Engagement

A long time ago, in a land not so far away, but in a much younger version of myself I had this idea of what it would be like to be engaged. Granted, in my young mind, I envisioned being a princess and had daydreams of a prince charming on a white horse and what not. However, I never got so far as to have my wedding planned out in my head. I figured out early on that such a thing was silly. Furthermore, anyone who rode up to me on a white horse and asked me to marry them would definitely be something I would find so odd that I would probably just run away and hide and possibly change my phone number.

After that stage, I had never really thought about it. Sure, I had some thoughts on how nice it would be to find someone I could connect with and travel my life with, but such a thing got moved very far down my list after other things came up in my life. It’s not that I thought I didn’t deserve it or that I had this idea that all men are evil or anything. I just figured in real life, this day and age, to be swept off your feet is truly something only found in fairy tales.

To my great surprised, I was wrong on so many counts. Yes, it’s true; a relationship is something you work on. This notion that a person is just going to pop up in your life and be perfect from the beginning and will always seem perfect is unreal. That part is true. However, what is also true is the happiness that comes from finding someone you can be with and honestly say you could be with them forever. The peace they bring in your life, the happiness that comes from being with someone who actually understands and accepts you. A person who thinks you are beautiful and believes in you, who shares similar goals and beliefs, enough that you can always find common ground between you. It’s amazing how much joy comes from such a relationship.

As happy as I have been, I have also been very scared. I guess I am to some degree because such a commitment is scary. However, primarily I’ve been scared for an entirely different reason: I’m afraid people who have known me in my life, my family, my friends will not share in my happiness. My fear comes from the fact that I often get compared to who I was, a very long time ago, when I was a very goal driven, workaholic. I would go to school, come home and spend hours studying all in effort to have an opportunity to advance my education, something I had dreamed about since I even knew what a University was.

However, I learned that there is so much to learn about this world and life that cannot be learned in a classroom, not even in a university classroom. It was difficult, but in a nutshell I had to accept that while my goal to advance my education had stayed the same, the way I wanted to, no, needed to acquire it had to change in order be successful. No, of course this may seam like a simple thing, but you would be surprised. People in my life have been oddly very quick to judge. It’s for this reason that I’ve been afraid. I’m not living a life that they have either wanted me to live or in other cases thought I would want.

Things change, and now I have. I’m now engaged. It’s funny. I find myself looking in the mirror and saying to me like a proclamation, “This is what an engaged person looks like.” Of course I follow this up with, “I don’t look any different.” I don’t know what I was expecting; maybe I thought I would glow with joy or something? I have no idea, but it’s funny to me that what is finally convincing people back home that I’m really okay with myself is my engagement, something that causes no change in myself and all the things that did bring me great change have gone completely unnoticed by them. Oh well, at least now I can finally share a piece of my happiness with them and that alone brings a huge smile on my face.

Aww, but I liked my punching bag....

It’s one thing to have internal demons since it can be a private matter, one that you spend a little bit of time on again and again until you can make peace with it. However, when the pain, the sadness and the anger involve experiences that were shared with another it’s so difficult to make peace since to do so often requires understanding what happened and learning what you can from it. That kind of perspective can only really occur with discussion from both (or all) parties. I'm not talking group therapy or anything but rather a way to remind yourself that this so called evil ex friend or significant other is simply a human (just like you, not a devil spawn or anything) that has qualities you greatly dislike or don't function well around or they don't function well around you, or whatever the reason(s).

That kind of analysis, as painfully as it can be, provides a way to assure yourself that you won’t make the same mistakes and while you may have burned a bridge or two, lost some connections with some really fantastic people along your path, you sleep well knowing that you learned what you could, you’re moving on and feel confident that you won’t make the same mistakes and will be able to hold on to the next friend or lover you find in your life.

It’s with this understanding that I have decided that the only people I really, honestly, truly have a hard time finding goodness in are those who refuse to help others with this kind of closure. They cut off contact entirely from people, preventing peace. I know it’s an odd concept and that most would say that closure comes from not communicating, but does it really? It’s only after being apart from someone for a while that you begin to realize that there is so much you did not ask, forgot to say, need to say, wonder about.

Yes, it’s true, when you end a relationship with someone, it’s probably good to have a period where you don’t speak so you can get it through your head that it’s over, at least that type of connection is. However, why don’t people stop, remove the jealously hate stick from their butts and realize how much good could come from some type of contact? Even if there was some kind of issue in regards to pain, why not communicate via email? If you can’t talk to them that day, ignore it, sleep on it, wait a few weeks, and then respond, when you can do so without words of hate and meanness. What harm comes from this exactly? I’m finding out that very little does and I’m sad that I couldn’t keep contact with more people. You’d think with social networking sites it would be easy to reconnect, but alas, I can’t.

I guess for all those unsolvable issues there is chocolate. Yay, chocolate!!

Mallrats

As much as I don't want to really to admit I've been hanging out at malls, there's only so much to do during the winter up here in Maine when there isn't beautiful snow to admire. It comes as no surprise I'm sure that most of the people wondering the mall are teenagers. I know, a shocker, right? It's sad though, that despite this fact, there isn't a whole lot there for them to do. In general, there isn't a lot for that age group to do anywhere actually. BUT, how hard would it be to include things in a mall that would be fun for that age group that would not involve spending money? Whoever owns the mall has to make a killing on renting out the store spaces, so why not take some of the store areas and turn them into something like exhibits or interactive games? I know by that age, the last thing they want to do is learn something, but surely older, wiser folks could come up with a way to trick them into doing something more productive then hiding in corners of the mall making out with their boyfriends/girlfriends of the moment and stealing things out of boredom. Just a thought. :)

If You're Tired From Biking, There's Always A Gold Chair To Sit On.

