Because she knew she could finally close her eHarmony account.
Relationships are hard, but dating is even harder, especially in a city like DC. Sometimes I think the initials stand for Douche Central. Since I wasn’t meeting anyone at the places I frequent most often, (i.e. design industry events, the treadmill at WSC and my sofa), I decided that I needed to start up this on-line dating thing again. I tried it out a few years ago and seeing that I’m still single you know that it proved unsuccessful. I realized that I must be a masochist to voluntarily put myself through such psychological torment over and over again. Do you want to know the one positive about being on any type of dating site? You have great stories for your friends, especially the married ones. My single friend described it perfectly the other night when out for drinks with a mutual friend. She walked into the bar and said she had a dating story for us, my friend said, “Oh, I love dating stories!” My single friend replied, “of course you do, you’re married!”
The problem with on-line dating is that we expect to feel the instant click that you get from meeting someone in person just by glancing over his or her profile. I know that’s not what the idea is behind it, but in a society that promotes instant gratification, if we don’t see something we like, we just keep looking. Trust me, I’m guilty of this as much as the next guy or girl. If I see something whacky I hit, “Archive Match”, at least that’s the eHarmony, (eH), approach. Ok, I’m lying. When I see, (and believe me it’s often), something strange on eH, I usually sit there with my mouth open and say to myself, “Are you serious?” I wish there was a way I could go through my matches live via a webcast because I guarantee everyone watching it would have a new appreciation for the partner in their life.
One of my biggest complaints on eH is with the photos. Guys need some help when it comes to finding the right shots. To support this point I’ve compiled my top ten pet peeves for photos, and yes, these are all based on real experiences:
1. How old is this picture exactly?
If the photo is grainy or you don’t have any wrinkles in it or suddenly you have a full head of hair, it may be a touch too old for putting on your profile. If the year portion on the date stamp starts with a “19-something” I’m thinking that you need to take some self portraits or find a guy on the metro and ask them to take a photo of you.
2. So you like to scuba dive?
I’m not sure what happens to guys in their early 30’s but something clicks inside of them and they all want to be a scuba diver. Maybe it’s the female equivalent of wanting to be a mom? Suddenly there is an urge, a burning desire to put on a wetsuit, learn to breathe through your mouth and take lots and lot of underwater photos. The best photos are taken about 20 feet away in very murky water surrounded by lots of friends. (Read Sarcasm) I like to run, but there’s no way in hell I’m posting a picture of me sucking wind as I cross the finish line of a race, not to mention how I look in my running clothes. You Mr. Scuba Diver, are wet, wearing tight fitting clothing that makes you look like Ken Barbie below the waste, and, the best part: YOU’RE WEARING A SCUBA MASK!!!! Maybe we should just stick to the written description and say, “I enjoy scuba diving.” I trust you. The same applies for the tool that showed me a photo of his kayak, without him in it. It was just sitting there on the dock. For all I know this kayak was at some random state park and he took a picture of it. That’s like me taking a photo of my sneakers so you know I like to run.
3. Ok, so which row are you in?
Here’s a good rule of thumb, if you have to give me instructions on where to find you in the photo, (i.e. Third row back, 14th from left), there may be too many people in the shot. And yes, this applies to the all too famous, white water rafting group photo. Don’t even bother telling me where you’re sitting in that damn raft; with those bright orange helmets on you all look alike!
4. Wait a minute, I just paid $40 and now I need to “request your photo?”
Just put a freakin’ photo up already, you don’t have to have 20, but at least have two or three. Don’t make me have to do another request to get the completed profile, that’s just being a tease. That’s like you asking for my number and me giving you everything but the last 4 digits and saying, email me for them. And for the record, every guy that does this is a big freaking DAWG. You made me wait for this? It’s like waiting for Michael Myers to take his mask off; you know it’s not going to be pretty.
5. Great, so you’ve been to Egypt.
Everyone LOVES to travel. That’s wonderful, so do I. But, I’m not going to post random photos of The Pyramids or say the Tower of Pisa or the Arc de Triomphe that do not include me in the photo, and then put them on my profile. If I wanted to see what the Pantheon looked like, I could Google it, for free.
6. So, I see you’ve got a cat.
And apparently he loves to watch the sunset from the penthouse apartment you used to have when you lived in Chicago 5 years ago. Why are you wasting my time by posting the most boring photo EVER on eH? I’ll be honest, not a cat person, the fact that your cat, (I don’t even know if this cat made the move from Chicago or not?), is watching the sunset from your fancy apartment that overlooks Michigan Avenue is just plain ridiculous. Show me something I want to see, like a picture of you!
7. Costumes/Wigs/Winter Ski Jackets w/Goggles & Motorcycle Helmets?
Halloween comes once a year. Unless you dress up on a weekly basis there is no need for me to see what you look like with a wig on. I would never post the photos of me in my Mrs. Brady wig. Those are funny at least. The skiing pictures should really be taken after the last run of the day when your jacket, goggles, hat and facemask have been removed. As for the motorcycle shots, can I get one where you’re not in motion and creating a big huge blur with a helmet on top?
8. Is that really another thumbs up?
If you’re going to post three photos, two of them shouldn’t be of you giving the thumbs up with both hands. Do you really do that pose frequently? You shouldn’t.
9. Are you expecting me to wear the pants?
I get it that you’re trying to show me your softer side, but the photo of you smelling the tulip, close up, with your eyes closed, isn’t what I’m looking for at this stage in my life. I’m terrified of spiders so you need to be somewhat manly.
10. And the best for last…..Bathroom shots are not funny, period.
According to one of my matches, he was being “crazy”, I call it being disgusting. He sent me the front of his holiday card from last year. It was three photos of him and his bathroom routine: one in the tub, one shaving in the mirror, and, yes, you know what I’m going to say, one on the TOILET, boxers to the floor and all. I don’t want to see anyone going to the bathroom, let alone some random stranger that I have never met. More tulip photos please!
And that’s just with the photos. There is also the plethora of material that comes across in written communication and then who knows what will happen when you actually meet face to face. One of the dates I recently went on didn’t want to put his Express down until I was completed situated at the bar, coat off, drink ordered before he began the conversation. Another date was so engrossed with his phone and texting that I tried to make light of it and said…
“Hey, we have the same phone”
eH Douche while texting: “Oh, really? And what would that be?”
I just squinted and tilted my head until he put his “Droid” down and realized how much of an idiot he sounded like by asking me that question. This was the same guy that informed me he’d been living in DC for over 18 months and had never stepped foot into a museum. I asked if he had been to the monuments at least and he said he had seen the Washington Monument. I told him there were a “few others” down there, too. (How can you have lived in DC and never stepped foot into a museum? Museums are what we do best.) It was shortly after that response that I blurted out, “well it’s been nice chatting with you but I really have to get to abs class.” I wanted to add, “Oh, and by the way, if you’re 5 foot 10, then I’m 6 foot 2!” I’m wearing flats and just shy of 5 foot 7, if you’re 5 foot 10, then using “new math”, I should be looking UP to you, not DOWN! You false advertised your “product” pal. The bill of goods you're trying to deliver is not being accepted at this address; please return to sender.
As I said, dating is challenging and it takes a thick skin, plus lots of patience. I realize there are going to be some “boring questions” that we have to work through, (yes, someone told me I was asking boring questions), but that’s how we learn about each other and establish common ground. But even after you establish that common ground, sometimes there’s just nothing left that is intriguing. That’s not to say the person isn’t nice or good looking or smart, there just isn’t a “spark”. When I’m chatting with someone on a date, at some point during the conversation I ask myself one of two questions. If the date is going well, I ask myself, “I wonder what it would be like to kiss this guy?”
If the date is going poorly I ask myself, “I wonder if my friends are still going to be out after this wraps up?”
And that's my social research in a nutshell. I’m sure there will be more stories in the future. Until then I’ll keep looking for Mr. Right Now and you can keep laughing.
Romantic love is mental illness. But it's a pleasurable one. It's a drug. It distorts reality, and that's the point of it. It would be impossible to fall in love with someone that you really saw.
-Fran Lebowitz
I used to think those people who sat alone at Starbucks writing on their laptops were pretentious posers. Now I know: They are people who have recently moved in with someone.
-Carrie Bradshaw, Sex in the City
Whenever I want a really nice meal, I start dating again.
-Susan Healy
Never date a woman whose father calls her ‘Princess.’ Chances are she believes it.
-Anonymous
You see, this evening has been a series of bad choices combined with big expectations on my part and very poor manners paired with an enormous ego on your part. If I look at each element of disappointment individually none of them serve as deal breakers so to speak, but I’m forced to make a decision based on all evidence that has been presented which leads me to the conclusion that you and I should definitely…definitely not go on another date.
-M. Wilson
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Like Fingerprints On Glass, We All Leave A Mark Behind
Will you laugh with me for a season?
Stand by me for a reason?
Or walk with me for a lifetime?
