5 Thoughts for the Weekend

1. I won the racial humor contest this weekend with my girlies. I won it with this one, which I busted out five minutes after they arrived: "Em, look, I put the Barack Obama book on the nightstand so that you Black folk would be comfortable in my home."

Though, if you were going for my vote, Em would have won it with this line, "Tell that boy not to upset you this week. Your minority friends are in town."

2. There are holes in this journal from the last eight months. Have you noticed? There are no entries about my birthday, or about the Super Bowl. There's nothing about St. Patrick's day. Or New Year's. Or my trip to Pittsburgh last November. And there are other, non-holidays that were beautiful and important and there's nothing in here about them. It's like those days didn't even exist. And I guess sometimes when you ask somebody to pretend over and over again that the good parts of something aren't there, eventually they start to believe it. I wish I had entries about some of those things right now, because it's getting harder and harder to believe that they ever happened.

3. I'm rewatching The Intruder right now. Somehow, avant guard French film doesn't work as well on dvd. But still beautiful.

4. Today, I arrived home and there was no loud hip hop playing in my home. Nobody was yelling at somebody. Nobody was screaming at T-Mobile over the phone. I could sleep in my own bed. I didn't have to fight through five flatirons and ten dirty washclothes to get to my toothbrush. Nobody stumbled in drunk at 5am. I didn't have to count all three cats to make sure nobody had accidentally let them out during the day. And you know what? For about an hour I was really happy, and then I started to miss my girls.

5. I'm making a decision this weekend about taking an extended trip home to PA, like, for a month or so. I think I may just need my mom to take care of me right now. I think I clearly know right now that I am not going to get better on my own, and I don't really have the support system I would need here. There's part of me that knows that if I go back there for a month, I'll end up never leaving again. But there's another part of me that just wants to be home. I don't know. I'll meditate this weekend and see what I think at the end.

 

YES! Tales of Memorial Day Weekend

Honestly, mom, this is one of those ones where you're ahead of the game if you just stop reading now.

Given the givens of how I'm feeling, I was so glad to have the girlies in town last weekend. It helped take my mind off of things, and they were super understanding of the fact that I went home early most nights, and being around all of their positive energy was incredibly helpful in righting the ship. And here's the best part. Despite the fact that I missed out on a lot of "the fun" because I was, well, sleeping, I was around enough to share the three important stories, including the first one, which is about how we really managed to take Vegas, a place with no class, and sink it down to an entirely new low.

Chapter 1: The F#*k Room
Here are two sets of pictures of a hotel room. You will see that in set one, the room is exploding with clothes and makeup and weekend necessities. In set two, the room is pristine. Take a look.


Now, the logical conclusion to jump to is that these are simply before and after shots. The shots of the pristine room were taken when we arrived, and the shots of that Vegas hoochie battlefield were taken after we moved into the room.

WRONG.

These pictures are, in fact, taken almost simultaneously. They are rooms 951 and 955 in the Imperial Palace (because we roll both imperially and palatially). We rented -- and paid for -- both rooms. So, five girls, two beds, eight towels, two showers and two hairdryers, right?

WRONG.

This is how this worked out. The room you see where the hoochie battle is taking place is the room we ALL stayed in. That's five girls, two beds, one shower, one hairdryer, four towels. The room that is pristine? That's the F*#k Room. The logic being that at least one of us was going to hook up each night, and we'd need a room for that person to use. So why would we spread out and make ourselves comfortable and able to do basic things like use a mirror when we curled our hair when, instead, we could cram into one room at all times and leave the other room for some lucky girl each night?

And I will say, it was worth the money cause three out of five mamas (for the record, not me, not even close, I've never been so disinterested in boys on a night out in my life) got lucky, though not simultaneously in the same room, before you get all that excited.

Xtine even stocked the place with condoms, just in case.



And that twisted sista felt that the appropriate place for those condoms was next to the Holy Bible.



I told you we took Vegas to a new low. There's got to be an award for that.

I feel I best summed up the F#*k Room with this comment, "Ladies, perhaps we should worry about the mindset of a boy who enters the fuck room and doesn't run in fear immediately. His thought process when he sees that room SHOULD be, 'Huh. This girl just brought me back to her room, but there's no baggage, the bathroom hasn't been touched at all and there's a pile of condoms next to the Holy Bible. Shit, man, I'm about to straight wake up in the morning in a bathtub full of ice with one of my kidneys removed.'"

For the record, you can keep reading, but nothing will top what I've just told you. Probably ever. Even by us. We've now set the bar so high/low that we can no longer even live up to our own expectations in Vegas.

