What Every Woman Should Have

This morning, over my morning cup of coffee, I was reminiscing about my high school best friend.  When we were seniors in high school, she gave me a special book that I still have. It had the following poem, entitled, "What Every Woman Should Have."

What Every Woman Should Have:

One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to
And one who reminds you of how far you've come.

Enough money within your control to move out and rent a place of your own 
even if you never want to or need to
 
Something perfect to wear if the employer or date of your dreams
wants to see you
in an hour.

A purse, a suitcase, and an umbrella you're not ashamed to be seen carrying
 
A youth your content to leave behind
A past juicy enough that you're  looking forward to retelling it in your old age

The realization that you are going to have an old age
and some money set aside to help fund it
 
A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra

One friend who always makes you laugh
And one who lets you cry
A good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family
 
Eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a
meal that will make your guests feel honored
A resume that is not even the slightest bit padded

A feeling of control over your destiny

A skin care regime, an exercise routine, 
And a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life
that don't get better

A solid start on: a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship,
And all those other facets of life
that DO get better
Every Woman Should Know:

How to fall in love without losing yourself

How you feel about having kids

How to quit a job, break up with a lover, and confront a friend without ruing the friendship

When to try harder,
And when to walk away

How to kiss a man in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn't like to happen
next.

How to ask for what you want in a way that makes it most likely you'll get it

How to have a good time at a party you'd never choose to attend
That you can't change the width of your hips, the length of your calves,
or the nature of your parents
That your childhood may not have been perfect,
but its over.
 
What you would and wouldn't do for love 
or money .

How to live alone,
even if you don't like it
Who you can trust,
Who you can't,
And why you shouldn't take it personally
Where to go - be it to your best friend's kitchen table
or a charming inn hidden in the woods,
when your soul needs soothing
 
What you can and can't accomplish in a day,
a month, and a year

Why they say life begins,
Right now. 


My, how far I have come since I received that special book with that special poem. My friend's message to me in the front of the book says that no matter where life takes her, her life is better having had me as a friend. Here I am 12 years later, appreciating her words, and understanding more than ever the poem she gave to me. Did she know something at 18 that I didn't? I'm not sure. Nonetheless, her friendship was a big part of setting me on the road to becoming the woman I am today. 12 years later, her photo sits by my bedside reminding me that the most important thing every woman should have is a friend. 

Burning House

I know this entry is not about romantic love. But it is about love nonetheless. I have been wanting to write about my dog, Howard. I had to let him go a few months ago. It still feels like yesterday. I still cry several times a week over him. He was one of the loves of my life. 

My idea of love was nothing more than love being that of a burning house. No matter what the circumstance, the moment you love, the moment you are doomed for heartbreak. I can love someone a lifetime, and at the end of the day, I will part with that person if not by life's circumstance, death's.

And so it was with Howard. He was my first rescue dog. He lived 9 years in a puppy mill before he came to me. He ate, slept, defecated, and everything else in a small cage. He was only taken out of the cage to breed. When he came to me, he was scared and skinny, and the sweetest thing I had ever seen. I loved him before I even met him, in spite of not being the playful rambunctious Boston Terrier I was expecting.

And as I start to examine the dog he was and how much I loved him, I ponder the reason pets have such a special place in our hearts. They are these beings who teach us to love in such a pure way, in a way we seem to be unable to love others. Howard didn't try to hide who he was or cover up his love for me. He was never prideful in his love, but fiercely strived to protect me. And in turn, I loved him unashamedly. Everyone who knew me, knew how much I loved Howard. Making him smile was one of the most amazing feelings I have ever had. It was the truest smile I have ever seen from an animal. I look back on my life and can't say I have ever managed to love a person the way I loved him - so outlandishly, giving him more kisses and hugs and 'I love you's' and care than I have given anyone.

I made the call and scheduled the appointment a week in advance. That week was hell. Looking back on it now, I got to make the moments with him during that week count. But the truth is, it could never have been enough. I would still be wishing for more time. It seemed as if I could literally feel the seconds, minutes, hours, days slip away. I made sure to hold him every night and soak in his gentle presence. The night before he died, I bathed him and clipped his nails. I cleaned his ears and gave him a special meal. I rushed home from work the next day and held him until the vets came. He was asleep before they even gave him the injection. He left quickly and was just as gentle leaving this world as he was during his life. They say that people act in life is magnified in death. Howard's gentleness was magnified in that moment. 

Afterwards, I sat a few moments alone with him. I couldn't say much. I couldn't let the flood of tears and sadness wash over me with 3 veternarians in the front yard and 2 additional dogs going crazy in the backyard. My mother never raised me to ignore guests. I got a couple of minutes, however. I went to smell his paw one last time. I don't know why, but I loved to smell his paw. His scent was always comforting to me, and it was gone. Forever. It smelled like the most nothing one can imagine. He really was gone. The house was indeed burning and wouldn't stop until it was burned to the ground.

