blur, until finally, the perfect dress, meets the mad-zilla woman. It's comical to think that the previous 1,999,999,999,999 dresses weren't good enough. If I had my way, and I most certainly will at some point, I'll choose a simple classy dress and be perfectly thrilled with the man and the union. Shouldn't this be enough? Why choose through a massive selection of flower arrangements, party favors, assorted colored napkins, etc., to the point of sheer madness, only to come to the same conclusion - happily ever after. One can hope, right? This hopeless romantic believes it is so.

Being as it may, this PPC is controlled at this moment in time. Gratefully, I've learned from my years as a PPC. Selection and choice have certainly been good to me - I categorically know what I don't want (refer to the 'List of new,' blog entry, Sept. 29, 2008). But more importantly, I know what sits before me now. I think this PPC is retiring, or perhaps just taking a mini sabbatical, but as of now, she's decided she's going to sit tight and see if this choice, at the very least, is worth the pit stop.

The Choice is Yours.

This or that.

Runaway bride.

I'm confident it's out there. The question is: Am I ready for it? Reality is an intimidating thing, and I'm finding myself in a bit of a struggle because of my inability to fully embrace the thing that I desire most. Maybe the mystery is worth pursuing, but when found, the dissatisfaction of no longer needing to pursue is what keeps me at length from my craving. This could be a factor, partially anyway. As rationale would have it, I do see the pleasure I get in pursuit, but am also sensible enough to know that you can only go so far before exhaustion takes over - the quest being ever-so emotionally taxing.

The fight for me now is to keep pushing forward, an almost mentally challenging endeavor. Worth it, however, as I know it'd be foolish to continue to seek to no end. Sure, the pleasure of getting here ceases to be, but the bliss to come is spirit-filled and a needed energy, restored.

The better question is: Why run from splendor? Just the thought of it makes me spent.

I don't know what to call this entry.

Merriam-Webster dictionary defines vulnerable as such:

capable of being physically or emotionally wounded

I've given this 'way of being' a lot of thought recently. The Merriam-Webster duo certainly provide an interesting definition as well. I'm not arguing with it, but I do question the nature of how it plays into our lives. How do we become capable of being wounded? If I had a choice, I'd say, I don't want to be wounded - I don't want any part of vulnerability and what it has to offer. Count me out. Which is exactly the choice I've made in many instances in my life. Almost so that I have not experienced an emotional wound in a lengthy amount of time. I had no idea, until I looked it up that is, that the Merriam-Webster duo defined us as "capable" of vulnerability, yet all the while, capable or not, I have consciously made decisions that have kept me from harm's way.

All in all, a seemingly great choice. Avoiding wounds is a human survival technique, is it not? Without question, it is. Even so, what if I consciously made the choice never to be made vulnerable? I suppose that would make way for an unquestionably safe lifestyle. Particularly, emotionally. Thus, it would make perfect sense to say, I will not enter into a relationship, for fear of being made vulnerable. The alternative, however reluctantly, is choosing to be single, in an attempt to avoid the emotional instability altogether.

What a crock of *h%t. Right?

In my experience, and ultimately, the attempt at avoidance, merely exposes a vulnerable state of wanting exactly what the effort is avoiding in the first place. The wound of longing is strong, if not, just as strong as the aftermath of a failed relationship. Believe me, this has been tried and tested, and believe me, this is a long, and grueling chosen road...

Capable. It's an interesting word choice. How about inevitable or unavoidable? Perhaps making an addendum to the definition would be a good idea. I suppose we're all very well capable of being vulnerable. To whatever degree though, if the end goal is to live a full life, leaving room for an unavoidable emotional and/or physical wound is a tenable theory, and in this lifetime, probably the most propitious way to reach your intended desires.

This quote wraps up my verbose entry in a nutshell:

We're never so vulnerable than when we trust

someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust,

neither can we find love or joy.
~Walter Anderson

Collector of men.

I was talking to a friend the other day. She tells me, "Deb, brace yourself for this, but 'so and so' said he believes you're a "collector of men" and his friend feels the same way, in fact, he called you a "player" too. After a laugh, and some consideration, I'm convinced protective mechanisms work.

I am not going to fib on my Innit blogspot, I do have male friends. However, I do not sit around counting the dollar value of this so-called collection, like perhaps I did back-in-the-day with my soarly missed Garbage Pail Kids cards. It was a sad day, if my memory serves me right. I left them in Germany, underneath our wooden plank floors. It was a safe place, or so I thought, as my brother couldn't find them. Turns out, they don't appear to be worth much today. Still, I loved those things. And cried on the plane ride over when I had realized they weren't in my possession. This collection is long gone, the memories still so vivid....