There are these signs all around where I live and I have been too embarrassed to ask someone what they meant. At first I thought they meant, well, here, let me show you what they look like:

Now, what would you think they meant? Yes, exactly. In actuality, they are signs for the Eastern Trail. It’s a route you can fallow all along the Eastern coast by bike or foot, whatever floats your boat.

I find these signs incredibly amusing because I look at them and wonder what the goal was of the design. If it was simply to inform, would it look like that? It almost seems like they wanted people to notice them, even those who are driving past just like I have. In that case, wouldn’t they be more like an advertisement since they are so eye catching? Also, in a way, they are persuasive, yet another way they are more like an advertisement.

At least that question of mine got solved today, now if only I could figure out why there is a large golden chair and footstool in front of a building near downtown. The footstool is taller than me; the chair looked like it was two stories tall. When I say large, I mean LARGE. The off season for tourism and activities is now, around Christmas, even the museums are closed. I also can’t figure out what the building is and it’s interesting that it’s at the intersection of Rice Street and Love Lane which leads of Government Ave.

So there you have it, further proof that I am not supposed to live a normal life. Well, at least I’ll never get bored, which makes me happy.

The Glass Is Really Half Full

There is something very nice about going to someplace and taking all the time in the world. I once went to a museum while on vacation by myself and read every single title plaque or exhibit description. It wasn’t a very large museum, but I was there for four hours. I did my best to take in the moment, understanding I was on vacation there and would never come back. It’s hard to do that kind of thing when you are with someone else or on a date because you’re often more interested in the person than your surroundings.

I know I have heard from lots of people how they can’t do something without someone to go with them or it wouldn’t be any fun. There are even people whom only do things when they are with someone else. It’s like there’s a law some where that says you can’t go to a zoo by yourself. What’s the deal? In some situations, I can understand the safety issue. It’s probably not a good idea to go rock climbing alone, or in my case, go swimming by myself, so there are situations. However, why do so many people hide from experiences simply because they do not have someone to share them with? What are people afraid of exactly?

The Aliens Attack

This morning I awoke to lots of lights in my room coming from outside. There were no sirens or anything so in my half awaken state I thought that we were being attacked by aliens. Granted, it probably didn’t help that I watched the movie War of the Worlds last night. Regardless, I felt so brave at 5:30 this morning sneaking to my window and looking out, expecting to, well, I don’t know, it made sense in my half awaken state. To my surprise, they were actually snow plowing my little, tiny street at that hour. Talk about service, in my home town of Lawrence we were always thankful if they got the major highways plowed by rush hour, but I guess here they mean business. I imagine no one ever calls into work and says their running late because the roads are bad.

Sigh. I keep forgetting to invest in a snow shovel. I guess in some small room of my brain it was decided that I could prevent winter from coming if I just was ready yet. I now have a drive way that will be a total nightmare to get out of, but if I can slide out into the street and not hit the mailboxes, I should be fine. I also do have lots of hot chocolate and marshmallows. I also have the internet, Netflix and the complete collection of Charles Dickens, so I’m fine.

Now, if I can only convince the gods to bring back sunshine and my wonderful, amazing sailor, life would be alright.

(I’d forgive them for this whole snow business before Christmas thing.)

The English Connection

I can remember a time when I was much younger and beginning to take an interest in the history of my family. I can remember realizing that, well, of course, my family didn’t always speak English, followed of course by the odd noise I make in my head that basically sounds like, duh. Anyway, continuing with my thoughts on language and communication, it seemed acceptable to note some of my thoughts on the United States and its history of a common language, although, not “official.”

Yes, it’s probably safe to make the general statement that we are a country of immigrants. In fact, this is such a part of our culture that we hardly identify ourselves as American. Rather, it’s I’m German, Swiss, English and so forth. Even when you read American celebrity profiles you can find out where their family emigrated from. It is sometimes mentioned as an actress of Italian heritage or of Irish stock. What is absolutely amazing about this country is how even though most people have retained a sense of pride about their heritage, within a generation, if that long, you speak English. There’s this story that gets told over and over again, in my family, how when my great grandfather first came to the United States he took the train down the St. Louis. By the time he got there he could say, “Fuck You,” “Song of Bitch,” “Dimmit,” and every other curse word you need to know to defend yourself against the welcoming citizens of the United States. What can I say? This country has a long history of having mixed feelings about immigrants.

Now, I simply mention this for two reasons. First, what currently is taking place, with the fact that people are choosing to permanently relocate here is not some new problem that only occurred as of our generation, nor is the fact, that as a whole, we are not as welcoming as we could be to our new neighbors. This trend has been occurring for, oh, I don’t know, since the very, very beginning of this country’s history. A better question might be, when did this not go on? My second reason is to share, or rather remind that we all have noticed how much information is being presented in more than one language in this country.

Seriously, name one other thing that connects this people of this country, something that connects every single family, name one other one. I honestly do not think there is anything other than the language of English. Unfortunately, we live in a world where people really need to speak more than one language, and maybe in a generation, three or four, so it seems natural to want to present information in more than one language. However, this creates an issue where people may only choose and can get by with knowing some language other than English and then that is when this country will begin to be divided, the very moment we can not communicate with each other. The day we need a translator in Congress so that get things done, that’s when it will get ugly. Yes, it’s true, it probably won’t happen any time in the near future, but it wouldn’t surprise me if my grandchildren had to deal with this.