Getting back on the bicycle

Anyone who’s been in a relationship before knows there are only two ways it can go, you either stay together forever and get married, or you break up.  Both options, while on opposing sides of the same coin, are extremely intimidating and scary; forever is a really long time even when you are absolutely certian of the person, but breakups really hurt.  For the inevitable relationships that end in break up, that poses another two options; either you break your partner’s heart or they break yours.  Regardless of who actually pulls the trigger, the end result is the same, you both end up hurt.  Sure, there is always going to be someone who is more hurt, someone who was disillusioned into thinking the end was not near, but even if it is just for a brief moment, both of you will hurt.

It is okay to be sad and wounded though.  Feel it, take it in, that’s the thing about pain, it demands to be felt[1] .  No one is saying that you should not mourn your past relationship, even if it was your choice to leave it.  Yet, every relationship is a learning experience.  Once you are done wallowing in the remnants of your failed relationship, pick yourself up and get ready to try again.

Breakups and being single are a rite of passage for everyone, no matter the age.  You are constantly learning things about yourself and what you want out of your relationships with others.  What I have learned from my relationships over the past 4 years is that not everyone wants to be fixed.  You cannot save everyone, especially when they do not want to save themselves.  Yes, relationships are about support and codependence [in a healthy and helpful way] but you cannot force someone to see their flaws and better themselves if they do not want to. 

I have always been a saver in life; I see people drowning in a sea of despair and I am right there in the thick of it trying to swim them to shore.  Unfortunately for me, as with most panicked people and misery loving company, that often ends up in me being the one to drown.  That is okay though, I rather be the hopeful realist than wallow in my own self-pity and the drama I created without having any self-awareness or responsibility for the situation.  My largest flaws are giving too many people the benefit of the doubt, making excuses for other people’s flaws, and not protecting myself enough.  I see the world through rose colored glasses in which I think because I can see the better in people, they will want to be that person too.

While that often leaves me temporarily heartbroken, it does not leave me discouraged overall.  Once the initial pain of the breakup and its aftermath subside, you have to pick yourself up and move on.  This is the time, I find, to be in the best place! You are surrounded by grace and endless opportunities; you get to rebuild your life the way you want and you get to change all the things that caused your last relationship to fail so you will not repeat the same mistakes.  Relationships are mainly about compromising, not changing yourself per se, but compromising enough to know how and when to choose your battles.  At the end of each relationship you are left with more information about yourself; who you are, who you want to be, the type of person you want to be with, and moreover what you can and cannot compromise on in life.

As sad as each relationship’s end is, you need to find the silver lining and lesson in the breakdown, because the truth is you will go through a lot of breakups in your life.  The deal with relationships are, they do not work out until the one that actually does [thus resulting in a ‘forever’ relationship].  Relationships, while work, should be fun.  You’re going on a journey with someone else, for an undefined amount of time, and in the process you are learning about them, yourself, what you have to offer to other people, and getting to experience new parts of life that you probably would not have done on your own.  Each person who you encounter in your life has a purpose of some sort; most are just lessons or white noise until you meet the game changer, the one who is so undeniably made for you. 

That is how I feel, anyway.  Whenever a relationship ends for me, although I do get sad, eventually, when enough time has passed, I get hopeful about being one step closer to meeting the forever prospect.  So, daters, when you find yourself thrown from that bicycle and you are sitting in a ditch all battered and bruised with your heart in your hand, just remember . . .each relationship fails until the one that doesn’t.  And since the one that does not end in breaking up is going to end in eternity, enjoy the right now! This is your time, the best time of your life, enjoy the learning experience and trust the process.  Just remember, my hopeful romantics, any time you are heartbroken, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get back on that bicycle!

Later, Daters, Enjoy the ride.

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[1] Profound quote from John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars.

