The Holiday Blues Relapse

Singles Awareness Day. Also known as Valentine's Day. The one day of the year that couples get to swoon over each other because some guy named Valentine died for people's rights to marry during a time of war. I love that they teach that in school. Then we forget that fact immediately after because that's not what Valentine's Day is about! It's not about celebrating a man that was martyred for couples everywhere. Apparently, no holiday is about the martyrs that sacrifice themselves so that we can spend entirely too much money on each other, I mean celebrate our love for each other. These days the holiday's are about people spending an exorbitant about of money on each other. But this day especially, is about buying presents and chocolate and flowers and mad crazy displays of public affection that will make the closest single person gag. It's a month long holiday relapse for the single person.

Just when you were settling into the new year, beginning to once more feel comfortable in your singlelarity, February rears its ugly head. Now it's another month of wondering what's wrong with you because you're the only person NOT celebrating Valentine. Wait. Scratch that. You're the only one ACTUALLY celebrating Saint Valentine. That wonderful helpless romantic Saint! Set of Saints? Did you know there were many a Christian martyr named Valentine? Did you know that the Saint we celebrate is a myth and a legend and not entirely founded in fact? Did you know it's just one more story Christian's told to "Christianize" a "pagan ritual"?* Did you know I was raised Catholic? But I digress, what else is new?

Where was I? Singles Awareness Month. S.A.M. Singles Holiday Blues Depression Relapse Month. One more month of friends and family kindly reminding you're still not mated, and then asking you why this is so. You had a whole month and a half to find someone before this day arrived, why didn't you? As if it were that easy! If it were that easy, you would have been mated during the actual holidays instead of moping around like a love sick puppy.

So tomorrow, while the world celebrates each other and their ability to have found a significant other, you, by you I clearly mean I, shall celebrate the fact that after tomorrow there isn't another romantic holiday for months. Also, summer is coming. Couples may get Winter, Spring, and Fall, but Summer is for the single. Get ready to mingle singles our time is coming!!!

Then again you're reading the rant of a hopeless romantic cast into the world of singleness by choice and being entirely too picky about the people she chooses to date because of a refusal to settle.

*Did you know I did most of my research WHILE I wrote this and the questions came from a place of my mind being blown by the "facts" or LIES my teachers told me and continue to tell our youth. My world is shattered!**
**KIDDING!!!

These are the websites I checked: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valentine's_Day and http://www.history.com/topics/valentines-day 

As you can see I used more than one source and they are both ever so credible. I trust The history Channel, don't you?

Pick up lines

Pick up lines

I tire of your humor
I tire of your show
I’m sick of all the stupid knowledge
You always seem to know
I’m done with all the criticism
Flowing from your throat
I feel that it’s important
To require that you note
Your irritating manner
Will cause me to reject
All your lame advances
To get my number set

More Dessert

Where we left off:

“Well I imagine your thoughts are worth getting lost in.” Then he smiles this boyish smile like he couldn’t believe he had just said that and now I’m completely captivated.

“Yeah, maybe not as interesting as you might think.”

“Try me”

“Don’t you have a final to study for?”

“Actually I’m a T.A. I’ll be giving the final not taking it but I’ve seen you here before and,” nervous laughter, clearing throat? “I guess I just - I mean -“ Shall I just put you out of your misery? I smile as he fumbles for the right words. 

“You know I could use a cup of coffee, do you know a good place around campus?”

----


He did, he knew a few actually which made my life a little difficult because I'm indecisive. But it was cold so I picked the closest one. He lied and said it was his favorite but it didn't matter because I was caught up in his gorgeous. The uncertain way he pulled at one of the straps of his backpack. The awkward way he put his hands in his front pockets and hunched over. The decisive manner he ordered his drink. It's strange how he can be that confident and act so unsure of himself at the same time but I was hooked. His dark hair framed his face well and a strong well structure face it was. I could have beautiful babies with this man.

"What did you want to drink?", he asked.

"Oh, do they have chamomile?" I said that as if I was being snapped out of a dream. Geeze, why is it so hard to focus when I'm staring at you?  Honestly, why did I ask for coffee when I prefer tea? Don’t get me wrong, I'm very proud of you, Mara. Way to think on your feet and come up with that so quickly but you don't even drink coffee anymore.

“They don’t have chamomile but they have this calm tea, its pretty good. How does that sound?”

"Yeah, the calming one is fine too. It's basically the same thing, right? Yeah that's fine. Thanks!" Naturally, I fumble through my bag to find my wallet and pay but he's already paid. "You didn't have to do that. I could have gotten it."

"It was like three dollars, not a big deal. You can get the next one if it means that much to you." Then he smiles this devious little smile as if to say; you could try to pay next time but I'd never let you. He lets that sentence hang on the corner of his mouth for a while. Mostly because he doesn't even realize it's there. I don't tell him. I like how it lingers on his face. Like a kid trying so hard to keep a secret.

