Stay away from windows and spindles

Mom introduced me to a song by Sara Bareilles that she thought was quite relevant in my life of disastrous romance and consequential bitterness. Basically the song goes through various Disney bombshells and disproves their fairytale loves lives with a realistic dose of cynicism.

Clearly, my life is no fairytale romance. I've had several serious, long-term relationships and, just as they approach a commitment tipping point, I decide they aren't right for me after all and send the shocked and heartbroken boy packing. My rationale is, much like the deceptive love lives of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, I can pretend happiness, keeping my concerns quiet, sometimes for years, even when I know that I could never commit myself by law to men with very clear personality or lifestyle conflicts with me. Why I don't toss them to the wayside immediately has always been a mystery.

More recently, I've also managed to fall hard for a man so completely wrong for me that I fear I shall never outlive the shame of my own compliance with his disrespect. Much like Snow White and her f*@ked up relationship with the dwarves, I was willing to bend over backwards to make it work. Like Ariel, I entertained the thought of giving up my standards of excellence to be with someone who wasn't even housetrained. Like Jasmine, I was fooled by an ill-behaved loser in fancy clothes. This experience has pretty much turned me into a wicked witch, but has also made me wonder how many non-believers I've turned out over my years of corrupt fairytales. I hope not many.

Am I a relationship poser? Or am I just the epitome of a hopeless romantic infused with a little sass? Either way, this Bareilles song has some good advice. First and foremost, there is no float-on-a-cloud love that comes from blind appreciation and unquestioned patience for someone who isn't right for you.

What to do? Fling myself from the nearest castle tower? Impale myself on a spindle? Probably not. Keep kissing frogs? Exhausting! I guess for now I'll just keep my hair trimmed and stay away from windows. I don't want fairytale love anyway. I want genuine, realistic happiness with a little candlelight and a few kisses on the neck mixed in.

Not such an unrealistic happy ending to hope for, in my opinion.

Anonymous Comment Box

Sometimes you need to tell someone something that you know will not come out right. Perhaps it is a bit of constructive criticism or perhaps it is a flat-out bitchy complaint. But, no matter how you say it, it will likely result in at least one person with hurt feelings. How do you avoid these socially-awkward situations?

I propose an anonymous comment box. How else could one exchange information with people of varying density those opinions that, sure, probably could be left unsaid?

I shall now use this blog as my anonymous comment box for relationships, both personal and professional.

• If you're taking me on a date, please don't show up at my house and ask what i want to do. Have a plan or at least a suggestion or two. It means a lot.
• I know you can't help it, but your snoring really bugs me.
• If you are a graphic designer and don't know how to design for the web, please don't call yourself a web designer. There is a difference.
• Stand to the FUCKING right, walk to the left!!!!!!!! Please.
• Please don't ask me out on used pieces of mail or other rubbish. If you're going for tacky, you're on the right track.
• Just because we work together doesn't mean i want to chat you up on the metro, especially in the morning.

That's all I can come up with for now...going to dinner with Reid. Please feel free to use this blog as your own anonymous comment box. I would much enjoy some collaborative bitching and moaning.

Dear God

I saw this amazing website today: http://www.dear-god.net/

Being in the online marketing field, I'm always scouring the web for the next hip and cool internet fad. And though I'm not big on God generally (I am atheist), I can't deny that this site is mega powerful and engaging. Also, I frequently like to live in fantasy non-realities of my own design (remember that panacea for feelings rubbish?) so today I am taking a trip down the "righteous path."

This particular entry made me giggle. If only...

Dear God,Could you send me a new boyfriend please? The last one
was rubbish, frankly, and could have benefited from a rethink of his sideburns,
amongst other things. The quality isn't what it used to be either and I find I
have to dispose of them far more quickly these days. AND they're more expensive.
So much for quality control. So, yes, a new boyfriend (preferably Joaquin
Phoenix but I'm happy to road test others) would be smashing. Please have him
washed and brought to my tent. Thanks ever so.Baroness Von Urquhart -
London

So, I might as well give it a try. He/She has never answered me before, but given my mild hangover from last night's Live Warfield concert, I could use the distraction from work for a bit.

Dear God,
Could you please tone it down a notch on this whole "being a grown-up" thing? Frankly, it is exhausting and not much fun. Bills, cubicles, complicated relationships, silly expectations about marriage and kids, Crystal City...i mean, come on?! I could really use a break. I'm not saying I want to go back to being a kid. I just want being a grown-up to be a tiny bit easier. Perhaps you could send me a condo? That would be fun. Or maybe you could send me a sexy guy who adores me and has proper manners and doesn't mind that I'm a little eccentric? Can he be an orphan? I sense that in-laws were
probably created by the other one down below. Also, could you make walnut cream
sauce and goat cheese ravioli fat-free please? I really love it the way it is,
but summer is coming and that whole swimsuit thing is kinda scaring me.

Thank you very much.
Rachael – Washington,
DC

Oh, and could you please make January 20, 2009 come a
little faster. I'm really tired of that guy. I'm sure you are too.

Favorite Things: Virginia Confirmed as Lovers State

I was coaxed out from under the bed this weekend and agreed to be trapped in a car for four hours with my new beau so that he could show me around one of his hometowns, Norfolk/Virginia Beach. I lived through the ordeal, just barely.