Chapter Two: Five Women at $1000 is $200 a Piece
Who did we love the MOST this weekend? It was our cab driver Bru. He was funny, he was engaging, he didn't mind the fact that we wanted to talk to him. And he tried to sell us for $1000 to some guys who'd just won a ton of money on the UFC fight and wanted some pretty ladies to come spend the evening with them at Paris. The guys, I kid you not, saw our cab driving by and flagged the cabbie down so they could come to the window and try to talk us into going to their VIP table at Paris with them. Very flattering, sure. But we were set on Mix and skylines and nobody was really in the mindspace to geisha it up. But Bru? Bru is a business man. He offered to sell us to those guys for $1000. No joke. I almost felt bad when we made Bru drive on. So I tipped him $10 on a $10 cab ride to try to make up the difference.

Chapter Three: That is Gay. And I Know Gay.
Here's a delightful picture of us and some crazy guys we ran into at Mix.



They were fun. I mean, obviously they were fun, look at how they were dressed. And we were talking to them about how they were dressed, and they said:

"Seriously, sometimes in Vegas, getting ready to go out is more fun than actually going out. We have a lot of fun getting ready to go out."

Gay. GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY. And I know Gay. I believe even that the namesake of this journal would confirm for you that never has a gay man said anything as gay as what this straight man in a ruffled shirt said to us. GAY.

And also, before I dispense with the weekend awards, a few notes for ya'll.
1. Tao Beach: So worth it. It makes the Pure cabanas look lame, and those are my favorite place in all of Vegas.

2. Why are people religiously waiting in that line at Pure? It's not worth it, folks. It's not. I promise.

3. I'm not sure I love Vegas nightlife as much if I can't drink, which I can't because of the antidepressant. We need to get off those soon.

4. It's okay to come dance on the catwalk if you're a larger woman, but you really need to not be rude and bump your shit into everybody else up there, almost sending several of us sailing off into the air. Come on, now.

Weekend awards!

Ms. KALM gets the best line dropped on you by a guy award.



While sitting, I kid you not, in the FOOD COURT at Caesar's, a guy cold walks up to KALM WHILE she's sitting with four other women - so the most intimidating rejection scenario possible - and says to her, "I don't know anything about you, but I can tell I want to know a lot more about you." And then (this guy was GREAT) when KALM actually makes a comment about how bold his move was (tm Ford), he says, "Hey, I'm doing the best I can with the circumstances I have." He was awesome. I'm really kind of sad that he's so not her type, because I was cheering for him.

Ms. Xtine gets the MVP award.



It was kind of a weird girls' weekend for us in Vegas. At least two of us were nursing physical illness. At least three of us were undergoing various degrees of heartbreak and relationship pain. Things were "up," but it honestly wasn't our usual explosion of energy. Anyway, at one point during the night, Ang was talking to the most adorable guy from North Carolina EVER and he was WAY into her. But he had a friend, so it was an awkward threesome situation. And Shadalan, KALM, Xtine and I were all just kind of chilling at a VIP table in Mix at the time. And so KALM is all like "Jos, go be her wingwoman. She needs one." And I couldn't rally to do it. And KALM couldn't rally to do it. And Shadalan couldn't rally to do it. And for ten minutes we all try to convince each other to do it. And finally, in the end, Xtine takes one and goes over and entertains the friends for what seemed like a really long time. A long time during which, instead of comfortably chilling at the table and enjoying the view and the VIP lounge, she had to stand in a crowd of people while wearing excruciatingly painful shoes. She's the MVP.

Ms. Shadalan gets the best breasts of the weekend award.



I mean, this isn't even so much a competition anymore if she's around. But what made it so extra special this time was this: We're walking out of the IP and as she passes him some guy says to her "That's a beautiful dress." Of course, he says it while staring directly at her breasts. And as we're walking away from him, I say to Shadalan, "By which he means those are beautiful breasts." And that guy actually went through the trouble to RUN across the ENTIRE IP casino floor to catch Shadalan before we left and say, "I just wanted to make sure you knew, I said 'dress.'" True story.

Ang wins the best outfit two nights in a row award.



And we all TRY, so that's an accomplishment. She looked SMOKIN' both nights. Which is probably why she also won the Stella Got Her Groove Back award. But we won't go into that.

And I'm going to go ahead and give myself two awards as well:
1. The Super Trouper Award: Ya'll, I did NOT feel well. I had bad nausea each night and a lot of fatigue issues, and I STILL rallied until 3am both nights. That is how much I love my girls and our time together.

2. The "I'm gonna rock this stupid hat for real, bitches" award. The look I was going for was, "You know, if you're white enough, you'll think I look all hip hop and stuff."