Leslie Knope is my Spirit Animal

Five years ago a comedian came to my college known as Aziz Ansari.  At the time he was known, but did not have the level of fame and exposure he does now.  He was doing standup, but also promoting a new show he was starring in called Parks and Recreations [Parks & Rec].  I am not the best TV person; it takes a lot for me to follow a show, but my brother loves it so whenever it was on, I would catch an episode.  However, after catching a few episodes on TV last week, I decided to start from Season 1 and work my way up to present.

Let me start by saying that the show is extremely entertaining.  While some people may compare it to The Office because of its ‘mockumentary’ type style [where they are constantly talking to the camera as if being interviewed] it is completely in a league of its own.  The more I watch the show and see each character develop, the more engrossed in the series I become.  Each character brings a great and unique part to the show, but of course I do have a favorite.  Ron Swanson is my all-time favorite person (not just character) because he has amazing one-liners and he is just hilarious while being completely serious.  If Ron Swanson were a real person, I would love to hang out with him.  He is my favorite ever. However, Leslie Knope is my spirit animal.

While that may seem like an obvious ‘favorite’ being as she is the leading heroine of the show, that is not why she is my spirit animal.  For one, she is funny, sassy, determined, work oriented, klutzy and that pretty much sums we up in a nutshell.  The real thing that stood out to me about her though, is that she is probably the only person who goes on worst dates than I do.

 For evidence, please cite: http://youtu.be/o0MKUXNzvDE

I have no ownership of this video or it’s contents, it is just something poignant I found on the internet, and ignore the quality because it sucks.  However, it describes all her horrible first dates and they sound like they could have been stories extracted from my memoir (or blog). 

Leslie comes up with these schemes and witty retorts that you know could never come from a government official in real life, however you just can’t help but fall in love with her.  She is completely oblivious and extremely ditzy, yet her passion and drive makes everything work out.  Leslie takes the stance that 'boy's clubs' should not be just about men and if she were to ever be involved in a sex scandal, it would be with her being President and the 'mistress' being the Vice-President.  Between that level of ridiculous and Aziz Ansari's annoying pseudo Casanova character, Tom Haverford, this show keeps you laughing for the full 30 minutes.

In the past my dream team night out of drinking and shenanigans used to be Ke$ha and P!nk, potentially ending in some jail time, but now I would much rather celebrate Galentine’s day with Leslie Knope.  Ya know, Ovaries before Brovaries.  If none of that makes sense to you, it is probably because I have binge watched so much of the show I actually feeling like I am working for the Parks Department.

With all of the different characters and personalities in this show, you will be found to find someone to relate to and fall in love with, even if your spirit animal isn't Leslie.  I even tend to sympathize with Jerry, although I think that exactly goes against what the show wants.  Regardless, you will find something to love in this amazing show.

If you have yet to check out Parks & Recs, definitely log onto your Netflix (or a friends…who doesn’t have an account nowadays?) and get ready to binge watch.  You need to catch up now since their upcoming 7th season will be their final. It is completely worth the hours you will spend in front of your TV.  I mean, it is really worth it . . . have I steered you wrong yet?

  

When is holding on TOO long?

Learning to say goodbye is something we start to comprehend at an early age.  Babies learn to say ‘bye-bye’ fairly quickly and use that term any time a person exits a room.  However, when it comes to permanent exits from our life, how long is too long to hold a candle?

When relationships end, as I’ve stated in previous blogs, it is usually best to cut all ties. Nothing good ever really comes out of staying friends with exes; cordial pleasantries are one thing, but to ‘stay friends’ is just asking for trouble.  As The Script says ‘when a heart breaks, it don’t break even,’ so there are often residual feelings lingering about post-breakup from one of the parties involved.  This is just natural, feelings just do not go away over night, but if you keep picking at the wound [i.e. hanging out/keeping in contact with your ex] you will never be able to fully move on. 

The real question is, though, what happens when you do stop talking and you remove them from your life, yet still keep coming back to each other?  Maybe you just know their birthday off the top of your head and send them a text on that day, maybe they can’t stop texting you every time they hear that song you liked, maybe you both live in the same neighborhood and have run-ins frequently; whatever the case is, the door is still open for contact.  What happens then when that minimal contact opens the door for more frequent and planned contact?