People come in and out of our lives. Some people are just brief acquaintances, some people are stuck with us because they're family and some people are there for the whole ride no matter what happens to us. I like the above quote because it speaks to how relationships can be both transient and permanent, and every one is a blessing.
A week ago I got a phone call at work from my sister Gaby. I knew something was up as soon as I heard her say, "Hi Marianne". (My sister always calls me "Mar", kind of like how I always call her "Gab".) She quickly informed me that our 4-year-old niece Sophia had passed away. My eyes filled with tears and my chest became so tight that I thought I was going to pass out right there in my cube. Over my shoulder I could hear two co-workers discussing a set of drawings and revisions and on the other side of my workstation wall I could hear a project manager getting angry with someone on the phone. And there I was sitting in the middle of both trivial conversations getting news that a life had just ended.
The next few hours were filled with phone calls to family members. A plan was put together to get home and on Saturday I headed north to NY. Along the way I had lots of time to think. My thoughts kept going to Sophia and to my sister Bobbe. Sophia was Bobbe's second daughter and 8th child, her youngest. I knew how sad I felt and I was only Sophia's aunt, I couldn't imagine how my sister must have felt though. Having no children I haven't experienced that type of love. Everyone I know that has kids says the same thing, "you'll never love anything the way you love your children". I believe it without a doubt even though I can't feel it.
I'll never forget the look on my sister's face when I saw her for the first time. It was such a look of emptiness and sadness. I hugged her. I hugged her and told her how sorry I was. We sat and chatted. I let her do most of the talking and I did the one thing I knew I could do, I listened. I listened to her tell stories about Sophia, her routine with her, what she liked to do, where she liked to sit and how she spent her days.
You see my niece Sophia wasn't like most 4 year olds. In fact throughout her whole life and even after she passed into the next one, she remained a medical mystery. Sophia could not see, hear, walk or talk. She was never formally diagnosed with any known disease. She had been evaluated by numerous doctors and specialists and had undergone genetic testing but nothing was ever concluded as to why Sophia wouldn't grow.
It's hard not to question things after an experience like this. Often after something traumatic we find ourselves asking God, "why me?" Though I never heard my sister specifically say this, I'm sure she was asking questions and wanting answers. That's what any parent would do in that situation. I found myself wishing I had an answer for her and her husband. I wish I had the magic words to say that would make them feel better; but I didn't.
When I got back to DC I met up with my girlfriend Marie for drinks. I told her about Sophia. She patiently listened to me tell her story. She then told me a story about a family member and her own personal tragedy that she experienced. At the end she said something very profound to me. She explained that maybe Sophia had done what she needed to do on Earth and her work here was done, like that of an angel. God needed her back and it was time for her to move on and help someone else. That message resonated with me on many levels and made me think of the quote at the beginning.
My sister always referred to Sophia as an angel. Her middle name was Faith and I think that's why she came into all of our lives. I wasn't around her on a daily or even monthly basis but I'm sure my other nieces and nephews as well as my sister and brother-in-law probably gained so many things from living with her. Maybe now they're still discovering all of the gifts she brought them in return for all of the love of they gave to her.
When I think of Sophia I smile. I know she is in a better place and she isn't suffering. I think she is doing all of the things that she wasn't able to do here. I can see her running, laughing and skipping. I think she's happy and healthy. I think this because I have faith.
Though her time with us was short, Sophia's fingerprints left a mark on all of our hearts that will never fade. She was only here for a season but her spirit will stay with us for a lifetime.
Sending stars and smiles to Sophia from her aunt in DC.
Tiny Angels
Tiny Angels rest your wings
Sit with me for a while.
How I long to hold your hand,
And see your tender smile.
Tiny Angel, look at me,
I want this image clear....
That I will forget your precious face
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny Angel can you tell me,
Why you have gone away?
You weren't here for very long....
Why is it, you couldn't stay?
Tiny Angel shook his head,
"These things I do not know....
But I do know that you love me,
And that I love you so".
-Author Unknown
The Cord
We are connected,
My child and I, by
An invisible cord
Not seen by the eye.
It's not like the cord
That connects us 'til birth
This cord can't been seen
By any on Earth.
This cord does its work
Right from the start.
It binds us together
Attached to my heart.
I know that it's there
Though no one can see
The invisible cord
From my child to me.
The strength of this cord
Is hard to describe.
It can't be destroyed
It can't be denied.
It's stronger than any cord
Man could create
It withstands the test
Can hold any weight.
And though you are gone,
Though you're not here with me,
The cord is still there
But no one can see.
It pulls at my heart
I am bruised...I am sore,
But this cord is my lifeline
As never before.
I am thankful that God
Connects us this way
A mother and child
Death can't take it away!
-Author Unknown
"Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp because dawn has come."
--Rabindranath Tagore
Stand by me for a reason?
Or walk with me for a lifetime?
People come in and out of our lives. Some people are just brief acquaintances, some people are stuck with us because they're family and some people are there for the whole ride no matter what happens to us. I like the above quote because it speaks to how relationships can be both transient and permanent, and every one is a blessing.
A week ago I got a phone call at work from my sister Gaby. I knew something was up as soon as I heard her say, "Hi Marianne". (My sister always calls me "Mar", kind of like how I always call her "Gab".) She quickly informed me that our 4-year-old niece Sophia had passed away. My eyes filled with tears and my chest became so tight that I thought I was going to pass out right there in my cube. Over my shoulder I could hear two co-workers discussing a set of drawings and revisions and on the other side of my workstation wall I could hear a project manager getting angry with someone on the phone. And there I was sitting in the middle of both trivial conversations getting news that a life had just ended.
The next few hours were filled with phone calls to family members. A plan was put together to get home and on Saturday I headed north to NY. Along the way I had lots of time to think. My thoughts kept going to Sophia and to my sister Bobbe. Sophia was Bobbe's second daughter and 8th child, her youngest. I knew how sad I felt and I was only Sophia's aunt, I couldn't imagine how my sister must have felt though. Having no children I haven't experienced that type of love. Everyone I know that has kids says the same thing, "you'll never love anything the way you love your children". I believe it without a doubt even though I can't feel it.
I'll never forget the look on my sister's face when I saw her for the first time. It was such a look of emptiness and sadness. I hugged her. I hugged her and told her how sorry I was. We sat and chatted. I let her do most of the talking and I did the one thing I knew I could do, I listened. I listened to her tell stories about Sophia, her routine with her, what she liked to do, where she liked to sit and how she spent her days.
You see my niece Sophia wasn't like most 4 year olds. In fact throughout her whole life and even after she passed into the next one, she remained a medical mystery. Sophia could not see, hear, walk or talk. She was never formally diagnosed with any known disease. She had been evaluated by numerous doctors and specialists and had undergone genetic testing but nothing was ever concluded as to why Sophia wouldn't grow.
It's hard not to question things after an experience like this. Often after something traumatic we find ourselves asking God, "why me?" Though I never heard my sister specifically say this, I'm sure she was asking questions and wanting answers. That's what any parent would do in that situation. I found myself wishing I had an answer for her and her husband. I wish I had the magic words to say that would make them feel better; but I didn't.
When I got back to DC I met up with my girlfriend Marie for drinks. I told her about Sophia. She patiently listened to me tell her story. She then told me a story about a family member and her own personal tragedy that she experienced. At the end she said something very profound to me. She explained that maybe Sophia had done what she needed to do on Earth and her work here was done, like that of an angel. God needed her back and it was time for her to move on and help someone else. That message resonated with me on many levels and made me think of the quote at the beginning.
My sister always referred to Sophia as an angel. Her middle name was Faith and I think that's why she came into all of our lives. I wasn't around her on a daily or even monthly basis but I'm sure my other nieces and nephews as well as my sister and brother-in-law probably gained so many things from living with her. Maybe now they're still discovering all of the gifts she brought them in return for all of the love of they gave to her.
When I think of Sophia I smile. I know she is in a better place and she isn't suffering. I think she is doing all of the things that she wasn't able to do here. I can see her running, laughing and skipping. I think she's happy and healthy. I think this because I have faith.
Though her time with us was short, Sophia's fingerprints left a mark on all of our hearts that will never fade. She was only here for a season but her spirit will stay with us for a lifetime.
Sending stars and smiles to Sophia from her aunt in DC.
Tiny Angels
Tiny Angels rest your wings
Sit with me for a while.
How I long to hold your hand,
And see your tender smile.
Tiny Angel, look at me,
I want this image clear....
That I will forget your precious face
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny Angel can you tell me,
Why you have gone away?
You weren't here for very long....
Why is it, you couldn't stay?
Tiny Angel shook his head,
"These things I do not know....
But I do know that you love me,
And that I love you so".
-Author Unknown
The Cord
We are connected,
My child and I, by
An invisible cord
Not seen by the eye.
It's not like the cord
That connects us 'til birth
This cord can't been seen
By any on Earth.
This cord does its work
Right from the start.