I really haven't collected anything since. Maybe it has something to do with the post-trauma of my GPK loss? I'm not opposed to collection, however; my Grandfather had the most amazing stamp and train collection, of which I took great interest in. I even admired my brother's baseball card collection, spending countless nights flipping through the Beckett price guide with him. His pog collection was also a point of interest. It makes sense that these materialistic goods are viewed as collector's items, but men? A collection of men? Seriously? Ridiculous.

Again, I do have my male friends, and I'm a strong believer that these friends keep me open to the possibility of finding somebody beyond the friendship definition at some point. And as previously mentioned, keeping a guy "just a friend" is a by product of my self-protection, that's certainly served me well for the last, say, 5 years or so. I've had small "more than friends" encounters, but nothing I'd call super significant. (Sorry to those "more than friends" encounters, who may flip through this entry. No harm intended.)

I'm now at a precarious point. I'm not sure if it's the timing - where I am in my life, but I'm running into 'prospects' much more often these days. I know this has everything to do with my personal life circumstances. The defense mechanism, although still vaguely present, is no longer a massive barrier. I can see through my wall now - part of my personal growth involves the creation of an innate technological gadget allowing me visual penetration, some call it x-ray vision - a helpful tool I commonly use. I also admit, I want a dude who believes I'm worth going after. I'm not in it to play games or collect an assortment; but I am looking for the one that'll stand out from the rest of the pack. And I also recognize that it'll mean, I'm the girl that has to stand out from the rest of his other "just a friend" girls in his circle. It's a two way street. Call me a collector, I'm cool with that. As far as I'm concerned, men have been collecting for too long, women generally waiting patiently on the sidelines. Frankly, I've never been that girl who's happy playing right bench.

Center mid - my position on the field, my position in life.

Never trust a big butt and a smile.

This seems to follow me where ever I go. A recurring theme in my life.

Bummin' it will get you that.

I like meeting new candidates. Living in an isolated bubble with only a small handful is not only boring, but is in essence cheating oneself of a multitude and variety of 'meet and greets' that are rather enjoyable. But more than the enjoyment and added bonus of getting to know people who really fulfill and complement who you are, is the ability to let go of those candidates that aren't at all suitable. Chances are, if you don't stretch yourself and your social circles, you'll be left hanging on to a less than fitting pal.

All the same, many people claim they'll never "settle." I don't believe them. However, I am a believer of people thinking they won't ever settle. This strategy works for many, and even myself when I begin to get complacent with the day-to-day mundane and start thinking, "hell, he's not that bad." As luck would have it though, these mini relationships are short lived in my world, as I tend to shift gears quite a bit, and question my level of contentment more often than the next person. Which ultimately leaves me taking a pass on several gentleman I encounter. Not because I think I'm somehow better than him, but simply because the fit is based on something shallow, and something less than what I hope to find one day.

Fact: I will not settle. (What follows? My thoughts on settling....)

Perhaps the attitude of settling and not settling is directly linked to two specific things: self-esteem and/or laziness or even both in some cases. Then again, dating is difficult, both time consuming (lazy people can't be bothered), and stressful (frequent dating, followed by frequent rejection can lead to more sweaty palms than desirable, and naturally, avoided by most low-self-esteem-ers), but the reality is, and more often than not, it doesn't work out (again, lazy people can't be bothered). But when things 'sorta' click, both the lazies and those who lack self-confidence/efficacy will give more weight and significance to something that does not worthy a full fledged, and arguably, forced connection.

In short, a good convincing coupled with any given amount of effort, will get you exactly that. If you don't want that, I suggest you get of your ass, build on your self worth and don't sell your badass self short. Because dammit, you're worth it.

Guiltless grill.

I share an opinion on all people in my life. My mom, caring & selfless, with a spicey, borderline raging-passion filled personality. My dad, quiet & thoughtful, but manic all the same. My eldest sister, lovely & supportive - so supportive she ensures that all business is her own. My other sister, demure & sweet; a passivity all too often giving people the rights to take advantage of her kindness. My brother, a considerate & kind person with deep insecurities which frequently mask these wonderful qualities. My friends - short, tall, skinny, mad, sane, obnoxious, sweet, experienced, innocent, fiery, mute, narcissistic, overly considerate, too blunt, too nice, not blunt enough....OH, how I could go on....