It was a good weekend. As always, thank you ladies!

 

Quote of the Week

Now that it's out in the open that I'm having some health struggles, I can share the most awesome thing I said last week.

"Honestly, things happen, and I don't know if I'm having an actual emotion, a depressive reaction to the medication or a euphoric spike from the antidepressant. It's like I'm not even walking around on the same planet as the rest of you.

I think my planet may be better."

Since we're talking about it now, I think the number one goal is to get off the anti-depressants. Those seem to be what's making me the most volatile and irrational, even though they're supposed to do the opposite. It's just that off them, and on this particular cycle of medications, well let's just say it's not very functional that way.

On Friday my blood counts had started to normalize, by which I mean an improvement of about 10%. At that rate, we could hopefully go med free by fall. I just need to be diligent.

Don't worry mom! Totally under control! I promise! And see how I'm actually saving us an awkward conversation by communicating with you about this here instead of calling you and then dodging questions? Awesome. Thank God for the internet.

 

Summer!

So, in my mind, summer officially starts after Memorial Day. And I've decided I'm going to have the singular most kick ass summer. Summer, for me, ends on September 1st when NFL season basically starts. And so I've made a list of the ten things I'd like to accomplish between now and September 1, and my strategy for accomplishing that. And we'll see. I'm already behind because, well, this happened.

Ash
Hey. Emma and Toni and I are coming out for Memorial Day weekend. Can we crash at your place? We're fine with floors and couches.

Me
No problem. I'm actually staying on the strip on Friday and Saturday night, so you'll have the place to yourself.

Ash
Cool.

And then, I went to pick girls up from the airport last night, and I looked at the flight itinerary I'd been emailed and realized that "We're coming out Memorial Day weekend" actually meant "We're coming out for a week around Memorial Day." Ever housed three twenty-one year olds in Vegas? Exactly. It's going to be a long week of teaching girls how to effectively manage a hangover. I'll be starting from behind already.

But anyway, my list:

1. Finish my entire summer reading list. That would include: The Audacity of Hope, the His Dark Materials trilogy, The Beautiful and the Damned and Tender is the Night. I think I can probably throw one more book on there. Suggestions welcome.

2. Finish all 50 copies of the Christmas craft project so that I don't have to stress about it once football season starts and I can give it the attention it deserves.

3. ENTIRELY finish both writing projects that I'm working on.

4. Finally complete the dress I bought material for almost four months ago. The shorts, too. I should just knock those out next week and get them done.

5. Have mine and Toni's new business venture running so smoothly that it's no longer taking up hours of my day.

6. Have Uganda AND my entire annual tax estimate paid for. Okay, that tax estimate one may not be entirely feasible, but I can get close by the end of the summer and then I can spend the rest of the year not having to stress about remembing to put that whopping 40% aside. That's a huge amount and it screws me every year.

7. Refinish my coffee table. I've been playing with ideas on it for a while now. It's time to sand it down and actually do it.

8. Clean my closet. It seems insignificant, but if you'vee seen how much clothing I own, you know it's not. And I keep putting it off because I don't like letting go of things.

9. Minimum 40 miles a week. We all know I start adding weight in the fall. I'd like to be entirely optimized to minimize that by September.

10. Get healthy. I know we haven't talked about the events of the last week here, nor are we going to start talking about it. At all. But we can say, and leave it at this, that my body pretty much gave up on me. I'd like to end the summer not needing any of the new and fantastic medications I'm on now. Because, aside from just wanting to be healthy, these new meds have some fantastic side effects. Like making it impossible for me to go more than two hours without a nap and making me so naseous that my food intake per day is down to about 1000 calories. Oh, and this week, we realized that I'll have to take an anti-depressent on top of the meds because the meds make me depressed. Awesome. This is probably best accomplished by removing sources of emotional stress from my life since my actual lifestyle is pretty healthy. And that's actually a harder thing for me to do than you realize. But I need to live a pressure free life for a while and I need to surround myself with people who will support that need, not layer more and more stress on top of me. Don't worry mom, I've got it under control.

"Wow, Jocelyn," you say, "That's a big ass list. How do you intend to accomplish that?" Well, I'll tell you. I'm going to employ the following strategies.

1. An organized attack plan. I've already documented milestones with all of these projects over the summer. In Outlook. Because I am anal retentive. But a good plan creates accomplishments. As the Pregame marketing team likes to say, "Fail to plan, plan to fail."

2. No WSOP: I mean, that's misleading, because I will celebrate WSOP month, but not like last year. Not with a party every night for three weeks and then a struggle to get out of bed the next day. This will be easier than you think since, because the US government wants to "protect" everybody from the evils of gambling, the WSOP will be half the size it was last year.