It binds us together
Attached to my heart.
I know that it's there
Though no one can see
The invisible cord
From my child to me.
The strength of this cord
Is hard to describe.
It can't be destroyed
It can't be denied.
It's stronger than any cord
Man could create
It withstands the test
Can hold any weight.
And though you are gone,
Though you're not here with me,
The cord is still there
But no one can see.
It pulls at my heart
I am bruised...I am sore,
But this cord is my lifeline
As never before.
I am thankful that God
Connects us this way
A mother and child
Death can't take it away!
-Author Unknown
"Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp because dawn has come."
--Rabindranath Tagore
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Zero to Sixty in 60
A day like today doesn't come around often. Sunshine and Seventy-Two degrees on a Sunday afternoon in October. This meant taking advantage of the day with an afternoon run. iPod on shuffle and laces tied I headed out on my usual route through Rock Creek. As I quieted my mind to focus on the week ahead I found myself bouncing from emotion to emotion with every few yards I stepped. I'm sure this is what happens to a lot of people when they walk, run or bike. You get distracted by the people you see or the scenery that you pass. Today was exceptionally distracting. For a run that was only 59 minutes, I felt that I had moments of happiness, anger and everything in between...
A moment of light: The idea to go out on a run and take in some fresh air and sunshine.
A moment of curiosity: I found myself in back of this girl who was going a similar pace as me but about 25 yards ahead. She turned right and I had no idea where she was heading, I was going straight. But then 5 minutes later, she's right back in front of me again. How she'd do that and will she show me her shortcut?
A moment of awe: Running towards the zoo I pass by the cutest King Charles Spaniel. I swear to you this dog was smiling ear to ear. It greeted me with such a happy face that I returned the smile and told the owner, "cute dog!"
A moment of ow!: I stepped on a huge rock that was laying on the path. That mother hurt!
A moment of beauty: The sun was shining, the wind was blowing, the orange and yellow leaves were falling and for a few sacred seconds I was all by myself. I celebrated the silence and turned my music off.
A moment of rage: Rude bikers drive me crazy! They are a dime a dozen in Rock Creek. Out of nowhere a bike riding dbag suddenly appeared. He heads straight towards me at a Tour de France speed as he passed another runner on the left. I had to move off the path or get a face full of dbag sweat and rubber. I was beyond pissed. Had he not been going so fast I would have tracked him down and made his face a potpourri of autumn leaves, dirt and asphalt. Clearly this guy was confusing the two big wheels in between his legs for a real set that should have been in his bike shorts. If there wasn't children around I would've yelled, "Why don't you pick up a set of balls the next time you're at the bike shop, douche!"
A moment of nostalgia: Music is powerful because in one second it can change your mind and your mood. Thankfully the next song that came on my iPod was The Cure's, "Just like Heaven" and I forgot about the close call with the dbag. Happy again.
A moment of vom: Someone dropped a dog pick up bag while on their walk. The funny part is that it was clearly run over by a bike, (I'm hoping the dbag one that ran me off the road). The gross part is the path of filth and stench it left behind. Luckily I dodged it in time.
A moment of deja vu: I realize parents have a challenge when teaching their children to ride a bike without training wheels for assistance. But something tells me that the uneven, narrow, rocky pathways in Rock Creek are not the most optimal places for instruction. Before I knew it there was a little boy heading straight towards me as he precariously tilted from side to side on his bike. I graciously moved over to give him the room he needed. Then started looking for the target that must have been placed on my running shirt.
A moment of vom part deux: Young couple in love holding hands. As I approach them from behind they stop short and kiss right in front of me. I know holding hands is cute, but his constant grabbing her ass was not.
A moment of escaping death: I realize chipmunks and squirrels are not the most intelligent of animals but their decision making skills are seriously impaired. Maybe it's the nuts they eat in the Creek? I see a chipmunk. The chipmunk sees me, I swear it saw me. It moves to the right. I keep running full speed ahead. The chipmunk decides he needs to get that one last acorn sitting in the middle of the path and darts out in front of me at the last second. I yelled, "Oh No!", as I felt the sole of my Mizuno skim his little chipmunk head. If he didn't suffer from cardiac arrest after seeing my shoe moving like a missile towards him then he certainly is suffering from a major headache right now.
A moment of digging down deep: At the end of every run I climb up a big hill on Tilden. My goal is to get up the hill without having to stop. Today was going to be tough I could tell.
A moment of inspiration: I think everyone needs a song they can listen to when they really need to push themselves physically. I have many songs that inspire me but today I played Michael Jackson's, "Man in the Mirror". I love that song! It kept me moving and thinking of other things besides the big hill I was climbing. I especially love the choir part. If you ever find yourself having to "climb a hill" this is the perfect song to play. I guarantee you will get to the top.
A moment of appreciation: As I got to the top of Tilden and Connecticut I took a minute to reflect on my accomplishment. I believe in celebrating the small successes in life as well as the big ones. It sounds relatively minor, especially considering the number of people who were running marathons this weekend. Still it felt good to get to the top and see that I completed my run in under 60 minutes. I appreciate the moments of rage as well as the moments of happiness that a run brings to my life. I think about how a year ago I probably wouldn't have been able to get up that hill due to my back surgery. Over a year has gone by and I'm slowly chipping away at getting back to the runner I used to be.
Until then, I'm going to celebrate the minor obstacles I conquer. I'm also going to count my blessings for being able to continue doing something that I truly enjoy. We have no idea where this path in life is going to take us but it's important to appreciate the cute dogs, the love birds, the falling leaves, a sunny day and a sweaty run while we can. I hope everyone who is reading this blog did just that today and has their own moments to remember and appreciate as well.
A moment of light: The idea to go out on a run and take in some fresh air and sunshine.
A moment of curiosity: I found myself in back of this girl who was going a similar pace as me but about 25 yards ahead. She turned right and I had no idea where she was heading, I was going straight. But then 5 minutes later, she's right back in front of me again. How she'd do that and will she show me her shortcut?
A moment of awe: Running towards the zoo I pass by the cutest King Charles Spaniel. I swear to you this dog was smiling ear to ear. It greeted me with such a happy face that I returned the smile and told the owner, "cute dog!"
A moment of ow!: I stepped on a huge rock that was laying on the path. That mother hurt!
A moment of beauty: The sun was shining, the wind was blowing, the orange and yellow leaves were falling and for a few sacred seconds I was all by myself. I celebrated the silence and turned my music off.
A moment of rage: Rude bikers drive me crazy! They are a dime a dozen in Rock Creek. Out of nowhere a bike riding dbag suddenly appeared. He heads straight towards me at a Tour de France speed as he passed another runner on the left. I had to move off the path or get a face full of dbag sweat and rubber. I was beyond pissed. Had he not been going so fast I would have tracked him down and made his face a potpourri of autumn leaves, dirt and asphalt. Clearly this guy was confusing the two big wheels in between his legs for a real set that should have been in his bike shorts. If there wasn't children around I would've yelled, "Why don't you pick up a set of balls the next time you're at the bike shop, douche!"
A moment of nostalgia: Music is powerful because in one second it can change your mind and your mood. Thankfully the next song that came on my iPod was The Cure's, "Just like Heaven" and I forgot about the close call with the dbag. Happy again.
A moment of vom: Someone dropped a dog pick up bag while on their walk. The funny part is that it was clearly run over by a bike, (I'm hoping the dbag one that ran me off the road). The gross part is the path of filth and stench it left behind. Luckily I dodged it in time.
A moment of deja vu: I realize parents have a challenge when teaching their children to ride a bike without training wheels for assistance. But something tells me that the uneven, narrow, rocky pathways in Rock Creek are not the most optimal places for instruction. Before I knew it there was a little boy heading straight towards me as he precariously tilted from side to side on his bike. I graciously moved over to give him the room he needed. Then started looking for the target that must have been placed on my running shirt.
A moment of vom part deux: Young couple in love holding hands. As I approach them from behind they stop short and kiss right in front of me. I know holding hands is cute, but his constant grabbing her ass was not.
A moment of escaping death: I realize chipmunks and squirrels are not the most intelligent of animals but their decision making skills are seriously impaired. Maybe it's the nuts they eat in the Creek? I see a chipmunk. The chipmunk sees me, I swear it saw me. It moves to the right. I keep running full speed ahead. The chipmunk decides he needs to get that one last acorn sitting in the middle of the path and darts out in front of me at the last second. I yelled, "Oh No!", as I felt the sole of my Mizuno skim his little chipmunk head. If he didn't suffer from cardiac arrest after seeing my shoe moving like a missile towards him then he certainly is suffering from a major headache right now.
A moment of digging down deep: At the end of every run I climb up a big hill on Tilden. My goal is to get up the hill without having to stop. Today was going to be tough I could tell.