Accordingly, when I get into discussions about the various people in my life with other various people in my life, I find myself feeling guilty, after the fact, for saying some of the things that I say, about the various people in my life (damn, mouthful.). I all to often sit with myself afterwards, pondering how some of these things could slip off of the tongue so freely. And then, I stop my guilt in it's tracks. Why should I feel guilty about my own personal outlook? Would it not be dishonest of me to deny exactly how I view a person? I'm not saying my opinions are all valid, but they're mine and true to me. We ALL have feelings and opinions about the people in our life - some of us are just a little more upfront about our assessments.

Nevertheless, it does not change the fact that I LOVE these people no matter what their flaws are. Any person who knows me knows that I can't contain myself sometimes. Which is clearly a flaw in many ways, and believe you me, I have many others I could add to a proliferous list. Thank to goodness, people love me anyway for it. I can certainly appreciate a good lashing, too, as I continuously strive to be a better person. Self-reflection is the key to my growth, and my friends and loved ones are integral to my evolutionary process. Please tell me I'm inconsiderate, edging on rude, and I hope I can take it all in, knowing it's said in love, and meant solely for self-improvement.

On this note, everything I say, my thoughts included, are a reflection of love. Nothing more, nothing less. And now I take a breather, and the guilt subsides...."I want my baby back, baby back, baby back...."

It's not just a nervous twitch. Nor do I have tourettes.

Banter and Crass.

I cannot stand these two words. Okay, a bit of an understatement. I hate these two words. There, much better said. When I hear them roll off the tip of various tongues, my inner ear cringes; a seemingly natural symptomatic recoiling of my distaste. This is followed by an automatic rejection triggered by my brain, that if quick enough, the observer will witness the slight contraction of my eyes.

I literally....cringe.

Reason: I have found that both of these grotesque words often come from pompous morons; those who have an intellectual superiority complex, which we all know is synonymous with an inferiority complex - merely, different expressions of the same pathology. My response is justified in this regard. People trying to prove something, while projecting that others are beneath them, is actually a way to hide or compensate for feeling of inferiority. But for those that lack confidence, thus accept their inferiority, and when confronted by pompous morons, sadly, fall prey to their trap. A vicious cycle of sadness, but ironically, both individuals are of the same inferior circle. And if they didn't mask themselves with doubt and lies, they could very well be great friends. A sad situation any way you look at it.

The ongoing circle of life brings me back to my point. If you would like to annoy me in the future, please, use these aforementioned words as much as you'd like. Or, and if you want to avoid the contracting eye twitch, or potential slap, you can be normal and use normal words. Let me offer a few synonyms for you PM's:

Banter: joking, joshing, kidding, dissing, playing, jesting, and if these words are too normal for you, perhaps mockery will do.

Crass: gross, uncultured, crude, tasteless, uncivilized, vulgar

Good luck with the toning down of your brilliance! (aka ineptness.)

--Peace, love & hair grease.

There's no such thing as monsters.

Nate (5 years old) and Jay (3 years): Two lovable characters, and two of the five nephews of whom I all adore! They are too perfect for words. And so it goes...They had me in laughs this past weekend. Specifically, when these two were in conversations with one another. I hadn't seen them since only the beginning of August, but for some reason, they've already grown up in this short time span. The little ones grow up fast, this I know, so I tried to absorb as much as I could while I was with them over the weekend. Needless to say, I observed a lot, specifically a discussion they were having that involved a Halloween candy bowl. The bowl has a creepy looking green hand in the center of it, and when reached into, the sensor moves the hand in a grabbing motion. The discussion went something like this:

Nate: "Jay, come with me to the room. Let's go look at the monster green hand!" (Mind you, Nate is a loud kid. Super expressive. Please take the exclamation marks into account.)

Jay: "No Nate, that's too scary."

Nate: "No it's not. It's just a monster green hand. It's not real. It's fake. Come on Jay!" (Nate walks out of the room.)

(One minute later Nate walks back into the room.....)

Nate: "Jay, please come with me. I'm scared."

Jay: "You don't need to be scared, Nate. There's no such thing as monsters. It's fake."