The unspoken rule is that you get a few weeks mourning period for every month you dated, but what if the time you spent apart exceeds the time you spent together?  Do you then take that as a sign that the universe does not want you to let go of that person? I mean, there has to be a reason why you cannot get them out of your head and they feel the same way, right?  Does the fact that you two keep coming back to each other regardless of time mean you are soul mates or does it mean that you are both masochists and enjoy playing the same hurtful scenario out over and over again. 

I am extremely on the fence about this answer, as both sides make alarmingly solid points. On one hand, you obviously both had a lot of things in common, which is why you were together in the first place, but now you have memories too?! Not to mention nostalgia/graduation goggles[1] often make people stay places they are comfortable in rather than venture out into the great unknown.  This sense of familiarity and comfort with another person paired with your obvious connection is enough of a positive to say ‘yes, the universe wants us to be together.’  However, Albert Einstein does make a point when he says insanity is the act of doing something over and over again and expecting different results.  To me, not wanting to be insane would be enough to say ‘you are just a masochist and like to be miserable.’  But really, doesn’t everyone like things that are bad for them? I mean, hello! I know eating my own weight in chocolate is bad, but it tastes so good!

This is where the cynic and romantic collide.  When is holding on too long? Do you hold on to hope and try again, or do you cut your losses and move it along? Does it make you insane to try a relationship again, because history tells you it will end badly, or does time really heal all wounds and therefore you can try again as more experienced and mature people?  These are my Monday musings . . . just a thought.

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[1] Graduation Goggles- the filter you get when graduating school and the fear of reality and the unknown sinks in.  You begin to remember everything you are leaving behind to be so much better than it actually was.

Flashing Lights.-An Ode to my Love Affair with New York

Over the past several years I have been finally getting to my bucket list and traveling the United States.  While I have many places still left to see, I have fallen in love with many different cities along the way.  Every vacation is different, some I stay for a week, others a long weekend, sometimes I make sure to hit all the tourist sights, and other times I just wander and see what I can find.  The one thing all these trips have in common, though, is that when I come home, even when I have an amazing trip, I am overwhelmingly glad to be home.

I have always been a New Yorker, and while I moved around a bit including a brief stint living in Europe, I have always been a New Yorker at heart.  When I say I am a New Yorker, I do not mean I talk with an accent, scream at cab drivers and say things like ‘fugghedaboutit,’ because I do not.  I mean sure, I probably emulate a stereotypical New Yorker with my black leather jacket and oversized sunglasses, but that is just because my style screams BAMF[1].  However, what I mean when I say ‘I am a New Yorker’ has more to do with my frame of mind and what is in my heart than it does how I speak or what I look like.

When I went on vacation several weeks ago, I was exploring a park that had a sculpture of a man playing piano in it.  Of course I ran up to take pictures with it, after all, I never miss a good photo opportunity! After my impromptu photo-shoot was over, I realized there was a backpack in the sculpture.  My first instinct was to call the cops because ‘if you see something, say something’, but my Nashville cohorts assured me that this was a common occurrence of homeless residents hiding their belongings for ‘safe keeping.’ Apparently, my paranoia was a New York affliction. 

I lived in a beach front community for a good portion of my youth; we were secluded and peaceful, it was all the perks of suburban living, but we were several minutes away from city exposure.  That to me was the best of both worlds.  As I am getting older I am constantly thinking of whether or not I want to stay in New York and where my career/life opportunities will take me.  This is an internal debate that I have a lot of trouble with; I am drowning in inner turmoil. 

While I would love to move to some of the other cities I have fallen in love with over the years, I know that I am unfit for anywhere but New York.  New York City is my home, and while I could live somewhere else, I do not necessarily think I will ever fit in anywhere else.  The skyline is engraved on my heart, the lights and sounds in my ears, and the beauty and peace I find in the wild calamity of the city pumps through my veins.  Every day when I get a view of the Freedom Tower behind the Brooklyn Bridge on my way home, I am engulfed by an overwhelming sense of pride. Knowing my city’s heartache, seeing it’s wounds, and watching it rise up bigger and better, ready to fight another day; that is why I love New York.  That is the passion and attitude I embody to my very core.    For that reason, I will always be a little piece of New York, everywhere I go.

