More Things I've Learned Along the Way

I haven't been able to write for a really long time.

I'm trying to take active control of my career recently (maybe 5 years too late) and I've found myself seated before a lot of very wise people and I've learned a few things:

• You can't be true to yourself if you don't know who you are. You can't take the reins if you don't know where you're going.
• I'm getting pretty good at failing. One person called it maturity. I don't know that I'm any more mature, but I guess that is something you don't see from the inside. 
• Loving what you do is not enough. You also have to find that thing that you bring to the table that people value you for. The sweet spot is finding the intersection between the two. Then go a step outside that to make sure you're always stretching yourself, always learning. 
• You MUST keep learning. Stagnation is death.
• Being comfortable is dangerous.
• Every risk should be calculated. I'm not saying don't take big risks, just understand the repercussions of every action and their impact on you. Make informed decisions based on that. 

I'm sure I have many other lessons that I should write down because I think of this entire missive as something I will look back and read later and remind myself how far I've come (or encourage someone else) so I'll try to come back and write them down as I go along.

On (physical) Perfection.

I am that girl you want close to you on your wedding.

I spot every out of place hair and every stray thread. I notice that your arm looks misshapen at just that angle or that particular pose highlights a little bulge. I am also that girl you hate to critique you. I will find every extraneous piece of language, every misspelt word or incorrect grammar. And I will let you know in a bid to help you fix it (since I am incapable of shutting up and I wish people would do the same for me).

This doesn't mean I don't see beauty everywhere I go. I just can immediately highlight ways to make things more perfect at least to the naked eye.

Being this way can sometimes be hard. As great as I think I am (call this pompous if you want, but if you don't think you're awesome, you should work on that) I can see every thing about you and me that is not perfect in a very logical and removed way. The sad part of this is the idea that all these things about me need to be fixed before I can be loved (which is daft and ridiculous and was disproved for two and a half years personally).

I've recently been around and seen a lot of pictures of imperfect people being loved perfectly and after I spot everything that could have been fixed, I stop and see that there truly are no conditions to this love.

It's hard to feel beautiful when you see imperfection. And it's hard to believe people when they see beautiful when you see imperfection. But sometimes, you see people seeing beauty in others because love covers a multitude of sins and that makes me hopeful.

From a comment on "You Should Date an Illiterate Girl"

By LUCKYLEWY

In response to Charles Warnke. I told you to expect it.

Never date a guy who is broke. Meet him at the wrong time. Meet him in beautiful weather, preferably outside. Meet him when you are both interested in someone else. Add him on Facebook when you see his name pop up on the side of your page. Let him amaze you with his witty messages. Flirt. Don’t think about it too much.

Let him accept your request, months later. Talk until the sun comes out and the birds begin their song. Laugh at his jokes. Let him laugh at yours. Go into deep discussion about things like Penguins and Boxes.

Go to New York for the festive month. Let him want you. Go for a different guy. Come back to your warm state and continue the long giggly chats. Fall. Fall fast. Initiate a book club. Read Orwell.
Don’t finish the last chapter where she gets eaten alive by rats.

Go to New York in the bitter winter. Find out that he is at a lounge which serves tea. Go. Make long and intense eye contact. Look away.
It’s raining. Walk outside to fetch the car. Let him walk with you. Talk about the book.

Lead him into a room. Serve him fancy shaped ice cubes. Tell him he smells good. Fall. Embrace the silence. The dammed beautiful silence.
Let him help you prepare for an interview. Let him teach you Chapter 23. Thank him. Laugh with him when the interviewer was a complete nut.

Let him take you out for a coffee. Talk. Smile. Let him gaze into the depths of your soul. Let him fall. Let him wince in pain from “food poisoning.” Let him put his arm around you. Let him hold your hand.
Let him make historical dates and facts about the churches and buildings you pass. Laugh at him. Admire him.
When you get home and he doesn’t call or text, be hurt. Be hurt for the very first time. Want him. When you see a virtual note, describing all he feels in riddles and puns, know it’s about you. Smile. Continue talking, continue falling.

Go over seas with your family. Realize you miss talking to him. He misses you.

Make plans to be in his state for the summer. Let him take you “somewhere special” the first night you get there. Let him hold your hand. Walk around lost for an hour. Ask random strangers for useless
directions. Stumble to that special place. Breathe. Sit. Talk. Fall.
Let it rain. Let your hair frizz. Let your fucking makeup drip. You look beautiful. Beautifully in love. Let him lead you to shelter. Let him nervously kiss you for the first time at the top of the court’s steps. Laugh. Continue conversation. Then kiss him back. Fall.