“Well thank you. I’ve got the next one for sure.” I won’t pop his bubble but I will let him know I’d like to see him again. 
He leaves to get our drinks and when he comes back we pick up the conversation where it left off. We don’t even skip a beat. We were discussing literary quality in today's newest novels, or shall we say lack of quality. I'm not even sure if I remember his name at this point, but his voice is soothing. It sits in the lower register and hums. Definitely a baritone but not Barry White lulling you into his bedroom deep. It just has a distinct manly quality to it. How do his students stay awake? How do the girls focus? What was his name? Ian? Aidan! Aidan something... 

It's about time I stopped staring and interject. I'd hate for him to think I wasn't paying attention, or worse aloof 
"I love that movies are taking inspiration from books these days but it's starting a literary trend of 'made for screen production books' instead of noteworthy novels. When was the last time you read a book that was thought provoking and not just provocative or heart wrenching?"
Hurray for multitasking. Do other people do this too? I can’t even remember the last time I spoke to a stranger for this long and had the conversation flow so well – except – he had stopped talking. I hate when that happens it’s like someone suddenly put a spot light on you and then the sweat happens and that’s just not cute “What?”

He’s staring at me like - like I’m cheesecake that hasn’t quite set yet but he’s willing to wait patiently.

“Nothing, you’re just adorable. How do you fit in that chair like that?
 He was referring to the way I brought my legs into the chair Indian style and still fit perfectly in the armed chair. I cupped my tea in both hands took a sip and allowed them to settle in my lap. "I don't know it's easy."
He scoffs at the idea of it being easy for him and proceeds to attempt the inconcevable.
"Please, stop!" We're both laughing hysterically at this point and he's still trying to fit himself Indian style in the chair. In between laughter i manage to say, "Oh my goodness you're going to hurt yourself. Stop." Then as if we had been friends forever, as if the motion wouldn't mean a thing, I involuntarily reached out and placed my hand on his knee to make him stop. He let his hand cover mine and our eyes locked. This is cheesecake, God give me patience to let it set this could be the best dessert yet.

A short rant to "unwelcome visitors"

Dear what seems to be now weekly unwelcome visitors,

Please stop trying to save me. Stop trying to convert me. Stop telling me that we should all think, pray and worship the same way. If the God you believe in wanted us to be machines with no free will, he would have created such beings. Instead, there are more beautiful creatures in the world WITH free will and the freedom to believe and worship in anyway they see fit. As long as the foundation of that belief is not to harm others or destroy the world, why do you care how others practice or what they believe in? People are entitled to have their own faith. You are NOT entitled to tell others that, that faith is wrong. Please stop quoting your bible to me, I don't know the verses and honestly you've twisted them to mean what you want them to mean. Just go. I don't need saving. I've already been saved. Someone died on a cross for me and nothing you do can compete with that. And I didn't have to deserve that sacrifice. It was given willingly. Someday I hope to have the opportunity to thank him. So, goodbye. Have a great day. Good luck.

--Greey 

Okay, just because it's 2012 and YOU think the world is going to end does not give you the divine right to suddenly show up at my door step every week and SAVE me. I might be struggling with my religion but I still have my own convictions. I have my own faith and I'm entitled to them.

This guy says everything I want to say.


 

To the BOY I met last night

This is just a short rant because I thought about it and it upset me again. To the BOY I met last night. You have NO right to stand there and tell ME that I have no standard JUST BECAUSE I wasn't living up to your expectation of a "hipster". Who the hell told you I was a hipster in the first place? I live by MY OWN standard because I am MY OWN person. An ORIGINAL. But I guess you're just not used to meeting intelligent WOMEN with their own opinions and a good arsenal of words to express them. You're so accustom to GIRLS throwing themselves at you trying to sucker you into buying them drinks that when you meet a woman that doesn't want anything you have to offer, you're offended. Sucks to be you.

--Greey 

So let me tell you more about this night. First of all what an adventure. Meeting up with someone you don't remember being friends with in high school at his friend's birthday party is interesting. I knew I was poised to have an interesting night no matter what. I wasn't expecting there would be such a difference in social norms when crossing "social boundaries" AFTER high school. OR I thought "social boundaries" were a thing of high school. I didn't realize people took that with them for the rest of their lives.

White Lies and Alibis

I don't know if you realize this but I loved that workshop! We had to write two pieces. The first was that "interview poem". Mine was about Ben. You've met him. The second was called the "beneath the surface poem" in which we were supposed to talked about something we didn't want anyone to know. My problem was that I'm pretty much an open book. No shiz right? I'm mean I blog about my most embarrassing dating fails OF COURSE I'm an open book! However, there's always more to the story. I wonder if anyone can catch it? And then I wonder if anyone saw it before reading this. Also, I wonder if it'll shatter the facade? DOUBTFUL!