3. No boys. If you're not gay, happily married or on my staff, don't even bother. My head's not in the space for interacting with you to be anything other than unhealthy. By which I mean my heart is obviously somewhere else.

4. No Zelda. Okay, by which I mean less Zelda. But still.

5. No Summer TV: Which will be easy, since there's not much other than So You Think You Can Dance that interests me in the summer. Do you know that if you watched every episode of American Idol that was 51 hours of your life you'll never get back? More than two full days. I'm just saying.

So it's a plan. And I feel positive about it. And hopefully you all get a Christmas letter that points out that even though my M.O. this year was not supposed to be about kicking ass and taking names, it ended up being that anyway. Right on.

 

The Absolute Stupidist Thing I've Ever Said in an Interview

And I've had some big ones. But this morning I had to get up to do some east coast radio interviews about the final American Idol odds. By "this morning", I mean I had to get up at 4:15am because you'll notice that I said "east" coast radio and I live on the "west" coast. Which is my way of saying I said this stupidness because I wasn't all there.

Radio Talk Show Guy
So to win $10 on Jordin, I'd have to bet almost $60.

Me
Yep. And in my world, that's $60 better spent on six Elliot Yamin albums.

I'm so embarassed. There's no need to own more than two copies of that album.

 

Today's Conversations with Bon Bon

I listen to Bon Bon talk all day in the office. I could write a blog that was nothing but repeating things she says. Here are two more.

While listening to Elliot Yamin's "I Will Wait for You" while we work:

Bon Bon
You don't have to wait for me, Elliot. I'm right here. Just call me. 1-800-Pregame.

Me
I wonder if his tour is coming to Vegas. I'd go see that with you.

Bon Bon
It's not. I already checked his MySpace and it's not. But I left a comment asking why it wasn't and saying that he should.

Me/K-Rock
Oh. Um. What to say, really?

 

Also, One Quick Shoutout

Even though he made me get up at 8:00am today, I have the best lawyer in the WORLD. Thanks, dude. You just made my life a thousand percent more luxurious. Ha.

 

Three Monday Thoughts. My Head Hurts.

1. Screw You Grey's Anatomy: I don't even LIKE that show. I avoid it like the plague. McDreamy, McSteamy, Mc-I-Would-Kick-These-People's-Asses-In-Real-Life. But in a catch up maneuver, I watched the season finale. AND I CRIED LIKE A BABY OVER THE WHOLE WEDDING/NOT WEDDING STORY LINE. The vows that never get said. When he left her at the alter. The very last scene where she realizes that she's both relieved and sad that he's left her. BAWLING. And now, and now, I may have to watch next season to see what happens. Damnit.

2. Uganda, U Got Me: This is how this conversation rolled out.

Me to Lis
NO. I am not coming to Uganda with you. Not at that price tag, and not during football season. There is ZERO CHANCE that that is going to happen, so stop asking.

Me to My Mom
NO. There's no way I'm taking that trip to Uganda at that price tag and during football season. Think of all the places I SHOULD put that money.

Me to K-Yo
No way I'm going to Uganda. I have things I need to pay for with that money. NO WAY I'm going.

And then the following three things happened:
Lisa was relentless. I'd be sitting in the office reviewing a tracking report and suddenly an email would appear in my inbox with pictures of wild gorilla or girraffe or rhinos and a note from somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody who had been to Uganda about how amazing Uganda is. Last week? I heard about NOTHING but Uganda. Uganda, Uganda, Uganda.

My mom pointed out that the only thing that money can buy is a happy memory. We can discuss that financial role modeling later.

K-Yo pointed out that the other things I could use that money to pay for will always be there, but Uganda with Lis may be a once in a life time. And I've never been to Africa.

And before you know it, I'm checking the visa/passport situation, arrival and departure dates and immunization schedules. YOU GOT ME, OKAY? I'LL GO ON YOUR STUPID AFRICA TRIP TO SEE THE STUPID GORILLAS AND PROBABLY FEEL LIKE MY LIFE IS CHANGED FOREVER WHEN I GET BACK. YOU WIN.

3. Blake has beatboxed his way into my heart. And then this conversation today.

Me
Listen, I like Blake, too, but I really don't think you can make the argument that he *should* be in the final two.

Bon Bon
I don't care. I love him. And anyway, how many straight white guys have ever won American Idol?

Me
Oh, honey, honey, honey.

Bon Bon
What? You're going to point out that Taylor Hicks won last year?