Visit the museum at night. Fall asleep on each other on the eastern
staircase. Let him tell you he loves you in a tired and confused
state. Perk up. Ask him to repeat it. He won’t. Pretend you never
heard it. Lead him back to your closet of a room. Peek into a
forbidden hole. Laugh. Let him cover your mouth from laughing so you
won’t wake them up. Lay your head on his chest. Listen to his
heartbeat. Let him wrap his arms around you. Fall asleep. Wake up the
next morning. Quickly get dressed. Kiss him goodbye . Run down the
stairs. Be late for work.

Get into stupid fights because he wants to eat his cake and have it
too. Ask for closure.

Invite him over for soup. Watch him eat. Plan to watch a movie. Get
into bed. Start watching. Watch him answer his phone. Watch him leave.
Let him go.

While he’s walking you home, spontaneously take his hand and walk down
the subway’s steps. Even if it’s 3am. Take the train. Go anywhere. Let
him lean against a car on Friday night and tell you why you are being
crazy. He will tell you that he does not want to be in a relationship.
Walk away, upset. Let him follow you. Make up. Let him kiss you.

Get into more arguments about closure. Stop fighting, cause you’ll never win.

Let him sail off into the blue horizon. Miss him. Realize. Speculate.

Come back into New York for a few days before embarking on a 4 month
journey. Meet him at the park. Sit on a bench. Talk. Laugh. Smile.
Cry. Lean against the President Street bridge. Let the S train pass
from under you. Receive your first “get a room!” comment. Fall.

Meet him at a sketchy party in the outskirts of the city. Let him snub
off the frenchie that is trying to take you home. Smile. Dance. Meet
him outside. Let him kiss you under the church’s awning. Let him take
your breath away. Let him tell you that you are his world. Believe
him.

Let him give you moldy flowers. Let your heart melt. Let him put a
necklace around your neck. Tell him you love him. Let him kiss you one
last time. Bid adieu.

Go to Israel. Miss him. Arrange skype dates. Talk on the phone for
hours, like there is not 439898 miles between you. Let him tell you he
loves you for the first time.

Come home because you miss him too much. Date him. Accept his 9-12
months proposal. One year. January.

Send your Arab driver to pick him up from Miami. Knock at the door and
let your clothes come off before he even says hello. Breathe him in.
Lay in bed. Let him admire. Go for walks on the boardwalk. Make sure
you stop at the Hilton to use the bathroom. Promise that next time we
will bring bathing suits for we are going swimming in the hotel pool.

Drive to Deleon springs. Buy lotto tickets on the way. Tell him you
know you will break up in a year. Watch him wiggle in discomfort in
his seat. Lay on a white sheet under the canopy trees. Eat
strawberries. Love. Walk into an antique shop. Laugh. Suggest Cohens.
Sit at the table closest to the door. Order a hamburger. Stop eating
one bite through because he will not stop staring. Smile. Say “What?”
Let him tell you that he could get used to this. Believe him. Fall.

Take the shuttle with him to the airport. Write letters to each other
before you part. Hold onto him and cry. Cry until there are no tears
left.

Be inseparable. Write. Talk. Laugh. Smile. Skype. Message. Be best friends.

Go to New York. Link arms while walking into OT. Let everyone gawk at
you. You beautiful couple. Let him take you upstairs. Look at the
picture of him as a boy. Kiss him. Go to South street sea port. Hook
up in the Express dressing room. Try on tacky lingerie for him. Let
him take you to an organic cupcake joint. Lick frosting off his mouth.
Laugh. Love. Nervously meet his brother and sister in law. Breathe.
Eat terra chips. Smile. Let them like you.

Introduce him to your parents. Smile when you see them all together.
Let him play with your nieces and talk to your sister and her husband.
Be happy. Think you could so get used to it.

Run your hands through his hair. Let him convince you. Do it. Use candy if it’s bad. See him enjoy. Sin.

Let him see your weaknesses. Cry when things get heavy with mum. Cry
to him. Leave your mark on his white shirt. The shirt you bought him.

Stumble into photo booths every time you see one. Keep them all over
your room as little reminders.

Bring up marriage. Hear him tell you that he is still not ready and
needs time. Tell him you need to be with him. Cry when he doesn’t
understand. Tell him you need to wake up to him. Cry again. Feel your
heart break when he doesn’t budge.

