Dear Jane:
We regret that your recent "adventures" have involved nausea and other nasty symptoms. We understand that you have had difficulty with the challenges you've faced and continue to face. We apologize for these inconveniences, but must remind you that what appear to be problems are lessons, not punishment. We tried to get you to appreciate life with a fully-functional body, decent cash flow, and an occasional beau, and sometimes you were a bit indulgent in your moods ANYWAY. As a favorite song from your childhood goes, your motto has always been, "I can't complain, but sometimes I still do." So, your good fortune had to go away, at least for a while. You needed to see that "regular life" in the old sense of the phrase was really a great life, and that the world is full of possibilities and adventures. You needed to learn what real challenges were. And now, you have.
What we gave you was strength. We know it seems like we gave you one unsurmountable problem after another, which we kind of did, but think about this: will you ever take the things you treasure the most for granted ever again? Will you ever get into anything that's over your head? Will you ever allow your "pride" to have a say in the choices you make? Hell no- because you know better. And that's that.
We are, however, more than happy to grant your request. If there's anything that you need, it's good times with friends. We will do our best to steer hurricanes away on any weekends when you have out-of-town plans. We will try to coordinate your life with those of your friends so that your paths can intersect. Finally, we will do our best to keep you healthy and walking steady through life.
We wish you well on your endeavors.
As ever,
The Universe
Saturday 7 July 2012
Friday 6 July 2012
I Remember... part 2
Oh, the trouble the internet causes. The uniting and reuniting of friends and crushes. The mayhem that ensues!
There was this guy I knew who took me dancing once. I must have been about 18 years old, maybe 19. I still lived at home with mom and dad. I remember this because my mother was quite taken with the young man. He has dark eyes and a Spanish last name, and my mother goes for that.
These 2 girls I knew from school, Jenny and Chris, told me that he was going to call me up and ask me to go dancing. They said, "He's not asking you out; he has a girlfriend. He just thinks it would be fun to go dancing. You should go with him." So, I did. It was fun. We talked about a bunch of stuff, had fun at the club, and it was a good evening overall. I didn't think much about it afterward because I was under the impression he was with someone else. It was a pleasant memory. Time went on, and I didn't see him again.
Years later, he found me on the internet. Regrettably, he was going through a divorce. I tried to be a sympathetic ear but kept a healthy distance; I was, after all, involved with a man whom I hoped to have a future with. (I didn't, but that's a story for another day.) He told me at one point that he'd been interested in me on our non-date, but that another friend of his was going to come to the club and ask me out that night.
Who? I asked him. I couldn't figure out who he was referring to.
It was B. The very same B who I talk with now. I adored B and had absolutely no idea that this was an option.
So I asked him, "If I was the belle of the freaking ball, why didn't anyone tell me?" In retrospect, I don't think he appreciated that bit of commentary.
I will say in my defense that I was young and completely obnoxious.
I recently had the chance to ask B about this particular incident via email. He said he didn't remember it specifically but said he had a big crush on me then. It made my week.
There was this guy I knew who took me dancing once. I must have been about 18 years old, maybe 19. I still lived at home with mom and dad. I remember this because my mother was quite taken with the young man. He has dark eyes and a Spanish last name, and my mother goes for that.
These 2 girls I knew from school, Jenny and Chris, told me that he was going to call me up and ask me to go dancing. They said, "He's not asking you out; he has a girlfriend. He just thinks it would be fun to go dancing. You should go with him." So, I did. It was fun. We talked about a bunch of stuff, had fun at the club, and it was a good evening overall. I didn't think much about it afterward because I was under the impression he was with someone else. It was a pleasant memory. Time went on, and I didn't see him again.
Years later, he found me on the internet. Regrettably, he was going through a divorce. I tried to be a sympathetic ear but kept a healthy distance; I was, after all, involved with a man whom I hoped to have a future with. (I didn't, but that's a story for another day.) He told me at one point that he'd been interested in me on our non-date, but that another friend of his was going to come to the club and ask me out that night.
Who? I asked him. I couldn't figure out who he was referring to.
It was B. The very same B who I talk with now. I adored B and had absolutely no idea that this was an option.
So I asked him, "If I was the belle of the freaking ball, why didn't anyone tell me?" In retrospect, I don't think he appreciated that bit of commentary.
I will say in my defense that I was young and completely obnoxious.
I recently had the chance to ask B about this particular incident via email. He said he didn't remember it specifically but said he had a big crush on me then. It made my week.
Wednesday 4 July 2012
I Remember... part 1
There's a writing exercise a friend told me about that helps with writer's block. You start with the phrase, "I remember," and go from there. Today's topic will be: a man from my past.
I remember his hair hanging in his face, and how he dressed like a skater. He must have worn all-stars or something similar; I really don't know. I remember his eyes- they were kind, and still are, from what I can tell from photographs of him. I think the vibe he gave off was what I remember the most because it made me at ease, but then I also found him attractive, and given that we were both teenagers, well, the hormones won out. I had the stupidest crush on him. I actually met him through his younger sister (I know, how very cliche), and she and I are very close in age- 9 days apart, to be exact. But one hopes that's where the similarities ends. One doesn't want to remind a man of his sister, right?
I remember meeting someone like him the summer I turned 23. He was like my Hobbes or my own personal Buddha. He was a great friend and if the two of us hadn't moved 27 times since 1996, and if he didn't have such a common name that made searching for him on Facebook nearly impossible, I like to think we'd still be in touch. The guy I met in the summer I turned 23 was named Aaron. The guy I met as a teenager was named B, for our purposes.
I didn't hear B's name for a long time. I ran into his sister at our 10-year reunion and asked how he was. She said he was married. I was at that point of life where it seemed all the good ones were spoken for, so I was disappointed but it was OK. He was a person I hadn't seen for years, after all.
But before I attended this reunion, or maybe after (it's kind of a blur, my 20s), I heard another story about B, from someone else who played a peripheral role in my teenage years. It was most intriguing. Recently I had the chance to ask B about it... and I'll tell that story the next time I sign in. For now, it's time to make the doughnuts.
I remember his hair hanging in his face, and how he dressed like a skater. He must have worn all-stars or something similar; I really don't know. I remember his eyes- they were kind, and still are, from what I can tell from photographs of him. I think the vibe he gave off was what I remember the most because it made me at ease, but then I also found him attractive, and given that we were both teenagers, well, the hormones won out. I had the stupidest crush on him. I actually met him through his younger sister (I know, how very cliche), and she and I are very close in age- 9 days apart, to be exact. But one hopes that's where the similarities ends. One doesn't want to remind a man of his sister, right?
I remember meeting someone like him the summer I turned 23. He was like my Hobbes or my own personal Buddha. He was a great friend and if the two of us hadn't moved 27 times since 1996, and if he didn't have such a common name that made searching for him on Facebook nearly impossible, I like to think we'd still be in touch. The guy I met in the summer I turned 23 was named Aaron. The guy I met as a teenager was named B, for our purposes.
I didn't hear B's name for a long time. I ran into his sister at our 10-year reunion and asked how he was. She said he was married. I was at that point of life where it seemed all the good ones were spoken for, so I was disappointed but it was OK. He was a person I hadn't seen for years, after all.
But before I attended this reunion, or maybe after (it's kind of a blur, my 20s), I heard another story about B, from someone else who played a peripheral role in my teenage years. It was most intriguing. Recently I had the chance to ask B about it... and I'll tell that story the next time I sign in. For now, it's time to make the doughnuts.
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