December 20th, 2009

"And if you promised you'd love so completely And you said you would always be true You swore that you never would leave me, baby What ever happened to you And you thought it was only in movies As you wish all your dreams would come true, hey It ain't the first time believe me, baby I'm standin' here feeling blue, blue Ha, yeah, I'm blue, hoh, baby" -led zeppelin, fool in the rain

These are a few of my favorite things.

I love the holidays. Me, and the other 85% of the American population. I love bundling up in pea coats and day tripping through the city - armed with slouchy boots and winter scarves (a white glittered fringe being my current favorite). I love any excuse to sport knitted caps and gloves - as I firmly believe that gloves, specifically evening, are going to make a comeback - and winter is the only time accessorizing with a Starbucks cup should ever be allowed. (Eat your heart out Britney Spears) I love dressing in glitz and making appearances at cozy holiday gatherings. I especially love the craziness; the hoopla and scurrying to find appropriate gifts. I can spend hours at target selecting wrapping paper with matching name tags and bows and even more time arranging table settings and centerpieces. I have inherited the domestic gene from my mother; there isn't a single cocktail party I can't pull off. There is no amount of baking, or cooking, or combination of the two that I can't master and deliver in stilettos and a smile. (And, of course, a fabulously tailored apron) The holiday season has been carefully marketed for the people (of course, who else?). Bring the people together; convince the people to spend money on friends and loved ones - but ultimitely, bring them together.

This year, I wanted to exploit my hosting skills. I wanted to wine and dine and enjoy the company of those close to me. I wanted to spend this season in the arms of my lover building our foundation for the coming year (this is beginning to read like a Nora Roberts novel...sorry). I was excited to spend my time with a man I actually felt something for. I wanted dinner parties, movies by the fire and kisses under the mistle toe. I wanted to walk the city, hand in hand, admiring christmas lights and partaking in all things cheesy and cliche and Christmas. I wanted Frank Sinatra's best and Christmas morning pancakes and champagne in bed. I love this time of year, I love being IN love during this season of merriment. However, my recent breakup has left me feeling betrayed, devastated, and all other emotions resembling anger/hurt/what have you. I am bitter, and whining. So now I wonder, if you can't make a relationship work under the magic of the holiday season, should you abandon hope completely? If Christmas can't bring two people together, what else is there? 'Tis the season of forgiveness and love and all things beautiful. It's magic. Ask any 5 year old and prepare to be enchanted with their eagerness and ability to believe in everything they cannot see. Santa Clause, case and point. If Christmas is about being together, why is it December 19th and I feel completely alone?

I see these couples in department stores, they are embracing the hostility of last minute shopping and the company of each other. Their "togetherness" is intoxifying, and I am envious. Not because I find myself - once again - single, but because they survived. They made it through whatever bullshit happened in 2009, and they made it together. I can't explain the feeling of defeat that suffocates me; I know what I am capable of enduring, what I can fix and what I can live with. But now I know what I can't live without (please don't place me in the desperate woman category, just hear me out). I fell in love this year, and I am now convinced it was the only time I ever actually WAS in love. I fell for a man that was completely wrong for me; however, I am a stubborn gal and refused defeat. I put a lot of weight on this holiday season, because I was excited to share the magic with HIM and because I was sure that same magic would rekindle what had already begun to disappear. Unfortunately for me, neither rang true. So I will ask again, if you can't make love happen under the haze of Christmas magic, what happens next? 2010, cheers to starting over.

I have just received the most devastating news of the decade. This just in: Escada Magnetism is DISCONTINUED!! This is awful news. This is the end of an era, this is an absolute OUTRAGE! I have been a happy supporter of the fragrance for 6 years - yes count them - 6 years! I feel so angry and betrayed - how can such a brand throw my heart into the wind? I feel as if I found my lover in bed with another woman - I am furious! (And slightly over dramatic) I bleed, sweat, and cry that scent. The heavy, pungent fragrance has become my signature. What am I to do now? - Aside from piss and moan about how ludicrous this entire issue has become. You can rest assured that I will be writing a very angry letter. Until then..