Go to Australia. Hope things will get better. Watch as they get worse.
Try to be happy. Try not to miss him. Be nice. Understand he still
won’t be ready. Feel like shit. Slip away. Let him slip away

Date a guy who will keep you waiting. Date a guy who you love more
than you love anything. Date a guy who can’t drive. But never date a
guy who is broke. Because he knows that less money means more
struggling. And God forbid should one struggle. He will blame
everything on the fact that he is not financially able. He will loose
faith. He will loose you. He lost you.

Cry to him one last time. See how he watches you, unmoved. Unaffected.
Watch him as his smug shoulders shrug, watch him as doesn’t care. Let
him go. Don’t think too much about it.

Don’t think too much about him.

Let him go.

Maybe.

I want to say I feel better, but I think every time I say that something happens. :P

I'm good. Enjoying the company of friends who are checking in a little more often than usual and fronting like they actually want to talk to my boring ass.

Work is hella busy and I'm working on interesting stuff so it's been a blessing. My friends have been kind enough to not leave me alone and drag me around with them, so I think I only feel sad when Pandora or my iPod conspire to remind me that even though love is hard, perseverance exists and you can choose to stick it through and make it work and thats what makes it extra special.

One of my loves gave me something to think about. I think the hardest part for me has been the thought that I had found someone that I was ridiculously compatible with, and in all honesty, I had never met anyone who fit me as well in all my twenty-six years of being and I realize that there are no guarantees that I ever will again. So it hurt that he felt the same way, but was willing to take that chance out of sheer laziness. Also, I know what I want out of a relationship now and, I wont lie, I'm a little scared that I wont ever find someone who finds all my annoyingnesses amusing and loves my uncuteness and finds my knowitallness refreshing.

(Still waiting for what my friend gave me to think about? lol) Aaaaaaanyhooo, I was talking with my friend about this and she said maybe he felt that way about my (perceived) imperfections because he loved me. Not that he loved me because of them. I had to take like 3 days to think about that one.

And maybe she's right.

Maybe someone will fall in love with all the fun energetic life-is-beautiful-first-thing-in-the-morning, ridiculous-amounts-of-useless-information, i'll-try-most-things-once and everything-can-be-laughed-at of me, and because of that still love the I-wear-my-own-hair-and-makeup-is-a-chore-and-my-lips-stay-chapped-ness of me with my i-have-to-have-the-last-word-and-i-am-absolutely-always-right and maybe even not commit suicide at how I have yet to meet my match at stubbornness. And maybe even not care that I don't cook*.

Maybe. :)

*Yes, sharrap, I still maintain that I don't cook. Even if it does seem like every time you call me I'm cooking something new, I am not advertising that, because months hit that I retire from the kitchen.

Love breaks.

And somehow, every time it happens, we're shocked.

You sit there and you think, this is just a rough patch, we love each other, so obviously its going to work out. Then you remember that conversation with your friend where she told you on the phone tearfully, "I just *knew* I'd found my own. I was settled. Done. And then it fell apart." And you realize that now, 3 years later, it didn't magically fix itself. They were perfect for each other (even in their own eyes), yet they aren't together. So you pause on those drastic measures you had in your head of just leaving him with nothing but a note, as the realization dawns that the thought of him tracking you down and standing out in the rain telling you how you complete him might actually happen, but probably won't end with the kiss that says and forgives and erases everything.

And so you watch it break and you can't do a thing about it, and you're pissed off that, as usual, John Mayer put it perfectly. Slow dancing in a burning room. And then you wonder, wouldn't we all just be FINE in love and not make dumb mistakes if we just took a class on "Continuum"?

Happy Valentines week, y'all.

On Love.

This post was inspired by Kate and The Purple One.

Purp wanted to know the difference between loving someone and being in love with them. Kate argued that they didn't have to be mutually exclusive. I dare to argue that you can have both or have either or.

My sister once said to me that she judges love and boyfriends like this. She knows she loves us (her sisters) and would absolutely give a kidney for one of us if we needed it. She knows she loves a boyfriend if she feels like she'd give him a kidney. Tough huh? (She was much more eloquent than this, forgive me).

I think that loving someone can be a decision, even if its not a conscious one. They are a good friend and have shown themselves to be worth the effort of a friendship. Your mother had her after you and therefore she's been there your whole life and you've shared a million memories. You don't really know when you decided to love her, but the day you and your sister get into that fist fight, and then you let her borrow your curling iron an hour later, you realize you love her. You chose at one point in your life to let whatever petty nonsense go and still be there and enjoy her company in spite of who you each are. Loving someone isn't always easy, but it feels good.