A moment of inspiration: I think everyone needs a song they can listen to when they really need to push themselves physically. I have many songs that inspire me but today I played Michael Jackson's, "Man in the Mirror". I love that song! It kept me moving and thinking of other things besides the big hill I was climbing. I especially love the choir part. If you ever find yourself having to "climb a hill" this is the perfect song to play. I guarantee you will get to the top.
A moment of appreciation: As I got to the top of Tilden and Connecticut I took a minute to reflect on my accomplishment. I believe in celebrating the small successes in life as well as the big ones. It sounds relatively minor, especially considering the number of people who were running marathons this weekend. Still it felt good to get to the top and see that I completed my run in under 60 minutes. I appreciate the moments of rage as well as the moments of happiness that a run brings to my life. I think about how a year ago I probably wouldn't have been able to get up that hill due to my back surgery. Over a year has gone by and I'm slowly chipping away at getting back to the runner I used to be.
Until then, I'm going to celebrate the minor obstacles I conquer. I'm also going to count my blessings for being able to continue doing something that I truly enjoy. We have no idea where this path in life is going to take us but it's important to appreciate the cute dogs, the love birds, the falling leaves, a sunny day and a sweaty run while we can. I hope everyone who is reading this blog did just that today and has their own moments to remember and appreciate as well.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
What Makes Someone Unforgettable?
The background story:
Abs class. It all started with Abs Class. A 30-minute routine that I had taken to starting this past July. It became part of my schedule each week and with the exception of a few work trips to Boston, I never missed a class. I noticed that it not only strengthened my core but it was also assisting in the efforts behind Operation: Muffin Top Removal.
The first class was memorable. I was the only person who was a newbie. When the instructor walked in I thought, "well, this will definitely help me get my butt to class." He was cute; tall, dark and ethnic. I heard his name once and I remembered it. The class was hard and at the end of it he came up to me and said, "you've been to my class before, right?" I told him that it was my first class but I plan to come back. (I thought it would be pretty obvious that I was the new person as my arms were visibly shaking as I struggled to stay up for the last plank pose. I refuse to quit during any type of group class and it's not because I'm strong, it's because I'm stubborn as hell.) And so my relationship with abs class began.
I would occasionally see the instructor when I worked out on lunch. We would exchange hellos and that was it. Cute guys and lugging heavy things have the same effect on me. Both make me laugh uncontrollably. Hence why I never flirt and I never help friends move. The results have been disastrous and is why I'm single and have friend's with broken knick-knacks.
Flash forward story:
Thursday lunch workout. I had been to abs class on Tuesday night. I had a quick exchange with the instructor at the end of class. I was doing the final set of crunches and suddenly his face appeared hovering over mine. He asked, "Are you staying for kick boxing?" I told him no, I was hitting the treadmill next. He smiled, grabbed the weights that were next to my mat and put them away for me.
I walk in two days later to do a quick workout on lunch. He's at the front desk and says hi to me. Then he follows it with, "I haven't seen you at class in a while?"
Mw: Huh?
Abs Man: You haven't been to class lately.
Mw: I was there last week and just this past Tuesday night, too.
Abs Man: You were?
Mw: Yes, we chatted at the end of class. (Wanting to say: Don't you remember our conversation? You asked if I was staying for kick boxing, I said no, you put my weights away. You were wearing black shorts and a red t-shirt and I had on black shorts and a red tank top, we matched for Pete's sake!)
Abs Man: Huh, that's odd, I totally don't remember seeing you.
Mw: Well I was actually going to tell you after class that you need to make the class harder. I think you were too easy on us this past Tuesday.
Abs Man: Really?
Mw: Yes, I kid you not.
Abs Man: Well, I will definitely work on some new exercises.
Mw: Great! See ya then!
And with that I walked into the locker room. As I ran on the treadmill I was perplexed. I thought I was making some headway here with this guy but in reality I was just another face in the class. I can't blame him though. There's been plenty of people whose names I have forgotten. Conversations and encounters can be very fleeting to one person but seem very personal to another.
There is a reason why we remember some people's names and forget another's as soon as they walk away. What is it about someone that makes them memorable? Is it their appearance? Their eyes, smile, voice? Why do we quickly remember one person but forget their friend next to them? I don't think it can be attributed to a good memory and I'm sure there are different reasons for both men and women. Does it all come down to looks? A great conversation or a good laugh? I'm definitely guilty of forgetting both guys and girls names. There have also been numerous times that I've had to remind people of my name after a third or fourth introduction. Sometimes it doesn't bother me, sometimes, like in the case of the Abs Man, it does.
There are some people who automatically stand out in a crowd, no matter what they do and there are others who, no matter what they do, will always blend in with the crowd. There's a role for everyone, you just need to decide which part you want to play.
Abs class. It all started with Abs Class. A 30-minute routine that I had taken to starting this past July. It became part of my schedule each week and with the exception of a few work trips to Boston, I never missed a class. I noticed that it not only strengthened my core but it was also assisting in the efforts behind Operation: Muffin Top Removal.
The first class was memorable. I was the only person who was a newbie. When the instructor walked in I thought, "well, this will definitely help me get my butt to class." He was cute; tall, dark and ethnic. I heard his name once and I remembered it. The class was hard and at the end of it he came up to me and said, "you've been to my class before, right?" I told him that it was my first class but I plan to come back. (I thought it would be pretty obvious that I was the new person as my arms were visibly shaking as I struggled to stay up for the last plank pose. I refuse to quit during any type of group class and it's not because I'm strong, it's because I'm stubborn as hell.) And so my relationship with abs class began.
I would occasionally see the instructor when I worked out on lunch. We would exchange hellos and that was it. Cute guys and lugging heavy things have the same effect on me. Both make me laugh uncontrollably. Hence why I never flirt and I never help friends move. The results have been disastrous and is why I'm single and have friend's with broken knick-knacks.
Flash forward story:
Thursday lunch workout. I had been to abs class on Tuesday night. I had a quick exchange with the instructor at the end of class. I was doing the final set of crunches and suddenly his face appeared hovering over mine. He asked, "Are you staying for kick boxing?" I told him no, I was hitting the treadmill next. He smiled, grabbed the weights that were next to my mat and put them away for me.
I walk in two days later to do a quick workout on lunch. He's at the front desk and says hi to me. Then he follows it with, "I haven't seen you at class in a while?"
Mw: Huh?
Abs Man: You haven't been to class lately.
Mw: I was there last week and just this past Tuesday night, too.
Abs Man: You were?
Mw: Yes, we chatted at the end of class. (Wanting to say: Don't you remember our conversation? You asked if I was staying for kick boxing, I said no, you put my weights away. You were wearing black shorts and a red t-shirt and I had on black shorts and a red tank top, we matched for Pete's sake!)
Abs Man: Huh, that's odd, I totally don't remember seeing you.
Mw: Well I was actually going to tell you after class that you need to make the class harder. I think you were too easy on us this past Tuesday.
Abs Man: Really?
Mw: Yes, I kid you not.
Abs Man: Well, I will definitely work on some new exercises.
Mw: Great! See ya then!
And with that I walked into the locker room. As I ran on the treadmill I was perplexed. I thought I was making some headway here with this guy but in reality I was just another face in the class. I can't blame him though. There's been plenty of people whose names I have forgotten. Conversations and encounters can be very fleeting to one person but seem very personal to another.
There is a reason why we remember some people's names and forget another's as soon as they walk away. What is it about someone that makes them memorable? Is it their appearance? Their eyes, smile, voice? Why do we quickly remember one person but forget their friend next to them? I don't think it can be attributed to a good memory and I'm sure there are different reasons for both men and women. Does it all come down to looks? A great conversation or a good laugh? I'm definitely guilty of forgetting both guys and girls names. There have also been numerous times that I've had to remind people of my name after a third or fourth introduction. Sometimes it doesn't bother me, sometimes, like in the case of the Abs Man, it does.
There are some people who automatically stand out in a crowd, no matter what they do and there are others who, no matter what they do, will always blend in with the crowd. There's a role for everyone, you just need to decide which part you want to play.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The Beach Hasn't Evolved....and That's Why We Go There
This past weekend I had a very fortunate opportunity. No, I did not go to Chelsea Clinton's wedding. I did something better, I went to the beach. When you live in DC going to the beach is a daunting task. It's not a quick trip down the road or an hour drive away, it's a 3 hour trip...if you're lucky. This time around I was not so lucky with the travel time and averaged about a 5 hour trip there and a 4.50 hour trip on the way back.
But it's worth it.
After a crazy week of working until 11 o'clock four nights in a row it was time to break the routine and escape for a weekend. With sunny skies overhead, a full tank of gas and our beach chairs in the trunk, my girlfriend and I headed to Dewey Beach, DE.