Me
No. I'm going to point out that Blake Lewis cannot be a straight white man.

 

There's Wireless Here!

I'm purging the last six days from my memory entirely. That is all!

 

Notes on Being Thankful on a Random Evening

At the end of the night, he's brushing his teeth and I'm putting my hair up before bed. And we didn't do anything special that night. We tried to get to the mall to buy some shoes and a belt, but we got there just as everything was closing because he has a habit of almost perpetually running late -- A habit that would normally make me crazy but somehow rolls off of my shoulders with him, even though part of me really wants to train him out of it. So since it was already nine o'clock, we just went and sat outside somewhere where it was beautiful and green and near the water, and we drank well-mixed cocktails and talked about whether, in the long run, it was a bad thing for the continent of Africa that it didn't get completely overrun with European colonization in the 15 and 1600s, and Tijuana strippers, and we tried to see how many times we could use the words "impunity" and "anomaly" and "ubiquitous" in one conversation, and we role played what it would sound like if one of us tried to convince the other one of us that it would be awesome to attend a hugging party.

And it was peaceful. And then we went to bed. And I was really grateful for the evening. And that is all.

 

5 Thoughts for the Week

1. The Best Thing That Got Said This Weekend
"Girl, relationships are like birth control pills. If you think you're going to find one without a side effect, you're dead wrong."

This, of course, is only REALLY funny if you've been following my saga with birth control pills, which unless you are ToniK, K-Rock or Bonnie Bentley, you probably are not. I am not a fan of birth control pills. I haven't taken them, except for two short periods of about six months each, since I was in college. But, for various reasons we don't need to go into, I decided I would go back on them for the time being. This begins with my totally unreasonable conversation with my obgyn.

Me
I don't care what other side effects it has, but DO NOT put me on a pill where the side effect is weight gain. I do not want to gain a single pound from this. Not one pound.

OBGYN
I mean, is three to five pounds of water retention really going to matter to you? Come on now.

Me
NOT.ONE.POUND.

And so we, until this point, had tried five, FIVE, separate pills.

1. The first one made me break out like a 14 year old. Happy Thanksgiving 2006 to me. And while I'd said I didn't care about other side effects, clearly I did.

2. The second one apparently defined "some light spotting" as a full on period for longer than two weeks. This one was particularly enjoyable.

3. The third one made me vomit every morning for three weeks. But not only was there no weight gain, there was weight loss because I couldn't keep food down!

4. The fourth one was, I believe, everybody's favorite. It was the one that made me emotional and probably a little bit insane for the month we tried it. K-Rock, I'm sure, will confirm, that for several weeks, I would be sitting in the office looking at a spreadsheet or a logo comp or something and suddenly, out of the blue, for no reason, crying. And I am not so much a crier. I would have to get up and go cry in the bathroom, or some days cry while sitting in my car. And if you asked me what I was crying about, I had no answer for you. American Idol? Made me cry. My taxes? Made me cry. I mean, the list was endless. Crying. Constant crying. Momentary losses of connection with reality. Anxiety. Not good. Unpleasant to be around.

5. And then pill five, which seems to be a little miracle worker. I'm not acting crazy. My skin seems fine. No weight gain! No vomiting! No reduced sex drive so far (which has historically been a problem with me and birth control). The only side effect one month in is that my breasts have gotten tender.

And so, if you're enjoying this metaphor I'm spinning here, relationships are like that. Some will make you vomit, some will make you crazy, some will make you never want to have sex again, but in the end hopefully you'll find one that just makes your boobs swell a little bit. And really, what more could we all hope for?

2. Even Angels Have Existensial Angst
My goal for this month is to output lots of creative, well, output. When I make that my goal, there are often certain sacrifices that I have to make. For me, one of those sacrifices is not going out on Friday or Saturday night unless there is some super compelling reason to. I know me. If I go out on Friday or Saturday for "a drink", I may only have one drink, but I will get wrapped up in the "being out and about" and it will be well into the morning before I get home. Then it will be well past noon-thirty before I get up and my creative energy will be shot before it even gets started. So I look for ways to pass the evening hours that don't require me to be out, laying it down. So, lots of movies and books to talk about.

Saturday night I re-watched Wings of Desire, which I probably hadn't watched in five years and which is one of my favorite films. I mean, you know, I love Wim Wenders and Until the End of the World is my favorite, favorite film ever. And the very beautiful Solveig Dommartin is in this film, and she's also the protagonist in Until the End of the World, and in both movies Wenders kind of uses her to explore this concept he loves of "a woman gloriously alone in the world." And I always relate to that. Anyway, the film always gets me thinking about spiritual eternity versus physical transience. And it makes me want to go out and touch leaves and smell concrete, which is what I did on Sunday.