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[1] BAMF: Coloquialism. Bad ass mother F----you get the idea

I Could Be Married By Now

Wow.  That is certainly a loaded statement, but it is the truth.  Before I became a reformed party girl, I had my fair share of bar nights.  Those nights are filled with crazy, bizarre, unique and extraordinary stories that can only happen to me because, well, I am just that lucky.  I have a magnet that attracts every creep and weirdo in vicinity.  I am too friendly.

But, I digress.  I decided to add a new mix of topic into my blog, and that is going to be some stories from my ‘glory days.’  I never thought anything of these stories.  They’re just silly anecdotes I thought every girl has, but the more I tell them to my coworkers and see their reactions, the more I realize my stories are not common.  So, without further ado, for your laughing pleasure, I will divulge.

With all my friends now getting married, and me being the perpetual bridesmaid, I thought this would be a great time to discuss how I, in fact, could be married by now.  I have been proposed to twice in my life.

Sure, they were both in jest (I’m hoping) by complete strangers in a bar, but that stills counts, right?

My junior year of college I went out with my roommates for a ‘girls night’ on Valentine’s day in the city.  We went down to McSorley’s, which was all of our first times there, and it was quite the show! First, if you have never been, you should absolutely go! When you get there you only have two options, light or dark ale.  You also cannot order less than 2 beers at a time.  Being the ladies that we were, we each got 2 light ales and proceeded to look for a table.  Since it was Valentine’s day (and McSorley’s in general) it was pretty crowded, but we were able to obtain a seat nuzzled up to some new friends.  Some time and several drinking games later, we began to make friends with several different groups, including a young ginger[1] who was dressed in a suit.  He was obviously a bit intoxicated, but he was nice and entertaining to the group.  However, by the end of the night when we went to leave, he got down on one knee, handed me his business card, and proposed. 

Needless to say, despite being humbly flattered, I declined said proposal.  After all, I could not let him make such a big decision after a night’s worth of drinking . . . and he had no ring. But, what made the proposal so much more memorable, is that my dear new fiancé, Jeffrey[2], was a blimp pilot.  Yes, you read that right, Jeffrey was a blimp pilot.  How many of those do you know? Not many, I am sure!  Jeffy, that is my pet name for this man I never saw again, had the best business card I have ever seen.  No, Patrick Bateman, it was not watermarked, but it did have a picture of Jeffery in a captain’s hat and a suit.  I have never seen a picture on a business card before, but it was quite entertaining.  That business card stayed on the door of our room for the next two years.  Clearly, he left quite the impression.  Jeffrey, if you’re reading this, wherever you are, I hope you had the gall to propose to another girl, and I am jealous.  You were the one that got away.

As if that were not a special moment that could not be topped, I received an additional proposal several years later.  One random Thursday in the spring a few years back, I decided to go meet my ironworker friends at a local bar after dinner.  The thing with New York City Ironworkers that I should point out before I start this story is that there are two main sister locals, 40 and 361[3].  While these two locals are sisters, they do have quite the rivalry between them.  Local 40 ironworkers have an air of superiority around them, and local 361 ironworkers just want everyone to get alone. Now that that’s out of the way, let the story commence.

Upon walking into the bar, I see my friends, a mix of both 40 and 361 ironworkers, and then see some unfamiliar faces that I know are in local 40.  One man sitting alone, of course, in the corner of the bar near my friends starts chatting me up.  He is bald, shaved head, except for a patch on the back of his scalp that has been fashioned into a shoulder length ponytail.  He has obviously been drinking for hours, as his slow speech can attest, his hands are filthy, and his arms are covered in tattoos.  After noticing I was the only attractive girl within grabbing distance in the bar, he decides to grab my arm, pin me in the corner, and converse with me about ironworking; my friends, brother and boyfriend at the time saw no problems with this . . . just free entertainment! This man, ladies and gentlemen, was Canada’s very own Chaz.  After this encounter, I started hearing ironworker stories about him all the time, about how he never wore a harness and would climb columns 15 stories in the air with his bare hands.  Chazzy is a legend, a madman, and a very proud local 40 journeyman. 