Saturday afternoon was our day in the sun. We set up shop around 12 pm and the plan was to not move until the lifeguards left for the day, (around 5 pm). In between my magazine reading and napping I did one of my most favorite activities, people watching. My eyes danced between groups of families, teenagers, couples and those who were just hanging solo. The beach really is a slice of Americana. If someone from another country visited any beach in the US they would experience all ends of the spectrum when it comes to understanding American people. This is why I love the beach. You will always find the following people on a beach:
1. The perfect family: Mom, Dad, little boy and little girl. All of them dressed very well.
2. The teenage mob: Teens too young to drive but old enough to start trouble and be annoying.
3. The insane family, (usually seated within close proximity to me): Loud, lots of equipment and require a 20' radius to hold all of their stuff. Lots of kids running around, usually a set of grandparents in tow that can't really help watch the kids and just sit in their beach chairs, followed by a very loud mom who usually has a questionable accent which leads to a game of, "what city do you think they're from?"
4. The young couple in love: Gag!
5. The old couple in love: Cute!
6. The odd couple: Woman who refuses to take her shirt and shorts off when going in the water paired with a man who wears way too small swimming trunks and is in need of a back wax. The guy on the beach yesterday looked like he was wearing a vest...backwards.
7. The group of party girls: young, quiet b/c they're hungover, usually have a towel over their heads and a cooler with lots of water.
8. The two guys who are watching the group of party girls above.
9. The super loud, foul mouthed, cigarette smoking, crotch grabbing, white trash group of 20-somethings that of course have to sit right next to me.
10. The two single girls who are taking all of this in: that would be me.
I find the behavior and conversations from these groups of people truly fascinating. In one afternoon I learned so much from all of them just by listening and watching. The white trash group of 20-somethings next to me all live at home. Apparently they do drugs in one of the kids bedrooms when the parents are at home, too. The kid is convinced that his parents have no clue he's doing drugs in his bedroom with his girlfriend, but the girlfriend thinks otherwise. She thinks they are aware of the situation but just pretend to be in the dark.
The group of party girls got a sweet deal on the beach chairs they rented. They ended up getting them all for free b/c one of the girls worked at the chair and umbrella stand a few summers ago. She did it along with running a babysitting enterprise. Yes, she used the phrase enterprise. She would watch like 8 kids at a time and when she was in a pinch she sometime had to ask her friend Erica who didn't like kids and wasn't good at babysitting. But she made enough money in one summer to pay for her tuition for a semester.
The perfect family was just that, perfect. The kids were cute, they didn't talk back and everyone had fun. Maybe it was the margaritas that mom made that kept mom and dad calm and collected the whole day? I know that she made awesome margaritas because she offered me one. I guess I looked thirty? Dad made a kick ass walrus in the sand, too. They looked like they could be on the cover of J.Crew. I liked sitting next to them.
So with all of this craziness that occurs at the beach, why are we drawn to it every summer?
I have the answer to this question: Because it never changes and it never will.
The beach will always be just that, the beach. It will never evolve or become more technologically advanced or sophisticated. You go to the beach once and you've got it figured out. If you hadn't been to the beach in the past 10 years and then decided to go one day you would know exactly what to pack, what to wear and what to expect. That's why we like it, we know what to expect.
With the exception of colors and textiles, very few things have changed for the beach. The beach chair hasn't really changed, nor has the cooler or the beach towel. In fact some of the toys that the J.Crew family was playing with were just like the toys I played with at the beach. A shovel, a pail and one of those starfish molds. Seriously.
I think that's why I like the beach so much. It reminds me of childhood and simpler times. The beach will always be simple. It doesn't matter what your life is like during the week, at some point all of us desire, (and require), some simplicity. A place with no cell phones, laptops or Outlook reminders and the only tweeting you hear is the sound of the lifeguard's whistle telling you it's time to get out of the water.
Summer goes by fast. Enjoy every second of sunshine that falls on your face and return it with a smile.
But it's worth it.
After a crazy week of working until 11 o'clock four nights in a row it was time to break the routine and escape for a weekend. With sunny skies overhead, a full tank of gas and our beach chairs in the trunk, my girlfriend and I headed to Dewey Beach, DE.
Saturday afternoon was our day in the sun. We set up shop around 12 pm and the plan was to not move until the lifeguards left for the day, (around 5 pm). In between my magazine reading and napping I did one of my most favorite activities, people watching. My eyes danced between groups of families, teenagers, couples and those who were just hanging solo. The beach really is a slice of Americana. If someone from another country visited any beach in the US they would experience all ends of the spectrum when it comes to understanding American people. This is why I love the beach. You will always find the following people on a beach:
1. The perfect family: Mom, Dad, little boy and little girl. All of them dressed very well.
2. The teenage mob: Teens too young to drive but old enough to start trouble and be annoying.
3. The insane family, (usually seated within close proximity to me): Loud, lots of equipment and require a 20' radius to hold all of their stuff. Lots of kids running around, usually a set of grandparents in tow that can't really help watch the kids and just sit in their beach chairs, followed by a very loud mom who usually has a questionable accent which leads to a game of, "what city do you think they're from?"
4. The young couple in love: Gag!
5. The old couple in love: Cute!
6. The odd couple: Woman who refuses to take her shirt and shorts off when going in the water paired with a man who wears way too small swimming trunks and is in need of a back wax. The guy on the beach yesterday looked like he was wearing a vest...backwards.
7. The group of party girls: young, quiet b/c they're hungover, usually have a towel over their heads and a cooler with lots of water.
8. The two guys who are watching the group of party girls above.
9. The super loud, foul mouthed, cigarette smoking, crotch grabbing, white trash group of 20-somethings that of course have to sit right next to me.
10. The two single girls who are taking all of this in: that would be me.
I find the behavior and conversations from these groups of people truly fascinating. In one afternoon I learned so much from all of them just by listening and watching. The white trash group of 20-somethings next to me all live at home. Apparently they do drugs in one of the kids bedrooms when the parents are at home, too. The kid is convinced that his parents have no clue he's doing drugs in his bedroom with his girlfriend, but the girlfriend thinks otherwise. She thinks they are aware of the situation but just pretend to be in the dark.
The group of party girls got a sweet deal on the beach chairs they rented. They ended up getting them all for free b/c one of the girls worked at the chair and umbrella stand a few summers ago. She did it along with running a babysitting enterprise. Yes, she used the phrase enterprise. She would watch like 8 kids at a time and when she was in a pinch she sometime had to ask her friend Erica who didn't like kids and wasn't good at babysitting. But she made enough money in one summer to pay for her tuition for a semester.
The perfect family was just that, perfect. The kids were cute, they didn't talk back and everyone had fun. Maybe it was the margaritas that mom made that kept mom and dad calm and collected the whole day? I know that she made awesome margaritas because she offered me one. I guess I looked thirty? Dad made a kick ass walrus in the sand, too. They looked like they could be on the cover of J.Crew. I liked sitting next to them.
So with all of this craziness that occurs at the beach, why are we drawn to it every summer?
I have the answer to this question: Because it never changes and it never will.
The beach will always be just that, the beach. It will never evolve or become more technologically advanced or sophisticated. You go to the beach once and you've got it figured out. If you hadn't been to the beach in the past 10 years and then decided to go one day you would know exactly what to pack, what to wear and what to expect. That's why we like it, we know what to expect.
With the exception of colors and textiles, very few things have changed for the beach. The beach chair hasn't really changed, nor has the cooler or the beach towel. In fact some of the toys that the J.Crew family was playing with were just like the toys I played with at the beach. A shovel, a pail and one of those starfish molds. Seriously.
I think that's why I like the beach so much. It reminds me of childhood and simpler times. The beach will always be simple. It doesn't matter what your life is like during the week, at some point all of us desire, (and require), some simplicity. A place with no cell phones, laptops or Outlook reminders and the only tweeting you hear is the sound of the lifeguard's whistle telling you it's time to get out of the water.
Summer goes by fast. Enjoy every second of sunshine that falls on your face and return it with a smile.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Keep Your Mitts off my Condiments!
I knew I wasn't going crazy...nor was I consuming an alarming amount of salad dressing. I just couldn't understand why I was going through a bottle of salad dressing faster at work then I was at my own apartment. I knew I was on the cusp of discovering the culprit. Day after day I would walk into the pantry at work and smell my Italian dressing. Only, I didn't use it that day at lunch....so who was using it?
I know I shouldn't get wrapped up in a $3 bottle of dressing, but when you think about it, what this person was doing, or rather, what my own co-worker was doing, was downright rude. We work together for cryin' out loud! Why would you help yourself to your co-workers belongings just because they are stored in a shared refrigerator? And to continuously do it over and over again is just beyond unacceptable to me.
I quietly came around the corner today and low and behold I caught the guy! (Yes, it was a guy, too.) I startled him, he made a weird face, and then suddenly tossed something into the fridge and bolted. It wasn't until a short while later that I realized why he looked so guilty....he was the Salad Dressing Hoarder!
So, to you, Dressing Hoarder, be fair warned!
I've got my eye on you. I will be watching every move you make when you enter that pantry from this point forward. You who can't even say hello to me in the morning when I say, "Good Morning!", or even bother to exchange a smile when I pass you in the hall. I have done nothing to you but only treated you with the common respect that I would want from my co-workers.
