Life's little twists and turns don't follow a specified recipe. I'm definitely okay with instability, amidst daily comforts, of course. This little bloggy is a firm example of random-ness. Truth defined by yours truly. Enjoy, or not, a peek into skewed opinions and spurts of subpar brilliance.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

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.

Friday, November 21, 2008

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.

Monday, November 10, 2008

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


Friday, November 7, 2008

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.

Monday, November 3, 2008

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.