Someone like me.

I am feeling nostalgic today. I feel the need for reflection - I am blue. Melancholy. (And the infinite sadness) Whatever. This entry is simply me whining about things I can't change. Enjoy?

"There are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone." -Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live

Someone dear to me recommended the above book to me, and it is one of the best pieces of literature I have come across thus far. The writing is real (mostly) and the author, Chuck Klosterman, speaks as if he is sitting across from you at some dive bar. Bud Light in hand, teetering the line between semi-coherent thought and blacking out completely. Bottom line - it is a great read.

The above quotation is perfect, and relevant to men and women everywhere - which solidifies its momentous value. I have read and re-read the excerpt and each time I can't help but ask, "what about the other person - the person on the other end?" Her. Maybe she hasn't experienced that significant love. For her, the current love is creator of her heart. Is she forever fated to stand in the shadow of the "defining" woman before her? It's like finding this season's Manolos in a size 8 - and you're a 6. So you buy the damn shoes anyway thinking, "I can make this work." But you can't. So I ask, what about HER? She fell in love and landed on her face; she lost her logic and became totally enamored with an obviously unavailable man. Timing is a wicked trick of fate; it determines the outcome long before you start the game.

So, a guy falls in love and ends up with a broken heart. He loved some girl that made him feel important; she made him feel confident. She has more charisma than his previous girlfriend and she captivated him. He loved her because she was different; she was fun and encouraged him to break his own boundaries. I get it. It makes sense. But every woman after is bound to comparison? Every female - even the good ones - are never capable of filling his void? I have a hard time buying that. So now I have to ask, is it only frustrating chasing shadows when you know that they exist? What if you didn't know about the woman on a pedestal before you - would there be no feeling of inadequacy? If you didn't know that your character was being evaluated - that is was made into a list of pros and cons - could you trick yourself into believing that you were the "defining" woman? Its possible. But curiosity is the ultimate killer of both good and evil; Pandora's box is just too tempting to ignore. I have been there. Twice actually and both experiences were, or have been, absolutely horrible. I don't want to be the next girl, I want to be THE girl and Chuck Klosterman is a bastard for spitting the truth in my face. I hate authors that bottle truth in pint size doses and force feed their readers with eloquent language and witty banter. He is a bastard because he is right.

The epic woman is the control factor in this senseless battle we label "love". Love is a daily measure of checks and balances - comparing notes and doodling in the margins of experience - we fine tune our senses and learn the qualities that are ultimately compatible with our own character. The trick to escaping the labyrinth is this: don't be the next person. Don't allow yourself to become the person AFTER the "defining" love. You will spend the rest of your life chasing shadows; a 6 will never be an 8.

I was a smart girl, until I fell in love. (quoted from Sex and the City)

Whisper words of wisdom; Let It Be.

I am very dissatisfied with the direction of this blog, or lack thereof. I have become unreliable in my musings and I am not that sorry. So today I compiled a list of quick tips from the Lindsay Logic Library. (Yes, I am nerdy enough to coin my own advice as such.) These are just some things that I have found to be either true, or crucial to life. Enjoy.