You're cheap to not buy your own.
You're lazy for not walking to the corner of the next block and buying one at CVS.
I don't want any excuses either that you're not from around here b/c look buddy, I live in DC, for all I'm concerned, I'm not from around Clarendon, either. I still figured out the joint and where to get my Starbucks, my Zone Bars and yes, my salad dressing. And claiming ignorance will get you no where fast, too. As instructed on our fridge, I used one of the pre-printed labels and filled it out with my last name and the date. Do not even tell me you don't know who, WILSON, is! I haven't taken my, "Welcome Aboard Marianne Wilson", sign from last October so come up with another excuse.
Until then, keep your chubby, greasy, architect-paws off my dressin' or else I'll have no other choice but to resort to some creative aggression in a culinary outlet.
Just sayin'...
I know I shouldn't get wrapped up in a $3 bottle of dressing, but when you think about it, what this person was doing, or rather, what my own co-worker was doing, was downright rude. We work together for cryin' out loud! Why would you help yourself to your co-workers belongings just because they are stored in a shared refrigerator? And to continuously do it over and over again is just beyond unacceptable to me.
I quietly came around the corner today and low and behold I caught the guy! (Yes, it was a guy, too.) I startled him, he made a weird face, and then suddenly tossed something into the fridge and bolted. It wasn't until a short while later that I realized why he looked so guilty....he was the Salad Dressing Hoarder!
So, to you, Dressing Hoarder, be fair warned!
I've got my eye on you. I will be watching every move you make when you enter that pantry from this point forward. You who can't even say hello to me in the morning when I say, "Good Morning!", or even bother to exchange a smile when I pass you in the hall. I have done nothing to you but only treated you with the common respect that I would want from my co-workers.
You're cheap to not buy your own.
You're lazy for not walking to the corner of the next block and buying one at CVS.
I don't want any excuses either that you're not from around here b/c look buddy, I live in DC, for all I'm concerned, I'm not from around Clarendon, either. I still figured out the joint and where to get my Starbucks, my Zone Bars and yes, my salad dressing. And claiming ignorance will get you no where fast, too. As instructed on our fridge, I used one of the pre-printed labels and filled it out with my last name and the date. Do not even tell me you don't know who, WILSON, is! I haven't taken my, "Welcome Aboard Marianne Wilson", sign from last October so come up with another excuse.
Until then, keep your chubby, greasy, architect-paws off my dressin' or else I'll have no other choice but to resort to some creative aggression in a culinary outlet.
Just sayin'...
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Excuse Me, Is That Your Bag....of Weed?
The key to keeping a dirty little secret? Keeping it a secret.
The day started off like every other, I woke up to a symphony of sounds from my neighbors upstairs and an aroma that makes me think someone is cooking something with dirty hands. An hour later I exit the lair, (on the lookout for spiders while climbing my steps to the outside), and begin my commute.
I get on the metro at Cleveland Park and miraculously find a seat amongst the sea of tourists who are all riled up to go photograph the hell out of the cherry blossoms. The train gets crowded at the next stop and a guy in front of me had to step in closer to make room. I immediately start scoping him out, not because he was attractive, but because he was an absolute mess. The picture perfect definition of disheveled. Hair a mess, shirt wrinkled and button crooked, belt askew, bag open and over one shoulder with shoes untied.
Let's go back to the bag. The bag was open which I always find fascinating because you're either asking someone to pick pocket you or in my case, blog about you. The contents of this bag I found mesmerizing. This is what I saw: 2 mechanical pencils, one black pen, a pack of gum, lots of gum wrappers, a lighter, what looked to be a plane ticket, loose business cards, a black notebook, an iPod, some dollar bills and the icing on the cake which prompted an immediate text to my sister, A BAG OF WEED.
You want to know why people get busted for weed? Because they get stoned then go out in public with their bag of weed hanging out for everyone to see on the metro. Now some of you are probably saying that I was being nosey for looking so closely at the contents and I disagree. My attention to detail was analytical research for the purposes of writing this blog with the hopes of entertaining those who read it. If this is not entertaining then consider it a "Lessons Learned" so to speak. When I saw that he was also carrying a Starbucks I began to stress. Just how many hits off the bong had this guy taken before getting on the train? The quantity could cross the threshold between whether or not I would be accessorizing my shirt with a Venti Latte (Non Fat) or not. (Yes, I actually looked at the code on the side of cup to see what he was drinking.) Luckily he got off at Farragut North without a spill.
Go through my work day: email, email, email, CAD, CAD, CAD, copy paste, copy paste, copy paste.
Leave gym and begin commute home. I arrive at Metro Center and see I have 4 minutes to kill before my train. I go to the end of the platform and pull out the blackberry to begin my texting commute. The guy on my right is in a full blown conversation on the phone about what type of meat he is going to have when he gets home. The details of his barbeque/honey mustard/horseradish experiment sounded like a hot mess to me. But before I could be further grossed out by his grill talk, I overhear something even more disturbing from the couple on my left.
I'll try describing the voice to you first. Picture a girl talking to a cute little fluffy dog. Their voice will get all high-pitched and sing-songy. Now if you're talking to a dog, that's OK. But when you're speaking to a person, you're a grown man and you're saying:
I'M GONNA HIT YOUR BUTT. OH, I'M GONNA HIT YOUR BUTT! OH, I JUST HIT IT!
It's not OK.
In fact it's disturbing. My head did a Linda Blair and spun so fast to the left that I heard something crack. I just scrunched my eyebrows together, opened my mouth as if to say something, (but didn't know what to say), and quickly shook my head as if trying to shake the visual from my brain like an Etchasketch.
And he fully went through with his promise, too. There he stood, spanking his girlfriend's ass right in front of me and Grill Master Bob to my right.
I'm still not sure why he thought this was a logical way to pass the time on the platform. I started staring at the red lights hoping they would blink and take me out of this "tunnel of love". When the train arrived I waited to see which car they got in and went the other direction.
Your dirty little secrets and your dirty talk is all good and fun. I have nothing against either but just not in public. I think it's more about being so careless when you're out in full view of the world with actions/habits that are extremely private. You never know who you could run into....your boss....your Mother....or even worse, a girl who writes about crazy people she sees on the metro. ;)
Remember, trains move!
The metro chimes a little PSA that says, "Excuse me is that your bag?" And it reminds people to take their stuff and pick up after themselves before exiting the train. They may need to alter that to...."Excuse me, is that your bag of weed on the floor?"
Do you have a dirty little secret? Good, keep it to yourself and it will remain that way forever.
The day started off like every other, I woke up to a symphony of sounds from my neighbors upstairs and an aroma that makes me think someone is cooking something with dirty hands. An hour later I exit the lair, (on the lookout for spiders while climbing my steps to the outside), and begin my commute.
I get on the metro at Cleveland Park and miraculously find a seat amongst the sea of tourists who are all riled up to go photograph the hell out of the cherry blossoms. The train gets crowded at the next stop and a guy in front of me had to step in closer to make room. I immediately start scoping him out, not because he was attractive, but because he was an absolute mess. The picture perfect definition of disheveled. Hair a mess, shirt wrinkled and button crooked, belt askew, bag open and over one shoulder with shoes untied.
Let's go back to the bag. The bag was open which I always find fascinating because you're either asking someone to pick pocket you or in my case, blog about you. The contents of this bag I found mesmerizing. This is what I saw: 2 mechanical pencils, one black pen, a pack of gum, lots of gum wrappers, a lighter, what looked to be a plane ticket, loose business cards, a black notebook, an iPod, some dollar bills and the icing on the cake which prompted an immediate text to my sister, A BAG OF WEED.
You want to know why people get busted for weed? Because they get stoned then go out in public with their bag of weed hanging out for everyone to see on the metro. Now some of you are probably saying that I was being nosey for looking so closely at the contents and I disagree. My attention to detail was analytical research for the purposes of writing this blog with the hopes of entertaining those who read it. If this is not entertaining then consider it a "Lessons Learned" so to speak. When I saw that he was also carrying a Starbucks I began to stress. Just how many hits off the bong had this guy taken before getting on the train? The quantity could cross the threshold between whether or not I would be accessorizing my shirt with a Venti Latte (Non Fat) or not. (Yes, I actually looked at the code on the side of cup to see what he was drinking.) Luckily he got off at Farragut North without a spill.
Go through my work day: email, email, email, CAD, CAD, CAD, copy paste, copy paste, copy paste.
Leave gym and begin commute home. I arrive at Metro Center and see I have 4 minutes to kill before my train. I go to the end of the platform and pull out the blackberry to begin my texting commute. The guy on my right is in a full blown conversation on the phone about what type of meat he is going to have when he gets home. The details of his barbeque/honey mustard/horseradish experiment sounded like a hot mess to me. But before I could be further grossed out by his grill talk, I overhear something even more disturbing from the couple on my left.