3. I also finished reading...
The Game of Silence by Louise Erdrich. She wrote much better before Michael Dorris died, but you still feel the nature in her writing, which is why we all love her so much, right?

4. I have stress.
I have lots of work stress, a little personal stress, and then lots more work stress. I also have six days this week where I won't be updating in an effort to chill and offload some stress. Just letting you know.

5. Here's a poetry meditation.
Except that it's not really a poetry meditation. It's the opening narration to Wings of Desire:

"When the child was a child, it was the time of these questions. Why am I me, and why not you? Why am I here, and why not there? When did time begin, and where does space end? Isn't life under the sun just a dream? Isn't what I see, hear, and smell just the mirage of a world before the world? Does evil actually exist, and are there people who are really evil? How can it be that I, who am I, wasn't before I was, and that sometime I, the one I am, no longer will be the one I am?"

 

I Drag You Down With Me

So, the question of the week has been "How much damage can a relationship take before it can't be salvaged?"

Let me set this to bed: I speak not only of my current sort-of-relationship. I speak also of other relationships in my life, and I speak of other people's relationships. Because "the hive"(tm RJ) this week has been discussing this extensively via email, chat, MySpace, phone, whatever. Which is funny because this other thing I'm writing on is about love that doesn't die no matter what. My headspace has had to shift a dozen times.

(And let me also say to warn you mostly about this possibly being a disjointed thought process, that, right now, I'm so busy that what's happening is that I write a paragraph of blog entry and then a paragraph of a business plan. It's not conducive. I'll try to do an edit before I post to make things stick together more).

So, I'm sure that, by now, being grown adults, we've all seen relationships that:

a. Suffered some trauma, decided to make it work, and in the end we were all happy that people found a way to make their relationships survive. We'll call this "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger syndrome."

b. Suffered some trauma, decided to make it work, and in the end we were all like "MAN, they should have just let go. They'll NEVER end up happy now." We'll call this "I'd rather be miserable than alone syndrome."

c. Suffered some trauma, fell apart, and both people ended up happier afterwards. Often, they even end up great friends. We'll call this "Sometimes the universe delivers even if it has to force it syndrome."

d. Suffered some trauma, fell apart, and then nobody ever really moved on and they stayed angry and hurt. We'll call this "What the fuck? Life is too short syndrome."

And of course, there are a lot of variations in between. The big variation is that, in lots of cases, one person experiences one thing and another person experiences another thing. But I'm trying to keep it simple.

Firstly, let us define trauma. Trauma is not, by my definition, "I want to change careers midlife." Or "I lost $500 betting the Super Bowl." Or "I called you a fucking bitch while we were arguing." Examples of "trauma" would be:
- I lied to you excessively in a malicious way
- I cheated on you, once or many times
- I lost our entire life savings gambling while not telling you I was spending it
- I've been hiding the fact that I have a drug problem from you
- Did I not mention that STD before we got together?
- I have, intentionally or otherwise, systematically controlled and berated you in a way that tore down your self esteem or caused you to lose all trust and confidence in me
- I cannot have children, though having children was always an understood part of the reason we were together
- I've committed a horrible crime and am going to jail
- More than 75% of all the time we spend together is spent yelling and crying over a thousand different issues over a time period of more than a year.

Listen, I didn't make any of those up. They're all real life examples from me or people I know.

What Doesn't Kill Us Makes Us Stronger Syndrome
So, somewhat obviously, because I am not married nor have I ever been in a committed relationship that lasted longer than five years, I have never personally experienced this. And before you email me (and you know who you are) and say "Well, you know me and I fit that category", let me just say that you may think you're in that category and I may think you're more like a person in the "Rather be miserable than alone" category. Anyway, I've never experienced this particular syndrome, is my point.

Now, that's also not to say that I don't know long term relationships and marriages that are awesome and that I really admire. And for all I know, those relationships have undergone some kind of trauma that I don't know about, because sometimes people keep things private even though that is clearly a foreign concept to me. I'm going to say that I doubt that because in most cases I know those people pretty well and have discussed relationships with them a lot and I think I would have been told if the relationship had suffered some huge trauma. The argument might be made that in relationships that are that strong, while all relationships have adversity, those people have great enough communication and desire to make each other happy that the type of things we're qualifying as trauma wouldn't happen. What I'm saying is that I have never experienced, nor have I seen, a relationship that suffers one of the types of things we've described above and ultimately goes on to preserve itself in a healthy, functional way. Please, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

And, this, this concerns me. Because above all else, I am a girl who makes decisions by the numbers. And, looking at my current situation, the numbers may imply that the odds are very much against me, and in a couple of cases, my friends, too.