After listening to him put down Local 361 and assert Local 40’s superiority, I decided to rile him up a little.  He had a tattoo of the Verrazano bridge on his arm, which just so happens to be both Local 40 and 361 joint territory. Being the sassypants that I am, I decided to inform him that if he felt Local 361 was so insignificant, he should not have tattooed that half of the bridge on his arm.  This fact made him so angry (or turned on..still unclear) that he pushed me further into the corner, got closer into my personal space, and told me he likes my spunk.  He then proceeded to tell me he wanted to take me up to Canada to his reservation, marry me and bite the Achilles tendons off my feet so I could not run away from him. 

WELL, as if that was not the most romantic proposal ever, I still had to politely decline.  I have been a bartender for 8 years, and I have NEVER heard something more horrifying in my life.  Still, through all this creepy banter and my horrified expression, my friends (and BROTHER) did not step in.  Thanks a lot, guys!  I was only able to wriggle free from Chaz’s clutches after politely declining his proposal, saying I was already betrothed to someone else.  White lies that help protect people’s feelings aren’t really lies, right?  After that I pretty much booked it[4] out of the bar and never heard from him again.  I do still see him from time to time though, and we just make eye contact and smile at the one beautiful memory we have together; a brazen proposal to a terrified, sober girl.

While these may not sound like every girl’s fairytale fantasy proposals, these were pretty typical ‘day in the life of Gabrielle’ stories.  Ladies, whenever you’re out with your girlfriends and you feel there is some creep who just will not leave you alone, remember, there is always someone who has it worse.  And don’t worry, it is most likely me.  In this celebratory time of all my friends getting married, I have had a lot of time to reflect.  I could have been married by now! I could have been Mrs. Blimp Pilot or tendonless Mrs. Chazzy.  Did I miss my opportunity?  Will I never get another chance at true happiness?  Oh how I hope my next proposal can top these two trials of love.

Disclaimer: Please note that while this blog is 100% true, it is written in satire.  I am aware that they were not real proposals.  Unless you are reading this and want to propose to me in the same fashion, then it’s completely acceptable.  Call me, maybe?

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[1] Ginger: A person with red hair, pale skin and freckles.  ie-my favorite type of people!

[2] Yes that is his real name.  I can remember his ENTIRE name all these years later because the story was just that impressionable.

[3] Sorry, 46 and 580, but you gotta sit this one out.

[4] Booked it: Colloquialism.  Ran really really quickly

Round Peg, Square Hole.

Sometimes someone comes into your life and you think ‘This could be it.  This person is amazing!’ You click on every level, your thoughts/beliefs/hobbies/ dislikes, everything is the same.  You two seem to be on the same page in every sense of the word.  However, you notice after some time your relationship begins to disintegrate.  Now, this relationship does not need to be purely romantic, it can be friendship as well.  Something you once thought was so perfect and serendipitous is now crumbling around you with no real reason as to why.  Well, dear reader, let me let you in on a little secret; Life, in all of its glory, comes down to one driving force . . . Timing.

Timing is a cruel mistress.  You see, the universe can put you in front of everything you have ever wanted but if the timing is off, you best kiss that new prize of yours goodbye.  I am a firm believer of what’s meant for you will not pass you, but it is hard to believe in better things to come without succumbing to sounding naïve.  Letting go of things/people/relationships are difficult because you know what you are giving up but you do not yet know what you are getting, and the devil you know is better than the devil you do not know. 