I'll try describing the voice to you first. Picture a girl talking to a cute little fluffy dog. Their voice will get all high-pitched and sing-songy. Now if you're talking to a dog, that's OK. But when you're speaking to a person, you're a grown man and you're saying:
I'M GONNA HIT YOUR BUTT. OH, I'M GONNA HIT YOUR BUTT! OH, I JUST HIT IT!
It's not OK.
In fact it's disturbing. My head did a Linda Blair and spun so fast to the left that I heard something crack. I just scrunched my eyebrows together, opened my mouth as if to say something, (but didn't know what to say), and quickly shook my head as if trying to shake the visual from my brain like an Etchasketch.
And he fully went through with his promise, too. There he stood, spanking his girlfriend's ass right in front of me and Grill Master Bob to my right.
I'm still not sure why he thought this was a logical way to pass the time on the platform. I started staring at the red lights hoping they would blink and take me out of this "tunnel of love". When the train arrived I waited to see which car they got in and went the other direction.
Your dirty little secrets and your dirty talk is all good and fun. I have nothing against either but just not in public. I think it's more about being so careless when you're out in full view of the world with actions/habits that are extremely private. You never know who you could run into....your boss....your Mother....or even worse, a girl who writes about crazy people she sees on the metro. ;)
Remember, trains move!
The metro chimes a little PSA that says, "Excuse me is that your bag?" And it reminds people to take their stuff and pick up after themselves before exiting the train. They may need to alter that to...."Excuse me, is that your bag of weed on the floor?"
Do you have a dirty little secret? Good, keep it to yourself and it will remain that way forever.
Friday, March 12, 2010
A Life Without Passion
"Enthusiasm is one of the most powerful engines of success. When you do a thing, do it with all your might. Put your whole soul into it. Stamp it with your own personality. Be active, be energetic and faithful, and you will accomplish your object. Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm."
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
Has anyone ever asked you what your passion was? And if so, did you have an answer, a real answer?
I think all of us have a "passion" for something but sadly I don't think everyone discovers what their passion is in life. It's easy to see how that can happen, too. Life is busy. Work, Family, Gym, Friends, Social Commitments, Social Activities, Errands, Facebook...the list goes on and on. We have so many things competing for our time and energy.
I like to think of our energy supply as an organic mass. This mass has a known quantity. Which means someday our energy will run out when we leave the earth. All of us will die one day and with that our mass of energy will have run out. If someone gave you a calendar for all of the days you have left in this world, say a calendar that had the next 40 years lined out for you, would you change the course of your activity on a daily basis? Would you fret over the small stuff, like a clean house? Essentially that is what our life is only no one has given us the calendar. When you think of it that way, why would you ever waste one month, one week or one year not doing what truly makes us happy? This isn't to say we can't be sad or angry or jealous, those emotions are essential to life, too. But it is to say, why do we waste so much time on the fluff?
When someone gives a eulogy at a funeral they are usually one of the people closest to the deceased. That person has the honor and the duty of being the last individual to ever speak on this person's behalf. Have you ever thought about who would give your own eulogy? Or one step further, what would that person say about you? We take time to fill out on-line dating applications that make us answer questions like, what three words would your friends use to describe you? But have we ever sat back and looked at their answers in order to understand how we are perceived from the outside? We hope that they use good words. We hope that the person giving our eulogy says nice, honest and truthful things. (I can't say I've ever been to a funeral where they didn't say nice things.) You hope that those closest to you, who really know you, know what you're passionate about.
So why do we waste so much time on the fluff if we know our calendar has a limited number of days? Why do we get worked up over details that will have no consequence in the future or on someone's view of us? No one started a eulogy with, "Wanda was a really nice person. She had a really clean house, drove a really nice car and her bathroom had a huge marble tub. And her china, well it was just beautiful and her silver was always polished perfectly. Oh, and in the summer we all go out on her boat, she has a great party boat!"
Why don't you hear these things in a eulogy? Because they don't matter; they're fluff. None of the stuff we surround ourself with can go with us nor does it define us. And if you're friends ever use those phrases to describe you, then you should really evaluate the relationship because they don't know you, just your stuff. What does matter is how you treat people and how you treat yourself. People may forget your words but they never forget your actions. Did you help your friends out when they needed it? Did you support family who were going through tough times? Did you take care of your family? Did you give yourself solely for the benefit of another without any alterior motive? Did you take care of yourself? Were you a happy person?
Did you find your passion?
Life gets swept up by the constant "to do" list. Finding your passion should never be on that list.
I hope that if there is one trait people will remember me by it is that I'm genuine. Sincerity is one of the most important qualities in a person. Always knowing what is real in life, what is important and what really matters, can never be underestimated.
Work Hard/Play Harder/Laugh the Hardest and live with Passion!
If you have ever felt such tremendous enthusiasm and desire for something that you would gladly spend all your waking hours working on it, that you would happily do without pay, then you have found your passion.
-- Sharon Cook & Graciela Sholander
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
Has anyone ever asked you what your passion was? And if so, did you have an answer, a real answer?
I think all of us have a "passion" for something but sadly I don't think everyone discovers what their passion is in life. It's easy to see how that can happen, too. Life is busy. Work, Family, Gym, Friends, Social Commitments, Social Activities, Errands, Facebook...the list goes on and on. We have so many things competing for our time and energy.
I like to think of our energy supply as an organic mass. This mass has a known quantity. Which means someday our energy will run out when we leave the earth. All of us will die one day and with that our mass of energy will have run out. If someone gave you a calendar for all of the days you have left in this world, say a calendar that had the next 40 years lined out for you, would you change the course of your activity on a daily basis? Would you fret over the small stuff, like a clean house? Essentially that is what our life is only no one has given us the calendar. When you think of it that way, why would you ever waste one month, one week or one year not doing what truly makes us happy? This isn't to say we can't be sad or angry or jealous, those emotions are essential to life, too. But it is to say, why do we waste so much time on the fluff?
When someone gives a eulogy at a funeral they are usually one of the people closest to the deceased. That person has the honor and the duty of being the last individual to ever speak on this person's behalf. Have you ever thought about who would give your own eulogy? Or one step further, what would that person say about you? We take time to fill out on-line dating applications that make us answer questions like, what three words would your friends use to describe you? But have we ever sat back and looked at their answers in order to understand how we are perceived from the outside? We hope that they use good words. We hope that the person giving our eulogy says nice, honest and truthful things. (I can't say I've ever been to a funeral where they didn't say nice things.) You hope that those closest to you, who really know you, know what you're passionate about.
So why do we waste so much time on the fluff if we know our calendar has a limited number of days? Why do we get worked up over details that will have no consequence in the future or on someone's view of us? No one started a eulogy with, "Wanda was a really nice person. She had a really clean house, drove a really nice car and her bathroom had a huge marble tub. And her china, well it was just beautiful and her silver was always polished perfectly. Oh, and in the summer we all go out on her boat, she has a great party boat!"
Why don't you hear these things in a eulogy? Because they don't matter; they're fluff. None of the stuff we surround ourself with can go with us nor does it define us. And if you're friends ever use those phrases to describe you, then you should really evaluate the relationship because they don't know you, just your stuff. What does matter is how you treat people and how you treat yourself. People may forget your words but they never forget your actions. Did you help your friends out when they needed it? Did you support family who were going through tough times? Did you take care of your family? Did you give yourself solely for the benefit of another without any alterior motive? Did you take care of yourself? Were you a happy person?
Did you find your passion?
Life gets swept up by the constant "to do" list. Finding your passion should never be on that list.
I hope that if there is one trait people will remember me by it is that I'm genuine. Sincerity is one of the most important qualities in a person. Always knowing what is real in life, what is important and what really matters, can never be underestimated.
Work Hard/Play Harder/Laugh the Hardest and live with Passion!
If you have ever felt such tremendous enthusiasm and desire for something that you would gladly spend all your waking hours working on it, that you would happily do without pay, then you have found your passion.
-- Sharon Cook & Graciela Sholander
Monday, March 1, 2010
Deal Breakers: Help or Hindrance?
What's a deal breaker in a relationship? I asked this question of several people recently and got a variety of answers. If you've watched the show Seinfeld you know Jerry had a lot of deal breakers. There was the woman with the big hands, the woman who wore the same dress all the time, the soft talker and the girl who's toothbrush he dropped in the toilet. All of these seem pretty trivial but they are not too far from dating reality.
The challenge with deal breakers is separating the small stuff from the big stuff....like:
Biting Nails
Chewing with your mouth Open
Excessively Licking Your Lips
There are things that strike a chord in us and we sometimes think we could never date this person, ever. Like they say...they have:
Murdered someone
Sold drugs to children
Starred in a pornographic film
Do deal breakers really exist or are they just an excuse for not being attracted to someone? When we analyze details about people we're essentially judging them. We're judging that their behavior, actions or physical appearance are not what we consider acceptable for a partner. (Please note, I'm just as guilty as anyone of doing this and I'm trying to understand my own deal breakers.) When we look at another's table manners or bad shoes or bad teeth, are we really feeling detracted from that person or their bad shoes? Where do we draw the line from what is something we can't get passed to something that we can get around? Or are we just making an excuse because we're really not attracted to them deep down regardless of the stone washed jeans?