I'd Rather Be Miserable Than Alone Syndrome
But I know lots of these! You probably do, too! In fairness, in some of these cases, it's more about wanting to preserve an entire family unit and that's a more difficult situation to ponder, but there are lots and lots of relationships I've seen where the M.O. is to stay together even if one person is miserable -- shit, even if both people are miserable -- just because of any number of fears. Fear of feeling rejected, fear of never falling in love again, fear of never having somebody else fall in love with you again, fear of being alone, fear of losing a safety net, fear of being financially impacted, fear of hurting the other person...fear. I mean, again, simplifying because I'm sure there are other reasons people stay in those situations, but to me, they mostly read as fear.

I saw this thing on tv once (You know you're about to get something deep when a sentence starts with "I saw this thing on tv once"). It was a documentary on a retired athlete. And he and his wife had gotten divorced but were still friends. And he said, "I never thought divorce was a good thing, but then one day I woke up and thought, 'Life is so short. Why spend it in a way that makes two people unhappy on a daily basis instead of putting them into a spot where they could find happiness?'" And that resonated with me.

I have this actual list somewhere in some journal about minimum values I assign to myself (which would be an awesome blog entry in and of itself). One of those is about not letting anybody else control whether or not I'm happy. Maybe, just maybe, this makes me a little ill-suited to relationships. But maybe if more people decided to take ownership of their own happiness they wouldn't feel like they needed relationships to make them happy, and they'd be more selective about choosing partners to enhance their happiness rather than feeling like they needed a partner to make them happy. I think I know relationships that work like this. I think I've seen them. But then again, I am not always privy to what goes on when people go home at night, so go figure.

In the relationships I admire most, both people want the other person to be happy so much that they wouldn't want the other person to stay in the relationship if they were miserable. They'd either find a way to make them happy or, if they just really couldn't do that, they'd find a way to let go. And maybe that's why I admire those relationships the most, because that's such a hard spot to get to.

But you know what's an even harder spot to get to? Recognizing when you're in a "Better miserable than alone" spot and moving out of it. Because it's pretty easy to convince yourself that you're not that miserable, or that things will change, or that issues have been caused by circumstances and not some essential flaw in your relationship, or that "it's not me, it's my partner and one day they'll wake up and make this better", or that this person really is THE ONLY PERSON YOU WILL EVER BE ABLE TO LOVE OR WHO WILL EVER BE ABLE TO LOVE YOU. Yeah, those are all hard headspace blocks to get through, and I know because I've fallen prey to them, sometimes for periods of years, before. I think, though, as an older, wiser me, I wouldn't be so prone to play the convincing game. Or give in to fears of letting go. But then again, I may be convinced that in some ways, in some circumstances, I'm doing that right now. This one's the kicker one, eh?

Sometimes the Universe Delivers, Even If It Has To Force It Syndrome
Could I have made that name any longer? Seriously.

I know this, too. In fact, I know a lot of this. In fact, this is pretty much all but one of my former relationships, if you don't count the former relationship in which the other party is no longer alive. D&J. S&L. S&P. I know lots of these. RJ and I, for example. While the six months before our breakup was, to say the least, incredibly painful for us and anybody around us, when we finally got to the part where we broke up, it was sad, but we had really discovered that while we love each other and want each other to be happy, that just was not going to happen in the form of being partners. And now we're incredibly close BFFs. And we're honestly both much happier. And we honestly want the other one to be happy. And we honestly make decisions based on that. And sometimes we still make each other crazy in the context of our friendship, but we're important parts of each other's lives and nobody discounted the two years we spent together and we found a way to translate that into something really good. Better, even.

And I just rattled off four examples of relationships that ended like this, even with some trauma involved. So, it can happen. It's the ideal, but it can happen. It should happen. Just, getting there involves a level of pain (like the first time you have to go out with your ex and his new girlfriend who is NOTHING like you- that wasn't great) and patience. But it is proof that in the right context, even things that ended with some trauma involved can lead to valuable relationships in your life. Some of the most valuable relationships in your life, probably. Just the process of getting there is awful.

What the Fuck? Life is Too Short Syndrome.
And, I KNOW we all know a lot of these, right? I've seen them. They're ugly. And while I've never been the party who won't let go of the anger, I've been on the receiving end of having somebody decide to never accept the way things are and find a new place to be in each other's lives and still be good for each other. I know people who, years and years into a new relationship, are still dealing with the hurt and anger of an old relationship's ending. And you know what? In some cases, I can absolutely understand that. Some damage is too deep to ever let go of. Some stuff messes you up for the rest of ever. Maybe not every day, but some of it never goes away. Yes. It's true. There are some things that are so awful they will probably never be let go of.

