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.