Neither one went looking for the monster green hand after all, as neither one could convince the other not to be afraid. I have to say though, and as their proud Auntie, I was impressed by their ability to play the courageous role. Of course, they were both scared out of their mind, yet both still tried there best to act brave. I definitely think this is good indication that they have exactly what it takes to be a strong boyfriend one day. As long as these boys continue to put on a good, dauntless show, the girls will trust in their valiant protection, even if, she is the one who always ends up smashing the creepy spider.

The back burner.

I'm flabbergasted. I must be one of the most naive rejects on the planet. To think that people would actually consider other people's feelings is a rarity, or so I've been told by a few friends recently. What a downright shame.

And perhaps, a downright lie. Sadly, people lie to themselves. And it certainly serves a purpose. Living in your own lies masks personal insecurities, whilst and regrettably, hurting others in the process. Where am I going with this? Or where is this coming from rather? Excellent question(s).

When I'm interested in someone, I'm intentional about it. No room for games, no fluff, and famously, my line of all lines, "it is what it is." Amidst all of my insecurities, I'm a secure person. I'm set. Not that I don't waiver, because I do. I'm your typical, average, mediocre human being. But, and gratefully, I've been created to self-express and feel confident with the way I've been put together; my mind, my thoughts, my heart, my feelings, my spiritual connection - all purposeful and all interconnected assuring that my days are not lived in vain. My friendships and relationships are solid. This being said, I would never hurt somebody intentionally, nor would I lead them on to think my intentions weren't so.

It's no surprise then that I do not need somebody on the back burner, while I'm looking for something better. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for dating and having fun, but having somebody on a leash as you flap your puppy dog eyes astray, is never okay. Nor is it what it seems either. The leash holder is the saddest part of this equation; unhappy with themselves, discontent with commitment and sound relationships, and conflicted about what that "better" is supposed to look like.

But what the leash holder doesn't fully understand, is that the search will forever continue. Better is not to be found outside of the fundamental make-up of who you are. The outward exterior is a facade, both in the physical and emotional sense (ie. protective barriers - false bravados - swaggering wishy-washy behavior). It goes without saying, people will never live up to any falsely set expectation. So then, how is it possible to expect something from another when you have no idea who the hell you are? Absurd and beyond reason. Nobody can ever live up to this lie.

Maybe I'm off here, but I believe, the search for the better begins with and ends when the best version of yourself is sought after and discovered (a work in progress (a lifetime of progress)). I'd argue it's the task of all tasks, and the truest way to eliminate further discontent for not only you, but more importantly, for those you leash around.

Dinner date.

"A watched pot never boils."

Or so this is what they say. Who are these "they" anyway? They sure do seem to know a lot. My mom used to always spout out, "You know what they say about this or that...." And I'd always get so agitated (still do) because I never knew (or know) who "they" were (are). Bogus claims all around...

So they say, "a watched pot never boils." I think they were right about this one after all. Quite literally, I know it'll eventually boil if you sit and stare long enough, making sure the burner's on, of course, but still, the waiting anxiously for it to happen is never a good feeling. Whether it's the gnawing hunger pangs, or a longing hope for something to happen, the prolonged unfulfilled desire for-whatever, can be terribly immobilizing.

I experienced this "watched pot never boils" feeling over the weekend. I've never been known to be the most patient person as it is, so when things don't go my way automatically, I can feel very let down, and the by product, an unhappy Debbie. Not a good mix.

This really isn't entirely about me though, this is really more so about what they continually have to say. Needless to say, they have taught me a lot over the years, and I'm only now beginning to appreciate what they have been attempting to teach me all along. Because I know not to sit over a pot waiting for it to boil over (Big ups to they!), I'm going to do my best to let nature take its course. There isn't a lot of point in waiting for the inevitable, is there? Things will turn out as intended, and in their natural course (in the case of boiling water: 100° celsius or 212° fahrenheit). With this in mind, thankfully, anxiety takes a nose dive, and energy is spent where it's meant, cutting up the onions. Or a rug.....dancing the night away!

(This excerpt is dedicated to Marti's soccer practice tee shirt: "A watched pot never boils, so take me out to eat.") Now there's an idea. Anybody?

One heart, one mind.

I wonder, who's the stronger of the two: the mind or the heart. As I write this, I have no idea where this battle will lead, as I still don't have a clear cut understanding of the matters of heart & mind, and perhaps, never will...