Falling in love? LOL. That one is interesting. Because its not always rainbows and butterflies and that giddy,heady feeling. Sometimes it sneaks up on you and develops slowly, simmering like a good pot of soup. I have no butterflies. Don't get me wrong, I think the girls with the butter flies are in love too, I just don't have that feeling. But I do know that he makes me incredibly ridiculously happy. Even when he pisses me off. My heart does not and has never fluttered when he walked into the room or I got a text message from him. But making him happy brings me so much joy, I look for little things, like casually mentioning who scored the goal in the game yesterday like I know and didnt google that it was off-side (and of course he knows me so well that he laughs and says "you googled that, didn't you?"). I know that I feel grateful and blessed, truly blessed to have him in my life, and I am not sure who made a mistake and made him love me back, but I'm going to enjoy it as long as I can before someone corrects the slip up. Falling/being in love is what makes your heart break every time he does something careless or selfish or callous no matter how small, and what stops you from walking out of the door even with your broken heart. It's what makes you take the chance that he can heal whatever hurt.

I do think you can separate falling/being in love and loving someone. I think that being in love is a little insane. I don't dispute that women who shoot men for cheating on them, or men who beat the shit out of women for the same reason are in love. I just don't think they "love" the other person. Love does no harm. When you love someone, you cannot hurt them. But when you are "in love" with someone, you lose a little of your sense, and thats what gets you through fights and hard times at the beginning, thats what stops you from walking out the door on day one, that loss of self-preservation which makes you not want to spend your life away from this person and creates the opportunity for you to learn (or choose) to love them.

I think God gave us that "in love" thing as a way to make it easy to love people. Because you don't HAVE to be with an S/O, it might be really hard to be around her and her bad habits, him and his laziness, or whatever long enough to love them despite their faults. So God blessed us with a (usually) harmless temporary insanity, that keeps us long enough for the choice to love to kick in. Unfortunately, sometimes that temporary insanity is a bit too intense.

Am I just easy?

I have got on a shitload of planes to go visit guys. Guy's I'm friends with, guys I'm "talking to", guys I'm dating, guys I'm in crush with. All of it.

And I've only ever had one dude pay half (and that sure didn't turn out well, but that's a looooong story for another day. Yes, sirree, I paid for all the other tickets myself. Heck , the question didn't even come up about whether or not they'd be paying all or part of my my way. I went out,had fun came back and thought nothing of it....

....Until today when a friend of mine started a facebook discussion on whether or not it meant "He's not that into you" if he didn't offer to pay for at least half your ticket.

Dang.

So according to the first 57 responses, he should offer. (Okay, slight exaggeration. Not all 57 said that. Maybe only 56). And I'm here doing a silent tally in my head wondering "chei, I've wasted how many thousand dollars 'catching trips' " when I shoulda been doing that junk for free!

So my expectation has always been to pay my own way, then maybe pay for one meal before I leave as a "thanks for the hospitality" but sorta assume he'll pay my expenses while I'm there (abeg jo, tickets are expensive, and I AM a guest. But I carry vex money sha. I have definitely encountered the occasional cheapskate).

Is that odd?

Its incredibly hard not to be a know it all when you're always right.

My sitemeter is gone. Aaargh.

Happiness isn't

If only we'd stop trying to be happy we could have a pretty good time. - Edith Wharton

How you Put Yourself out there is How you will be percieved

In summary: If you booty-IM (calling is soooo 2005) people, there is a good chance they will offer to pour liquor on you "like in big -pimpin" (which was quite possibly the most demeaning use of alcohol I've ever seen). Nothing spoil sha. I can't even be insulted. Na me cause am.

In other news, I'm going insane with work. I would like nothing other than to have someone wrap their arms around me while I grab my 3 hours of sleep a night, but apparently that person doesn't exist. Its fooling around or nothing. *smh*

I guess I'll take nothing.

Also, you have too many friends on facebook if you continually have "who the eff is that?" moments when people update pictures.

I miss U.go. Mostly because there are 800 million pictures of him on facebook having a blast without me. Hair appointment in the morning. Alleluia.

I wonder if warm body still reads this. I don't think I care. I want to get a little more explicit (by explicit I mean detailed, you filthy minds) but I have no clue how many people actually know me. I ain't trynna do a Ms.Annabella repeat.

Damn. I just put myself out there.

Waiting on the World to Change

Man is a credulous animal, and must believe something; in the absence of good grounds for belief, he will be satisfied with bad ones. - Bertrand Russell