I know I did the right thing. It makes my body physically ache when I think about the pain he went through. I had to keep holding on in hopes that he would come back to me, but he was so tired of suffering. It was hard because I knew that I was signing up for sorrow to enter my heart and not leave for quite some time. It's such a helpless feeling knowing that there is nothing you can do but let go. I just have to keep telling myself that I did the right thing. I keep waiting for that fact to become stronger than my sorrow.

In the meantime, I have been challenged to love others the way I loved him: outlandishly, openly, honestly, responsibly. When I do that, I know it keeps his memory alive and makes his life count. His love changed my life. It might sound silly to say about a dog. But do you love others the way you love your own pet? 

Love is indeed a burning house. You'll never walk away from it with anything other than heartbreak. It might be tomorrow. It might be when you're 80. Either way, no one walks away un-singed. 

I think about the moment I woke up the morning Howard was scheduled to go. He had slept in his same spot, and we had the same morning routine as always. Before getting out of bed that morning, I took a moment to snuggle with him one last time. He always smelled a certain way after sleeping. I breathed in that smell one last time. It comforts me to know that I had that precious moment. I managed to block out the reality that he was leaving me and that I was running late for work to take in that moment, to appreciate the light shining through the window, his chainsaw snoring, and his peaceful smile. I remember that moment so vividly. Everything. I'm telling you, Howard was worth every burn from that burning house. You see an old red Boston Terrier named Howard Lee taught me to see that light coming through the windows, see the beauty of the flames, and to stop and smell Howard in the burning house. 

*I adopted Howard from MidAmerica Boston Terrier Rescue. They are a dog rescue organization committed to rehabilitating and rescuing Boston Terriers and Boston Terrier Mixes. Please visit their website at www.adoptaboston.com or check out their facebook page to find out more.

Mediocre

I'm just going to admit it. I don't do anything exceptionally well. I am incredibly mediocre. I have average looks, average smarts, average ideas, average health, average ambition, and little-to-no athletic ability. That is probably the thing I hate the most about myself. (Other than the fact that i talk too much, especially when I'm nervous)
Even in my job I am surrounded by these people who are incredibly driven. They work crazy hours, and do crazy things to exceed their goals. I have recently had to admit that I am just not driven in the same way my coworkers are. They work crazy hours, winning contests which consist of making the most phone calls, or talking to the most people, some even compromising their ethics. I am driven, but not to the extent that I care to win contests or play with work politics. It's hard to say that out loud and not feel like a mediocre piece of shit.

But I have this one thing to hold onto that's worth being driven and ravenous about. The boyfriend. I finally found someone who is worth writing about. And damnit, I'm going to love him exceptionally well. I refuse to be mediocre about this. I refuse. 

Is that enough? To be exceptional about this one thing? I think so. My mediocre brain seems to be fine with it. And I think that if I do this one thing well, I will have the jealousy of the world. Because they are exceptional. They have brilliant ideas, and drop-dead looks, and are top performers in their jobs. But lack this one thing. Exceptional love. and I've got it!

Hindsight

I know that I haven't spoken much about this on my blog, but I have to let you all know: I believe in G-d. I have a relationship with G-d that has grown and changed and had it's ups and downs over the years. I am saying this so you know a little bit of the lens through which I look at my life. I have grown to trust G-d with a lot of aspects of my life. I can say that dating has been probably the hardest thing to trust him with. It seems like every time I try to place that aspect of my life in his hands, I take it back and want to do it my way. After all, we are taught to believe that success is driven by the work of our own hands.

Finding a man with a similar faith used to be important to me. It has been an obstacle in previous relationships. However, as I've gotten older and more desperate, I have cared less and less about sharing the same faith with potential suitors. Instead, I just focused on finding someone I could put up with. Recently, I dated someone and felt G-d pressing me to break off a relationship for multiple reasons, but faith was the final nail in the proverbial coffin. The prompting felt strange to me because I will admit, my relationship with G-d had grown stale and strained. So the feeling that G-d was telling me to do something was rather odd and out of the blue.

Shortly thereafter, I went on a date with a gentleman and had a great time. The next day he flew to Missouri for a month-long business trip. I didn't have high hopes, but left it at that. We spoke on the phone more and more and found hours slipping away carelessly. He was making me laugh. He was a great listener, and genuinely seemed interested in me.