I've heard it said, and often recite it myself, "mind over matter." Is the heart simply matter then? I certainly wouldn't put the heart in a category of such simplicity. Most of us would conclude that its power is a force not to be put into a box. The mind too, has certainly been a helpful tool in my life. When I have come up against an intended roadblock, I have thought my way over the top many times, and with this mindset, have overcome many barriers along my path. But I know that when things have been really tough for me, it's my heart that has taken over, even if, poorly at times. Feelings, emotions - sadness, happiness, joy, sorrow. These things are unavoidable, even if the mind would like to ignore them from time to time. In fact, I have utilized the "mind over matter" technique several times in my life. Especially when it comes to the nature of relationship, whether embracing or avoiding them, I've successfully made rational choices, ignoring my futile heart.

Many of us have been hurt. And as a result, many consequential trust issues develop. (The mind protecting the heart, perhaps?) In my experience, when the heart is crushed, the mind does a good job of stepping in. The heart shuts itself down, while the mind attempts to take over, helping to stomp on the plaguing pain of his very dear friend. The heart is truly thankful of the mind during this time of need, yet all the while, the two continue to fight for control, foresight, and in the overall decision-making process. But because the heart is weakened, the mind takes full advantage of its strength, telling the heart, "You're not capable of handling yourself, let me decide what's best for you."

Eventually, and thanks to the protective mind, the heart heals itself. The mind too, forgets the pain of the broken heart. Or is it the heart forgets the pain and the mind heals itself? See, this is where the confusion sets in. The heart does and will heal, but while it's tucked away for any length of time, the mind becomes stronger and stronger, leaving little room for the heart to inch its way onto the decision-making board. Thus, a lonely heart created.

But what the mind fails to recognize is that the lonely heart is one to be reckoned with. A mind cannot go on ignoring the heart that yearns for something the mind can never provide. It's finally at this point in time that the mind and heart begin a new feud. The mind, concrete in strength, protecting his opposing friend to the point of suffocation, begins to realize, the heart must have a say, or neither will ever be happy.

It's only when this realization comes full circle, that the two can live in unison and in harmony. And, once the healing cycle is complete, the two, together, find the united two, in another - an edifice, truly unbreakable.

Boys will be boys.

So tired of boys. At 28, I've met quite a few. My 13-year old nephew is the prototype of what I often still see from the grown up males I've encountered. I'm hesitant to use the term men here because I'm failing to see the qualities that separate the juvenile from the mature man these days. Perhaps, the boy will always be a part of the man, which is definitely a quality that's endearing and, sweet even. But, there comes a point, when we all must take responsibility for the years we've lived. Women included - we can be, and are just as guilty when it comes to stepping up and not saying what we want and how we feel from time to time. But as this entry is about Boys II Men, we'll continue to keep the topic consistent.

The nature of girl/boy interaction and the chemistry that ignites the two is as compatible as my morning coffee. Can't live without it, and it keeps me alive and well. I learned long ago, beginning in my early school days, that pushing a girl on the playground, although not the best way to show her how much you care, certainly got the point across. The boy who treated you like his buddy was a sure bet. As junior high and high school approached, it was the boy who would throw paper wads in your hair during history class, or the boy who would casually bounce a tennis ball off of your head; the same boy who just so happened to be around the corner after your 2nd period class....every day. Those were the tell tale signs this boy showed he was into you. College, appears to be a whole new ball game for boys, the beginning of an altering shift taking place. This shift would seem a natural progression towards manhood, but arguably, a digression is all too common for many collegiate boys. Naturally, the need for college boys to hang on tight to their boyhood (speaking figuratively) is at a high point, as they party hard with their boys, ensuring that growing up is not part of the agenda. Sadly enough, frat status and the four grand university years soon cease to be, maybe sooner than many would like (hence, the 5, 6, and 7 year senior) and the real world awaits to take its place. The dating scene is much different in this arena; not as easy as sitting behind her in class, day in and day out. Now, encounters are fewer and far between. 'Guys' are forced to make their moves much more quickly - to man up, so to speak.

What exactly is that supposed to look like? At this point in the game, many grown up boys are confused and lack the ability to speak in cohesive sentences when it comes to women. Expressing interest and using gentleman-like tactics to show or tell a woman how much he appreciates her, or how much he would like the chance to take her out on a date, is difficult, if not, a foreign concept for him. Sorry boys, getting your soccer ball out of the trunk of your car and casually throwing it in her direction is not going to work as often as it did in the past (however, I may be the only exception to the rule in this instance). And, getting shit faced on a Friday and Saturday night, followed by the 'courageous' approach is also not a good way of expressing interest. Quite frankly, it's cowardly. But understandable as well, because no doubt those college years are a hard one to shake. Unfortunately, and pure fact, there are a lack of gentleman nowadays. As many lack the tools or confidence to step up and say how they feel. Many still, are reluctant to ever grow up.