-Monday's are best handled with a stiff cup of coffee and a great pair of shoes. Also, the better your outfit is the more effective your day will be. Confidence is essential.
-Ranting is important, it is very therapeutic to yell and scream and cause embarrassment. Find a friend that allows you to behave childishly.
-The Starbucks on Scottsdale and Shea is impossible to get into. Avoid that location.
-Whoever said coined the "if life hands you lemons..." cliche should be shot. I cringe every time I hear that reference. Life just is. That's it.
-Movies lie. lie. lie.
-Rhett Butler does not exist. Anywhere. I have looked.
-Men act out of necessity, women out of passion.
-Don't let a man take charge of your happiness, that is entirely too much control for such a person to have.
-Infidelity is the ultimate fate of a restless partner.
-Curiosity killed the cat - and destroyed the relationship. What happened to monogamy?
-Confidence. Enough said.
-Happy hour is an important part of the work week. Find a bar and become a regular.
-If someone wants you in their life, they will make it happen. Force should not be necessary.
-Gabel's laugh is the cure for everything.
-Trust is crucial in any relationship - work, friends, and love. The loss of such is crippling and nearly impossible to rebuild. I have tried.
-People don't change. They evolve and adapt. Stop trying to turn monkey's into men - it should just happen.
-On the above note, don't change for some blockhead. He should appreciate your greatness as is. Otherwise, he most definitely is not worth your time.
-A person's dating history is like their credit report; don't be silly and ignore bad habits!
-Love doesn't happen just once. It is every day.
-Find freedom in independence.
-Smile.
-Listen to your mother, she has been around and can offer great advice.
-Marry your best friend. (Just a goal of mine)
-Live in love. Every day.
-Give back. It's a great feeling.
-Remember where you came from; your roots help to define character.
-Strive to make an impact in someone else's life. This correlates with giving back.
-Stop searching; You're never going to find it if you're looking for it.

fated to pretend.

I am exhausted. I spent most of my night tossing and turning between lynard skynard lyrics and the obnoxious sound of my dog snoring. I was hot, I was restless - I couldn't flip the switch. As expected, the clarity of my thoughts became muted and I found myself wandering between impatience and insanity. (I really wish that I could leash these things, I feel I would be a more sound individual if I could just contain the high strung ideas that bounce around my head. Unfortunately for me, no such thing exists.) But in my madness I did come to one very solid realization: I am a product of my generation (how cliche!). I am pickled by the media and have a very unrealistic perception of the logistics of life. I think about point A and point B and spend little to no time calculating the distance between the two. I demand instant gratification; if I do not see results immediately I throw a fit and dictate blame. I wish that these little annoyances of my life could be bottled up and tossed into the waves. How simple would growing up be if the shitty things that make you crazy could just be shipped off to sea - fantastic, right? Too fucking bad.

At 2am I started picking apart love. Love is such a ridiculous thing to be wasting your sleep on. Except that I can't stop turning that thought - smoothing it over, pulling it to pieces, rebuilding its structure - I have given up and decided that I never will understand it. It came and I let it consume me: like locusts to a field I was devoured and left with ashes. Ashes that somehow are supposed to build my morale and prepare me for the next conquest of l.o.v.e I became stupid, made outlandish sacrifices and somehow went from being one very sane, very put together woman into my current state: the medusa haired potato lady. (I use this analogy because somewhere there is a large breasted woman laughing her ass off. Picture the potato that you seemingly forgot about until that day you rediscovered it growing tentacles under the sink. That is what I became this year - the spud covered woman that was left to her own craziness and demise. Pathetic.) So what happens next?

I feel so jilted - where is my Rhett Butler? Where is the man that comes and envelopes me in affection and adoration? And where the HELL is the man that thinks my childish giggle is cute and my high strung personality is fascinating? (I imagine that he somehow got lost in translation - his plane was delayed from Hollywood, I know he sends his apologies.) I guess these lessons in life are mandatory - 23 isn't supposed to yield a love of epic proportion. It is the age of learning these ridiculous rules and building that absurd thing my parents refer to as "character". At 23, I am expected to fall on my face and bear the scarlet letter of a shattered heart. Apparently it is a right of passage. Apparently cynicism is common in women of my character - apparently we are just tra-la-la-laing (thanks Jordan) through life on a magic carpet that will never land on the door step of any single/eligible twenty something man. No, this carpet just kicks me off into the wasteland of unavailable, unattainable, and completely commitment phobic men. (They're all really just frat boys dolled up in suits and ties) I really need to get my hands on a better flight itinerary.