Subsequently, I hurried home to Florida for the funeral of the pastor that mentored me and encouraged my teenage relationship with G-d. I was saddened by the loss and knew I needed to be apart of the celebration of his life. Because everything happened so quickly, I did not have much of a chance to reflect and didn't realize it had been so long since I had been home. When I touched down and let the humidity rush across my skin I was brought back to the world of my youth. Where had the time gone? Had it really be 10 years since I lived here? It was overwhelming to see the gathering of so many people from my past in one place. I was definitely there for the celebration of life for a pastor I held so dear, but it seemed that there was more than that going on for me.I was spinning in memories and people of my past. It seemed like I had lived so many lifetimes up to that point.

After the service, I met up with a boyfriend from my teenage life that I was positive (at the time) I would marry. (I thought that in high school) Not much seemed to change from the outside. He still made me laugh like he used to. I felt comfortable and at ease around him. I could picture my life with him in that moment. We left the restaurant. I drove my way. He drove his way.

I saw several other boyfriends over the course of that weekend. And each one was great to see and talk about life and the good ol' days when we were young and carefree. Before life had taken its turns and choices were made and our separate ways we went.

Strangely, I even got a call from a boyfriend not from Florida, but somehow gave me a call from very far away (Korea) because he said his curiosity had gotten the best of him. I had been his first love. We had a tumultuous three years of a lot of back and forth. Our final phone call and final goodbye is burned into my memory. I can't remember a more difficult goodbye. Shortly thereafter, he met the woman who would become his wife. He now has 2 children and works as a pilot in the military. After the conversation was over and we said our goodbyes, I kept waiting for tears to come. I kept waiting for the wave of emotion to hit me. It never came. I expected to cry as I lamented over love lost. But I didn't. I kept waiting for the tears to come, but they never did.

At the service, I saw the people who had mentored me all in one place honoring a great man. I had a moment where I looked around and thought 'so this is who I am.' These people. Their prayers. Their encouragement. Their time. They were a huge cornerstone in the foundation of who I am. It seemed I had forgotten all of that. I began to think back. As I hugged my old youth pastor, I remembered my young heart. I remember his wisdom, his love and care he had for each person he led. I remembered a girl who was fearless and passionate. I just could not deny the impact each person played in my life. And it was because of them, that I was able to hear the voice of G-d calling me to Colorado where I have since made myself a great life.

Regardless of the years I have spent away from all of those people, they had made an impact that is even still being revealed. Even though they are far away,

As for each of the boyfriends, surprisingly, I walked away feeling like everyone and everything was as it should be in my life. I used to be so scared to let people go. Scared that I would miss out on something great. How could I let go of the people who have a piece of my heart and are so deeply rooted in my past? I don't think I have let go of them. They are all special treasures in my life, but for the first time I felt peace with the different roads we have all taken.

It was clear to me that G-d was orchestrating this in preparation of something. Even since I have returned there have been other situations that have allowed loose ends with romantic relationships to be tied up.

Over the course of these months, I have gotten to know the man on the month-long business trip in spite of being far away. We have spent hours talking about who we are: where we have come from and where we want to go. He has a great family. He's super smart. He can imitate anyone's voice. My favorite is his Kermit the Frog impersonation. He's nerdy and most likely thinks he's a superhero. I have learned that his smile brings me so much joy. He's a great listener still. He has shown me a great deal of patience and love. He could be friends with anyone from my past and present. In my mind's eye, I picture him being friends with each ex and having been mentored by the same mentors I have had...in an alternate universe sort of way. 

I don't know if this relationship is what G-d was preparing me for when he drug out the barrage of past relationships. But I know I'm ready to walk down the road and find out.

Rainbows

And then all of a sudden love walks in, walks right over to the table you've been sitting at and sits down next to you. You. Of all the people, in all of the places, in all of time, love walks up to you, sits down at your table and says "take a walk with me". You say "ok".

That's how I feel. 

And in that moment everything fades. The men of the past. The friend who left you high and dry. The stressful job. The dirty house. The laundry lists.

Life, instead, slows down into moments, laughs, inside jokes, plans, hopes, dreams, smiles. 

You only want to hear love songs and good news and sunshine. 

It all becomes clear, what they were all talking about:

About how you will know the right one when it comes along, it will happen when you least expect it, it will be better than you could have imagined, it was worth the wait, etc. etc. etc..

Yep. That's me. I'm there. Rainbows, butterflies, unicorns, fields of daisies blah blah blah. 

It's kind of like a heart attack. the best kind of heart attack without the big bloody mess. 

Did I mention the rainbows?

I do not have an STD

I have been meaning to share this crazy story of mine for a few weeks now.

Some of you that see me regularly know this story, so I apologize for the redundancy. I thought I should document just a piece of the ridiculousness that is my life:

Most of you that know me know that I have the sense of humor of a 12-year old boy. As the Chinese fortune cookie said to me once, "As one knows less and less about life, one learns to live it more and more." I can say similar things about my sense of humor. It has degenerated to the lowest forms of humor, most of which 12-year old boys find funny along with other degenerates like me. This has come into stark contrast with my search for adulthood and maturity. Oh well...