For those who are fully grown and ready to admit to it, but fail time and again to take the risk to go after the woman of your desire, here's a pretty simple strategy to use: that beautiful woman from across the room wants you to come over and introduce yourself. It's not rocket science. There's nothing to lose and yet, everything to gain (face it, if you never had her in the first place, the potential rejection won't change that fact).

Men, be confident and strong. It goes without saying, real girls won't settle for anything less than. Boys, here's a piece of advice: leave the game playing for your Xbox 360 or weekend intramural and feel free to join adulthood at your convenience.

Chicago said it best.

IKEA build-a-furniture inspires me to be a better person. I'm sure many of you can relate. I had the tremendous pleasure of putting together a bench of sorts yesterday. To my dismay, I opened the two boxes up, separating the faux piece-by-piece-by-piece-by-piece wood, and never did find the piece-by-piece-by-piece-by-piece instruction manual. Thankfully, my trusty roommate (bless her little heart! - Palin; the real inspiration behind everything. (Mega joke.)) and my other go to gal, Google, came to my rescue. Unfortunately though, the printed pictures were not exactly accurate portrayals of the blocks of plywood sitting in front of me. The size and dimensions on paper didn't display the boxed version I had before me. At this point, and as I sat in the scattered mess, there was a small part of me that wanted to quit. Pick up the crap and throw it in the trash. Frankly, the bigger part of me was too lazy to get up to throw the crap in the trash. The biggest part of me, still, welcomed the challenge. Soar fingers, rug burned knees, and several hours later, sat a measurable, completed storage bench, and even more importantly, an immeasurable pure satisfaction within me, that really, only IKEA build-a-furniture can provide.

Anybody who's had the wonderful opportunity of such an adventure understands the feat and can truly attest to my invigorating accomplishment. No doubt, I'm not the first to acknowledge that IKEA should not only be recognized for its notoriously affordable (cheap ass) collections, but more so, be given high praise for its continuous efforts of making people better people. Come to think of it, IKEA are philanthropists in their own right - Providing an altruistic service (the selling of cheap goods) to promote and improve the human quality of life (the suffering performance followed by unequivocal triumph, exemplify amelioration).

Naturally, I feel like a better person today. The process from start to finish, involving both annoyance and frustration, followed up by a wide grin, is a true testament of their cause. I, independently, give props to IKEA build-a-furniture, even if my fingers are physically damaged today. The glory certainly outweighs the pain on this fine day, and personally, the bench sitting in my bedroom is not simply a bench anymore. In sum, me and IKEA are practically one. IKEA, You're The Inspiration.

If IKEA doesn't do it for you like it does me, and you're looking for other inspirational outlets, I suggest a Google image, I'm Feeling Lucky search of Robert Pattinson. For your listening pleasure, All I Can See by Brendan James is also magnificent. (I'm serious about this one. Seriously.)

The girl is mine.

I think I'll make this entire blog about the pondering of a single gal in the city. It appears to be heading in this direction anyway. Eventually, it may shift, but for now I'll continue to be frank about the many relationship opinions I have. Though, the opinions don't stop here people. I'd like to think my brain functioning is fairly multifaceted. I could give a view on most anything, and present it much more persuasively than the general populace. Which, might I add, I do not believe I am always right either. I would imagine I'm far from it. But don't many of us find it easy to convince ourselves how right we are half of the time? (or the majority of the time for you malaperts!) My advice to you: shut up and eat a banana.

Unfortunately, when we stand up on our soapbox, we set ourselves up for a dismal, ill-fated, shitty existence. Being judgmental of others is a really good example. So many people stay true to their kind, by looking down on others, both with a poor attitude and small perspective, but in the end, and because of their inability to be open, leave ample room for a thirst quenching that's way out of their reach - It goes without saying, many never quite taste the intoxicating rich flavor of what's out there for everyone to grasp. If that's you, good luck with your boring life. I'm sure most of us have friends or acquaintances who have a level of arrogance and small-mindedness beyond question, not surprising that these same people are often bitter about their 'shortcomings.' (Not hating on these poor souls. I'm not advocating hate on this blog either. Go on and love these suckas - Lord knows they need it most.)