Does our list of deal breakers get longer or shorter as we go through life? Do we grow more accepting of things as we age and learn to focus on the bigger picture or does the opposite happen? We grow less and less tolerant with each passing year. We get to a point in our life where we decide we want to be single because living with another person is too difficult and requires too much compromise?
In my opinion I think the deal breaker list has a direct correlation to whether or not we think life is best enjoyed with the company of others, (as a couple), or by our self. Some people are completely happy being single so therefore they are less likely to compromise on things. The attitude of, "Why am I tolerating all of this b.s., I was perfectly happy before I was in this relationship." Or do we think, "I really don't like the fact that he plays Dungeons and Dragons at this age, but I'm happy when he's around so I'll accept it."
What about the deal breakers we just can't swallow no matter how hard we try? Like bad breath or snoring. How do you fix something that can't be fixed but drives you crazy. Do you focus on the positive things or do we take these as signs that we're just not a match?
I think when we are attracted to someone, really attracted to them, we possess the ability to look past small things because the feeling of being a couple is greater than any minor pet peeve. Maybe the deal breakers are just a way that our psyche tells us this isn't in the cards because if it was you wouldn't be focused on the fact that he is wearing a Van Halen T-shirt. Instead you would focus on the fact that under that Van Halen t-shirt is a six pack you can't keep your hands off of. You wouldn't focus on the fact that his hands are rough and he has raggedy nails, but the fact that he likes to hold your hand. When you reach the point of loving someone, holes in boxers, nose hair, leaving the seat up, all of that stuff seems to fade away. We have the ability and desire to push the crazy details to the background and focus on what's important and standing in front of us center stage with a big, huge spotlight on it.
They say love is blind. And I believe it.
But I'm pretty sure attraction is deaf and mute.
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
-St. Augustine
Work Hard/Play Harder/Laugh the Hardest and Love With Your Eyes Closed!
Mw
The challenge with deal breakers is separating the small stuff from the big stuff....like:
Biting Nails
Chewing with your mouth Open
Excessively Licking Your Lips
There are things that strike a chord in us and we sometimes think we could never date this person, ever. Like they say...they have:
Murdered someone
Sold drugs to children
Starred in a pornographic film
Do deal breakers really exist or are they just an excuse for not being attracted to someone? When we analyze details about people we're essentially judging them. We're judging that their behavior, actions or physical appearance are not what we consider acceptable for a partner. (Please note, I'm just as guilty as anyone of doing this and I'm trying to understand my own deal breakers.) When we look at another's table manners or bad shoes or bad teeth, are we really feeling detracted from that person or their bad shoes? Where do we draw the line from what is something we can't get passed to something that we can get around? Or are we just making an excuse because we're really not attracted to them deep down regardless of the stone washed jeans?
Does our list of deal breakers get longer or shorter as we go through life? Do we grow more accepting of things as we age and learn to focus on the bigger picture or does the opposite happen? We grow less and less tolerant with each passing year. We get to a point in our life where we decide we want to be single because living with another person is too difficult and requires too much compromise?
In my opinion I think the deal breaker list has a direct correlation to whether or not we think life is best enjoyed with the company of others, (as a couple), or by our self. Some people are completely happy being single so therefore they are less likely to compromise on things. The attitude of, "Why am I tolerating all of this b.s., I was perfectly happy before I was in this relationship." Or do we think, "I really don't like the fact that he plays Dungeons and Dragons at this age, but I'm happy when he's around so I'll accept it."
What about the deal breakers we just can't swallow no matter how hard we try? Like bad breath or snoring. How do you fix something that can't be fixed but drives you crazy. Do you focus on the positive things or do we take these as signs that we're just not a match?
I think when we are attracted to someone, really attracted to them, we possess the ability to look past small things because the feeling of being a couple is greater than any minor pet peeve. Maybe the deal breakers are just a way that our psyche tells us this isn't in the cards because if it was you wouldn't be focused on the fact that he is wearing a Van Halen T-shirt. Instead you would focus on the fact that under that Van Halen t-shirt is a six pack you can't keep your hands off of. You wouldn't focus on the fact that his hands are rough and he has raggedy nails, but the fact that he likes to hold your hand. When you reach the point of loving someone, holes in boxers, nose hair, leaving the seat up, all of that stuff seems to fade away. We have the ability and desire to push the crazy details to the background and focus on what's important and standing in front of us center stage with a big, huge spotlight on it.
They say love is blind. And I believe it.
But I'm pretty sure attraction is deaf and mute.
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
-St. Augustine
Work Hard/Play Harder/Laugh the Hardest and Love With Your Eyes Closed!
Mw
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Mw-isms: Quotes to Live By
Some days I hear the most random of comments and quotes that I wish I had a videotape to capture not only the way it was said but who said it.
Here are a few that I've collected and have been waiting to share. You may recognize some of them:
"Just because I swear doesn't mean I'm not sophisticated"
"Bitches Get Shit Done!"
"Be Stupid On Your Own Time"
"I literally feel like I could vom all over the place" -drunk metro rider
"Two people drinking constitutes a party, one person drinking
just constitutes an alcoholic"
"Say 'Ma'am' One More Time" -Annoyed women waiting on line at Giant
"Your face makes me want to get violent"
"The first mistake most guys make when trying to pick a women up at a bar is to assume she is less intelligent then he is" -Mw
Patient: "Wow, Dr. Smith is so cute, do you know if he is single?"
Receptionist: "No, I'm quite certain he is married and has three kids."
Patient: "Are you sure? I didn't see him wearing a wedding band?"
Receptionist: "Oh, I'm quite positive, you see I'm his wife!"
(Conversation overheard at my doctor's office; and yes my Doctor was that hot.)
"I realize why the shot is called a Red Headed Slut and not a Red Headed Girlfriend. A girlfriend would never leave you feeling so bad the next morning." -Mw
"Ooooh, they're turning the lights down, now I won't look so bad"
"Nothing good ever happens after midnight"
"Is it ok for a guy to wear UGZ and tuck his pants into them?"
"No, never!"
"But what if it's snowing out really bad?"
"Still, not a good look, trust me on this one."
Girlfriend (eyeing other girl on metro): "Why can't jeans look that good on me?"
Boyfriend: "Because you don't exercise and sit on the couch eating ice cream most nights."
(Que elbow to the stomach by girlfriend)
"The only girl who successfully wore white tights was chasing a rabbit and running late to a tea party." -Mw
********************************************
The best thing to come out of the second Harold & Kumar movie...
The Square Root of 3
I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three
The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic
I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality
When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three
As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed
By David Feinberg
*************************************
My Blog is One Year Old!
Thanks for Reading,
Mw
Here are a few that I've collected and have been waiting to share. You may recognize some of them:
"Just because I swear doesn't mean I'm not sophisticated"
"Bitches Get Shit Done!"
"Be Stupid On Your Own Time"
"I literally feel like I could vom all over the place" -drunk metro rider
"Two people drinking constitutes a party, one person drinking
just constitutes an alcoholic"
"Say 'Ma'am' One More Time" -Annoyed women waiting on line at Giant
"Your face makes me want to get violent"
"The first mistake most guys make when trying to pick a women up at a bar is to assume she is less intelligent then he is" -Mw
Patient: "Wow, Dr. Smith is so cute, do you know if he is single?"
Receptionist: "No, I'm quite certain he is married and has three kids."
Patient: "Are you sure? I didn't see him wearing a wedding band?"
Receptionist: "Oh, I'm quite positive, you see I'm his wife!"
(Conversation overheard at my doctor's office; and yes my Doctor was that hot.)
"I realize why the shot is called a Red Headed Slut and not a Red Headed Girlfriend. A girlfriend would never leave you feeling so bad the next morning." -Mw
"Ooooh, they're turning the lights down, now I won't look so bad"
"Nothing good ever happens after midnight"
"Is it ok for a guy to wear UGZ and tuck his pants into them?"
"No, never!"
"But what if it's snowing out really bad?"
"Still, not a good look, trust me on this one."
Girlfriend (eyeing other girl on metro): "Why can't jeans look that good on me?"
Boyfriend: "Because you don't exercise and sit on the couch eating ice cream most nights."
(Que elbow to the stomach by girlfriend)
"The only girl who successfully wore white tights was chasing a rabbit and running late to a tea party." -Mw
********************************************
The best thing to come out of the second Harold & Kumar movie...
The Square Root of 3
I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three
The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic
I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality
When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three
As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed
By David Feinberg
*************************************
My Blog is One Year Old!
Thanks for Reading,
Mw
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