And then again, there are some things that aren't so awful, and in that case, you need to learn to say "Life's too short to feel this bad about things." And let go. But I've been in the room with exes before where they both walk in and people hold their breath waiting for the explosion, or one of them crying in the bathroom, or just feeling uncomfortable because they know that at least one of the two people is having a miserable time. It's a hard call, because I do think that some things, some times, are so bad that it's okay to never get over them. But then again, sometimes I think people choose to not get over things because being angry and hurt is, honestly, sometimes less painful than trying to focus on good things about past relationships and people and watching somebody else get happy while you're still dealing with the pain of the breakup.

And so here we are at math. And also, now we are clearly not talking about anybody's situations other than mine.

I have no interest in holding on to any kind of anger, distrust, hurt, whatever and falling into the "Life is too short, fuck it." category.

I have even less interest into falling into the "Rather miserable than alone" category. The problem being, of course, that I'm not sure I would be falling into that category anyway. There has only ever been one real problem in the relationship that's at the front of my mind. But it was a long-term and ongoing problem that was only addressed and solved when I finally ended the relationship. And then it was only done once it had been made abundantly clear that really, honestly, there wasn't a future with the circumstances the way they were. And of course, the argument could be made that "But at least it was done. At least in the end he cared enough to give you what you needed." But then again the argument could be made (and is certainly the one that I would be making to me if I were giving me third party advice) that the situation should have never have gotten that far. That, as Hil put it, it's been proven to me again and again that this pattern is a repeating pattern and I probably shouldn't expect it to change. OH SO CONFUSING. Remember above when I said that the key was recognizing when you're doing this versus when you're giving yourself the best chance to be in the ...

What Doesn't Kill Us Makes Us Stronger Club.

But math, right? Math! Who ends up there? Do you know anybody who ends up there? And how many people stay in the "Better Miserable Than Alone Club" rather than doing the hard work, the HARD HARD work to end up in the The Universe Delivers Even If It Has To Force It club out of fear, or hopefulness (and let's not even debate if hopefulness is the same as fear). How many people say "I'm not sure I'm not just staying in a 'better miserable than alone' situation. We really could end up in a 'What doesn't kill us makes us stronger' situation. It was only one problem. I know he loves me. I know I love him. There's no reason this can't work!" Even though we ALL know by this point how silly that attitude can be. On the other hand, love is what drives the world and we should try to find ways to honor it.

And so 2500 words later I have worked NOTHING out except to organize thoughts and get caught up in math. MATH of all things. And I should probably listen to KALM who wisely told me that to overthink is to sabatoge. But to underthink is to beg to stay in patterns that may or may not be good.

Arghhhhh! You MUST be as frustrated as I am right now. You're welcome. I will leave you with a haiku that sums this up, and also, email answering tomorrow, btw.

My problems would be
solved with five minutes alone
with Blake Lewis. Yum.

 

Totally Random - And Not in the Cool Lady Sov Way

I swear to God, I'm not in anyway feeling melancholy this evening. I'm actually in a good, good place. I had a great weekend with lots of good creative output. I got to talk to K-Yo and text with Di and the only person still on my "need to catch up" list is Roxie. And actually, by the way, I know we've been a little update light over here at ILovePaulJack lately, but I'm like moon. When I'm writing a lot on other projects, I tend to write here less. Plus I'm working some things out in my head that I'm not ready to write about yet.

That's all. I bear down and write later.

 

5 Random Thoughts on Wednesday

1. You know how sometimes you put two things together and it's like a little slice of heaven:
- peanut butter and chocolate
- diamonds and pearls
- lobster and butter sauce
- FUCKING BON JOVI AND AMERICAN IDOL

It was like an experience I cannot even describe. I literally cried tears of joy during just about every performance. And that includes the Blake Lewis performance. I'm sorry. You know I'm a BJ fan to the 10th degree, but I dug that Blake Lewis mix up. I dug everything. Even Jordin. Seriously.

2. And then, damn you Fox, you went with the tear jerker House episode when I was already emotionally primed from Idol.

3. I have been on a food binge like no other this week. This morning for breakfast? A box of tiny chocolate covered donuts, three cheese danish, two bananas, yogurt, coffee, one pound of red meat. Even my metabolism won't keep up with that.

4. I miss Pennsylvania already. But that may be because it's just a crappy work week.

5. I need more food. I'm going to Sonic.