White Lies and Alibis

Ask me anything, I'll tell you
Tell you elusive
Shadowed details
Speech specific you think me open
open armed
open heart
open book
Open to the public

Ask me anything, I'll tell you
What you want to hear
What you need to hear
To see me
see me Martyr
Saintly
Phoenix rising from the ashes

Ignore the ashes
Soot stained roots
Ignore the roots

Ask me anything, I'll tell you
With smiles for miles and miles
Anything to keep up the distraction from the main attraction

Woman collapsed
Broken on the floor
Problems heaved under the carpet

Just ignore the lump
What a pretty rug!

LOOK!

I hope you didn't see her stumble
Frantically diving
Shying off to the side
All insecurities must hide!
Don't worry it was just a stumble
A flesh wound
I'll call the cleaning crew

Ignore her weak
Ignore her screaming behind the walls she's built
Forgetting her need for air
for comfort
for love
Forgetting her needs

Seriously, ask me anything,
Let me steer you a bit askew
So you won't see the difference in hue
It's the same picture
Same amount of words
Just slightly different words

Tragic sounds better as triumphant
Victim is survivor
Pain and loss are obstacles
You know the drill

But ignore the double speak
That's not what you came to see
You came to see me
Happy.
Content.
Satisfied with the path my life has taken.

So take it in,
I'll tell you anything.
To see you
see you proud
See you satisfied that the torch can be passed along
So you won't have to stand so strong

I'd love to see you rested.
see you comforted
With that sigh of relief
Finally, you're not alone
The burden can be passed to her.
The machine I built to take on the task immense
With heart of steel; resolve of stone.

A meticulously constructed puppet
With a saccharine smile that beguiles
Uploaded stories with just enough variance as to not sound practiced
The show is well rehearsed
Proper distractions have been set in place
Rest assured that everyone has been duped

The puppet stands at the entrance
They stand distracted
She tells them anything

Tells them stories
Has them eating out of the palm of her hand, enthralled
So captured they don’t even realize the thinly veiled disguise
She stands there singing till the truth is marginally less than slightly off tune
The melody is gripping
The harmony riveting

They are sold

I am resting, or hiding
Between the lines

But I am made up
With smoke and mirrors
Pretty words
Expensive frames
Lullabies
And lots of white lies and alibies

BEN

Okay, not only did someone write something about me in the workshop I wrote about someone from the workshop. It's funny because someone thought that I might have feelings for this person after reading this but I don't. I do, however, want to get to know him. If you've ever met anyone that just makes you want to get to know them but won't let you in then you know what I mean. Anywho, since I posted what someone wrote about me I thought I'd post what I wrote about someone else. ENJOY!

Meeting Ben

How did I meet Ben? You know that moment in Hook when the lost boy searches grown Peter’s face for the young light hearted Peter they once knew. The one where he shuffles his face around and find’s him in a smile. “Oh, there you are Peter!” It was like that.

I asked him half of 20 questions to which he gave half of 20 answers and I shuffled them around trying to recreate the picture. The interview on the couch where we seemed to connect and become, at the very least, acquaintances; but then I heard him speak. Heard him create emotion and – there you are, Ben. And there you had been this whole time.

Ben/been the small town boy with big soccer rock star dreams. Well respected professor, statistician and now poet although he isn’t sure yet. He’s Ben/been wondering how morals strictly taught can be practiced so loosely. Hoping to practice what he preaches but isn’t sure if he believes it. Thinking they can’t see this. Ben/been marathon running from one accomplishment to the next, adding yet another page to his already extensive resume. Realizing he’d much rather be free running from one moment to the next, filling his living room with pictures to prove that he actual lived, instead of living in an empty room less decorated than a tomb.

There he his, learning something different everyday adopting and adapting to whatever comes into play, celebrating the suck the whole way. He knows he’s not perfect in any way. And like his most recent tattoo he’s Ben/been trying to break out and break through to this whole new Ben/been trying to break out and breakthrough in this whole new space where he can break down to break through to the deeper side of you. And I’m glad he still carries his big boy soccer rock star dreams with him but I think he’s going to take on a different stage and do it with a page.

Because there was Ben, using words skillfully spun into gold to tie itty bitty knots to the deepest parts of my heart. Tugging ever so gently at first this thread to create the mood and then that thread slowly weaving a tapestry of raw emotion, and before I know it Roberta Flack and Lauren Hill are singing in my ears. Somehow he found my letters and read each one aloud. So I went out and found the back door he created to sneak in and tie those pretty little knots, but instead of sealing it shut I labeled it BEN since only he knows how to open it.

And that’s how I met Ben.

Answering half of 20 questions and telling me not too much about himself. He’d have rather given me folders framing accomplishments and diplomas then bid me read his resume. But folders can’t make a man like a story can. Resumes don’t explain someone outside of interview and though that’s all this was to him, I asked for pictures. Not picture frames.

Which is all I got until he read that day. He turned answers into puzzle piece and put the corners in their place. I dumped the rest on the floor next to his door and I’ve been waiting for him to turn frame into picture again but I don’t know if he intends to. Still, I wait.