"Paul, I think I told you, I'm a lover not a fighter." MJ/P. McCartney, 1982. Recite these words when you feel the need to bitch slap your arrogant friend/wife/grandpa/sister/dog/neighbor/[insert your very own personal annoyance here].

(Just trying to offer some assistance, and a rocking tune; violence is never the answer.)

As it goes, I frequently have an internal chuckle when I cross paths with some loco who very, very deeply believes he is the God of know how. Get a grip my friend. The likelihood of right and wrong being what it may, is not very likely. I could be very wrong in this very right I've just exclaimed. But whatever the case may be, I am a firm believer in staying true to yourself. If this little dilemma can be figured out in this lifetime, you've won, and could potentially, be the only one right discovered here on this fickle Earth.

Life's Equation

True to self + Openness to others = Right of discovery

(FYI, you've just experienced a tangent.) This stream of consciousness has allowed for a 'shift' sooner than I had anticipated. As promised, more relationship spiels to come.

Goonies and a warm cozy fire.

Both comfort and stability are severely underrated. It's time somebody takes a stand against this backwards sentiment. I have taken it upon myself to give these two fine specimens a five star rating.

Comfort & Stability: "*****" Deb to the Izzle, October 1, 2008.

There, it's official.

Take for example, a favorite pair of jeans, or the same tee you keep coming back to, or the old hometown memories that shift back into view from time to time. These things provide a certain level of comfort for the average person. I personally find comfort and stability in my daily, mundane routines. Brushing my teeth, is a good start. How could I walk out the door in the morning having not scrubbed the enamel and tongue decay before attempting to start out my day? Impossible. My cup o' joe is also an essential. If not, a three-time-a-day essential. My route to work is comfortable. My tunes in the car are stable, perhaps too stable, as I often find myself listening to one track one time too many.

My family, too, provide a high level of stability, albeit dysfunctional, that I could never live without. They're my hunger and source for real connection. A comfort unlike any other. Friendships do the same for me, and I'm thankful for the stable advice they've often giving me over the years. Whether I take it, is another issue altogether. But ya know, the comfort and stability thing can be a bit tricky, as well. As we all get tired of the same old thing, do we not? Out with the old and in with the new mentality. And I am the first to say, trying new things and taking on exciting risks is the way to live life. The only way to live life, in my humble opinion, of course. But this does not mean we have to forget or deny the value that comfort brings. We should, in fact, take more time to be grateful for the consistencies in our lives. Whether that's in an old friend, the perfect converse fit, a boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse, and/or in the laughter and innocence of a grandchild, nephew or niece. Just to name a small few...

It's these things, and many more, that truly bring joy and satisfaction to our lives. Sometimes they appear small and mundane even, but it's the contrary my friends. Yes, the unknown or the seemingly unreachable or unpredictable, appear better than, or perhaps, more adventurous than our current office view. But perhaps, adventure is, just perhaps, a little overrated.

Smile at the simple; Tis a good life defined. And remember, Goonies never say die.

Inhale inheritance, exhale extravagance.

Tradition is generally a good thing in my book. I almost believe in certain role playing when it comes to the male/female species (feminazis, take a breather and relax.) But when it comes to dating, or initiating an encounter, I have a little trouble with how my role is to successfully play itself out. I'm definitely, what I would call, too cool for words, which is a problematic problem to have. Sometimes I try to 'cool' the coolness down, for my own good, but find the diluting of cool-drip counterproductive. All the same, my uber-off-the-radar cool factor often gets in the way of reality. Because let's face it, when shit hits the fan, we're all pretty damn nerdy. The skills we front, the false bravado we exclaim, is deep down, the most inauthentic way to live (side note: if you are in fact a seeker of self-actualization, Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs should help you along this road; assuming you have your basic needs met. If you're reading this via your own personal pc/mac, it's a safe bet you have food, water, and air entering your lungage. Move on up the pyramid, and exhale.)

That being said, I'm not going to be cool anymore. Hence, I'm welcoming myself into the 21st Century, although I am still mindful of what my father has told me time and again, "Deb, if a fella is interested, he'll let you know it." I'm also well aware that in addition to the cool that spews through my pores, I can, and do exude an added intimidation-I-don't-need-you-in-my-life persona to many a-men. Or so I've been told I do this, and I've been told one too many times. This ridiculousness has got to stop.