Over the past year I have had several people I thought were key players step in and out of my life.  Hindsight and experience tell me that they were not.  Experience has also told me to go with my gut reaction and initial feeling when reading people.  While I am not saying to shut everyone new out of your life, but if your first take on someone is to not like them or not want them close, stick with that.  The more you force relationships, even if you think it’s giving them ‘the benefit of the doubt,’ the more you are going to drag out and prolong the inevitable.  Good things, of any kind but certainly good relationships, do not need to be forced.  They are good on their own, pure and effortless.  Sure, all relationships take work in one way or another, and nothing worth having ever comes easy; but if you’re finding that you’re forcing things or just going through the motions, then it’s time to reevaluate this new thing you found. 

Any time I have ever forced a relationship it has later came back to bite me.  Timing has a way of working out, one way or another.  While you think you may be losing this great amazing thing, in reality you are just being propelled into the life you are meant to have.  Don’t lose hope.  Don’t spend so much time wading through shallow, familiar waters.  People come into your life for all types of reasons, that does not mean they are meant to stay forever.  I am grateful for everyone I have met in my life, because they have helped get me to the amazing life I love now.   

But timing, timing never fails.  If you find someone suddenly out of your life, there is a reason.  Sure, maybe they will make a comeback down the line.  Maybe they are just a little lost at the moment and they will come to their senses and return better to your life, but they need to fight like hell to get there.  Trust the system, whatever is meant to happen will in fact happen.  At least that’s one of the pretty little lies I tell myself to get through the day. 

“When is it going to be your turn?” The tale of: ‘all of my friends are getting married.’

It has finally happened; I have come to the age where all of my friends are getting married.  This year I am going to 4 weddings, 2 of which I am in the bridal party, 5 bachelorette parties, and 6 bridal showers.  While I do love the honor of being in the bridal party and I do enjoy all of the festivities and weddings as a whole, I do not like the influx of questions. 

I have gone to weddings before, I have been in bridal parties before, both while I was in a relationship and while I was single.  However, this was in my youth.  What I am discovering now, in my mid-twenties, is that it does not matter if I am in a relationship or not, I will get inundated with questions.  Last Friday kicked off my first wedding for the season, in which I was a bridesmaid.  Despite going to the wedding alone, happily, and being single for months [again, happily], the question of the night was “when is it going to be your turn?”  Thus starting the theme, ‘let me find someone for you.’

Let me just stop everyone there.  Going to a wedding alone does not mean you are lonely, unhappy or on your way to being a crazy cat lady, the same way going to a wedding with a date/significant other does not mean you are happy and on a path to marriage.  While I do not mind other people ‘keeping an eye open’ for potential matches for me, I do not need people blindly setting me up.  I am not a fan of people just setting me up because well “he’s single and you’re single!” Oh, the commonalities! 

That apparently is the age in which I currently find myself. Everyone is wondering when I will get married and pitying my singledom.  Thank you for the pity, but I have a great job, a beautiful apartment I own, amazing family and pretty amazing friends; no need to pity.  And while I do not think I am close to becoming the crazy cat lady I may or may be destined to be, everyone’s haste and alarm to get me married off is starting to alarm me. 

I find the idea that people need to get married by a certain age not only ridiculous but also disconcerting.  Settling down is not the same as settling.  I repeat, settling down does not mean you have to settle. The fact that people hit a certain age and start getting asked the same questions I have found myself in a sea of, can be a little saddening.  But it is not a reason to throw yourself into the next relationship opportunity that presents itself just because you are scared.  Sure, maybe you will get married, maybe you won’t, but shouldn’t it be for the right reasons so you only have to do it once?  

You should get married for love, because you found your counterpart that makes you feel whole.  Someone who awakens every part of your being, makes you a better person and not only understands but loves all your quirks and annoying habits.  This person should bring out the best in you and you in them.  You should not just get married because you are lonely and are afraid to die alone.  Let me let you in on a little secret, everyone dies alone.  What you want is someone to go through life with, and life is a pretty long time! You should wait to find the right person instead of just rushing down the alter with the first shmoe that comes around promising you nicer tomorrows.

That’s how I feel, anyway.  So, to all the people that ask when it’s going to be ‘my turn,’ I will let you know once I meet someone who is worth spending forever with.