Before now, I've had a distinct distaste for Virginia, primarily because of the whole Crystal Shitty factor. What I found out over the weekend is that people from Virginia are some of the most friendly and genuine I've met in this country. Sure, they drive ridiculously big trucks and tend to vote Republican. And then there is that whole military thing....another topic altogether. But, I got to put my feet in the cold ocean and then my head on warm boy-shoulder. On average, I had a fantastic time.

In honor of the Lovers State, here are some more things I like:

• I like that, in VA, you can have a $20 glass of amazing Shiraz and then a cheap whiskey, all within a few blocks of each and there aren't any silly dress codes at either place.
• I like that in VA, the trinkets at thrift shops are sometimes organized by color.
• I like that even gas station attendants in VA are friendly and talkative, but in an appropriate "I hate my job" sort of way.
• I like that men who have never met me before call me "Baby Doll."
• I like that everyone at the raw bar celebrates if someone finds a crab in their oyster. (According to one of beau's lovely friends, this happens because tiny crab embryos sometimes get sucked into an oyster's shell as he eats. But oysters don't dig on crab so the crab grows up in the oyster shell, probably in a state of darkness and despair. When the unlucky oyster gets shucked, the equally unlucky crab is still chillin in there and gets eaten as well. This is all very fabulous for the eater since the misplaced crab is said to bring good luck.*)
• No one in VA cared that I totally suck at Guitar Hero. In fact, they were so unaffected by my clear video game un-talent that they gave me jello shots and a fruity hookah. I like that.
• Retail store employees are both charming and helpful in VA and I have a fabulous (sale-priced) sundress to prove it.
• I like that, aside from a few hours of un-fun radio listening, my beau continued to impress me with his musical prowess and I now have a bunch of new songs with which to annoy my neighbors.
  

Overall, I should really let guys of predetermined quality make me leave my comfort zone of 10 DC city blocks and occasionally see the world around me. I mean, eventually I'll have to get over the terrifying prospect of enjoying someone's company again. This self-imposed loneliness and impossible list of expectations is getting a little old actually.

So, I started with a neighboring state...perhaps being nice to a boy isn't much further in the distance.

Thanks for the fun, Oph!

*I managed to score 2 of these lucky oysters over the weekend. I did not win a thing on my scratch ticket but, I did experience luck in other ways...so validity of the crab/oyster thing is unresolved at this time. That being said, I'll take what I can get, however obscure, in the luck department.

Panacea for feelings

An unexpected new friend of mine has quickly become one of my favorite sources of musical inspiration (Don't worry Reid, you still rock too!)

Anyway, i was introduced to a new song (see chorus below) last night that caught my ear, probably for its very clever way of saying what I recently wanted to belt out from the tallest monument. Along the lines of that Eternal Sunshine concept, wouldn't it be lovely if we could erase all memory of someone and the impact they have had on our lives? Even better, wouldn't it be great if we could go back to the day before we met someone?

"I wanna go back to the day before I met ya. Things could be better if I could
forget ya. Somebody give me something strong so I can release ya. A double shot
of amnesia cuz life could be sweeter. (for me)"

It would be so convenient to go back with the clear vision that one always gets just a little too late. With that knowledge, you could potentially avoid meeting said toxic person altogether, or, at the very least, prepare yourself with metaphorical kryptonite to snuff out Superjerk quickly and without effort, before things get out of hand.

Or, if it proves impossible to just skip the whole fiasco, can't we just forget about it. Surely, with the scientific arsenal humanity now oversees (however terrifying that may be), someone could come up with an elixir or drug that would wipe my mind clean, freeing me of the unforeseen hurt feelings/insecurities/anger/humiliation/ect. Perhaps it could be a lovely herbal tea with hints of mint and rosehips? I'd even endure something sorta harsh and medicinal, like Goldschlager or Tuaca or Robitussin. I'm sending out an RFP for someone to invent this life-altering panacea...a panacea for feelings. Trust me, this would be a moneymaker.

All that being said, going back in time or performing chemical lobotomy should only be used for the most extreme of circumstances. After all, even the crappiest interactions with our fellow humans generally just make us stronger, right? For that reason (and as one who would very much like to be the first to try a double, straight up), I volunteer to be sole provider of prescriptions (or if you prefer, the omnipotent bartendress) for the totally fictional, the soooo not-gonna-happen fix for global hurt feelings. If you need a script (or a double shot), let me know.

Favorite Things 1

Try not to die of shock at my unexpected/unusual optimism...

I thought it might be nice to occasionally write about things i am NOT complaining about for a change. So i’ve initiated a new project to point out things i like in the world.

Favorite Thing 1:
You know that strange sensation you get when you are laying quietly next to someone, a bit tangled up and half asleep, and you can’t really tell your own arms and legs from their’s.

I like that.

Girl Scouts Confirmed as Public Enemies

Girl Scouts are clearly bloodthirsty torturers who have been sent to my neighborhood to dissolve the last shred of self-control I had left from my New Year’s resolutions. They are clearly evil.

Whatever happened to keeping to themselves and getting some sort of knitting badge or campfire qualifications? I thought I had immunized myself from these little beasts when I moved to a scary urban area where no sound-minded parent would ever set their kids free to knock on doors asking for money. But now, parents and scouts are setting up shop outside Metro stops so that, in my Crystal City-induced delirium, I am forced to walk past their piles of delicious Samoas and Do-Si-Dos.

If I was a terrorist, I would infiltrate the Girl Scouts because that way I could easily use poison to take out the whole country in just under a week. No one would suspect a thing because I would have already earned my "Smug-faced I-know-you-can’t-resist" badge.

Damn it!