With that being said, my favorite vein of jokes recently has been pertaining to STDs. I know some of you are squinting your eyes and making a face thinking, "STD's are no laughing matter." You have a point. And when someone chose my joke as an opportunity google photos of STDs, I saw the light. However, for 2015, this has been my go-to joke for just about any situation. There might have even been several of those jokes said at work and church and at the doctor's office.

I digress...

Several weeks ago, I was at a concert festival with some friends. We were getting a steady bombardment of gentleman giving us attention. One in particular was a youngin'. Way too young for me. Still, he confidently walked right up to me and started grabbing my butt while talking to our group. I was a little shocked by his aggressive nature. I gave him a look and asked him how old he was. He said it was his 21st birthday. A milestone. To celebrate, I reached into my boot and pulled out one of the shots I snuck in and jammed it in his hand.

Then I looked at him and told him I had Aids. Straight-faced. Aids. Sad to say, I was saying that to randos all night. My friend kept telling me that was a totally inappropriate joke to say to strangers, and everyone else too. I laughed it off and thought anyone who took me seriously had to be crazy. (It's not me. It's them.) I just didn't know a nice way of saying that I wasn't interested. I said the first thing that popped into my mind. Who can blame me? (I can't)

Let's switch gears

So earlier this year, I dated a guy for about a month or so. After about a month of seeing him, he began to pressure me to pursue a more physical relationship. Due to timing and interest level, I held off. I had just returned from being out of town and had to work in Denver the day I returned to work. That day, he summoned me and requested that I sleep over at his house. Because it was a Tuesday night and I wouldn't be ending my work day until late, I told him I couldn't do it. He then suggested moving the sleepover to my house.

My house was an absolute disaster from the whirlwhind of traveling. I said 'no' again. He immediately texted me back and said, "We should not see each other anymore." I sent him a frowny(frownie?) face and moved on. I didn't put a lot of brain power into why. Se la vie.

So several months later, I find myself at a bar with some friends when I spot him. (His nickname was Vince Vaughn) I approach him and say hi. Nothing wrong with that. 

After chatting for several minutes he looks at me and says, "You know why I broke up with you?"
"You made so many herpes jokes, then wouldn't hook up with me; I was convinced you had herpes."

It was truly one of those moments that my life flashed before my eyes. I remembered all the STD jokes I made on first dates, all of the jokes I passively made around friends, siblings, bosses, coworkers, doctors, psychiatrists... And then it all became clear to me.

This is why I'm single. 

He just doesn't love me

There is a common thought that has been running through my mind lately. I guess the thought really hit me late last year, but I guess I subconsiously knew that I needed to revisit the idea.

Last year I was in Cancun for my friend's wedding. I used the time away to reflect on a wide variety of relationships in my life. At that time, life had become so busy that I had not taken the time to process my heart breaks from the year. Unfortunately, I have to say "heart breaks"...plural. Not just from my dating life but from a variety of relationships within my family, friendships, and a couple of romantic relationships/

As I began to reflect, I realized that I kept going back to the same people, chasing after them in hopes that they would one day figure out that they loved me. 

And it hit me, painfully. They don't love me. I replayed that over and over in my head. I wasn't trying to convince myself. I just needed it to sink in. It was such a simple truth, but one I had not considered.

Yes relationships can be complicated. But at the end of the day if that person isn't who you need them to be, they probably never will be. If they don't love you by now, they probably never will. And there is no amount of nice words, fun times, or pursuing that will ever change that fact. 

Right then and there I realized I needed to move on. It wasn't sad. It was empowering. Truth is always empowering. When I let go of that hope, I could move on with my life and place my energy in to pursuing better things, things and relationships that would give back to me what I gave them. It seemed like a strange paradox to say that giving up hope actually made me more hopeful. But I had placed my hope in the past things, when my future is where I needed to focus.

Now here I am 9 months later needing, again, to realize that I have allowed certain people to hold my attention and take my energy. But the simple truth is they do not give a shit about me. It's as true as it has ever been. They just don't love me. I love them. They don't love me. They are just using me like a toy for entertainment and validation. They are using me at my expense because I let them. Because I hoped that if they use me enough, they will fall in love. Does that logic make any sense?

I remember when I was a teenager I would borrow my sister's clothes constantly. She hated it because I would just leave her clothes laying around or sprawled all over her bed after each wear. I definitely didn't treat her clothes as well as my own. And now I'm the one being left laying around after each use to be forgotten and only remembered when they have nothing else to preoccupy their minds.

Again, I feel empowered by letting go of hope. Because I know I am doing the right thing for myself.