Digging my feet in the ground, I'm at a "now what?" point in the road, which reminds me of a few lines from my favorite Robert Frost poem, The Road Not Taken,

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

For me, the road less traveled will mean I let go of my deep-rooted personal social norms, specifically, when it comes to dating and men. The traditional roles of men and women in our world, not the 1960's folks, but in today's game, have changed somewhat. As it goes, I'm going to roll with the times, or at the very least, try my best. Even though, traditionally, men do the approaching and do the initial phone calling business, it's the women that in all actuality, rein 'em in. So here goes, I can rein 'em in, and I shall rein 'em in! No more cool. No more intimidation.

Dad, I'm still sticking to tradition, but having a little fun with it.

Oh yes son I'm talking to you.

The list of old (must be/have/or just must):

1. Character (of the quality kind)
2. Intelligent
3. Shower...daily
4. Looks
5. Shoes (Should be at the top of the list. For those who know me, know this.)
6. Integrity
7. Sporty
8. A listener
9. Genuine
10. J-O-B
11. Considerate
12. Chivalrous
13. Tall
14. Great cologne
15. Sense of style
16. Candor
17. Reflective
18. Passionate
19. Polite
20. Charismatic
21. Wise
22. Strong
23. Sensible
24. Sensitive
25. A traveler
26. Romantic
27. Charitable
28. Perceptive
29. Empathic
30. Good laugh
31. Nice smile
32. Man's man
33. Sensitive
34. Kind eyes
35. Great shoes (refer to #5)
36. Smell nice (refer to #3 and #14)
37. Insightful
38. Courteous
39. Tender
40. I don't want no scrub. Period.

The list of new:

1. (The lyrical genius recorded circa 1999 by TLC, "No Scrubs," says it best.)
2. That, and (See 1 through 40 in previous list.)

Just say it.

I found myself in a precarious position this past weekend. I seem to manage to do this quite frequently. So it's no longer an awkward or uncomfortable place for me anymore. I've learned to embrace my inability for censorship. I'd like to think I'm just a master of fluidity. Unfortunately, the victims of my mastery probably don't feel at ease with my self-proclaimed supremacy in this area. My response: Deal with it. Or ignore it. Or please, feel free to tell me like it is, if need be. Which segways me into my point. (Mind you, tangents are a regular part of my communication. Without it, I'd be coined mute.)

A week ago, I was seriously, and rather harshly, put in my place by a guy, of whom I barely know. We were out with a group of mutual friends, and he straight out, called me on my 'inappropriate' sarcasm. Thing is, he didn't recognize that my sarcastic response was said in jest. As it goes, his response to me was not said in jest. Basically, he ranted on about how he didn't appreciate my comments, and he believed I was just being "cocky" and in the future, it's best not to say things in a manner that will piss him off.

Wow dude. Seriously, relax. But even though a big part of me was shocked and annoyed with his off-the-wall interpretation of my previous remarks, there was the bigger part of me that genuinely appreciated his feedback. Because how many people are honest and to the point these days? Not many.

Amazingly enough, I end up in the same venue this past weekend with Mr. Honesty. I have to say, we've found a common ground and are in pretty good terms at this point. We've since had a laugh or two over our original encounter. But, and naturally, our candidness remains on a continuum.

Upon his arrival, Mr. Honesty somehow manages to corner me onto a couch (refrain from dirty thoughts) and a lengthy conversation ensues. I really can't recall the nature of how he smoothly transitioned us into this unfortunate situation, but he did. And let me point out, I am not into this dude. I am, however, beginning to think he's into me. Eff! We eventually get into a discussion about dating & relationships, and I manage to get the cajones to let him know that I could potentially be interested in another person across the room.

Can you say shock! Well, say it. Because it's true. Mr. Honesty is in complete disbelief that I've disregarded his 'come ons' altogether and let him into a world that is generally not shared with men who are, shall we say, a practical stranger, and one who has expressed interest. You want to guess what he had to say about my diarrhea of the mouth? I'll spare you the suspense:

"Um, okay. Did you just tell me you have interest in "him"? Are we not having good conversation right now? I really thought we were hitting it off. Wow. I've never met anybody like you before. Aren't we hitting it off?"

Me: "Sorry."

I was essentially rendered speechless. Oh hell! (Why, why why exactly? (FYI, one of my very favorite FOTC lyrics!)) Really though, how and why do these things happen to me? Probably because I really do "just say it." If you can't stand the heat bitches....!

Here's the positive, he now knows I'm not interested in him.

Now about that guy from across the room.

To be continued....