Diamonds Never Die

I’m just the diamond they bring out and flaunt
Not allowed to stick around, only to be bought

Something to show off and flash to the world
The envy of most of the boys and the girls

My company is inviting and my mind so clever
When you claim me, you have me, but never forever

The boys all too careless and the men all too selfish
A guy who will hold me always, has always been my wish

I’m more than a diamond they want to show off
I’m a lover, a thinker, a fighter, a wreck and the boss

They smother, or smudge me, but can’t darken my shine
Diamonds are the hardest thing around, keep that in mind

"You can’t cry on a diamond’s shoulder, and diamonds won’t keep you warm at night, but they’re sure fun when the sun shines."
-Elizabeth Taylor

Next Time

The crazy ecstasy rolls for hours,
and you gasp for air as the feelings climb.
Joy explodes like blooming flowers,
the petals fall, I wonder if there is a next time?

Your eyes are powerful; they match your stem,
direct contact is deadly, because I’ll wilt in the end.

Our bodies wrapped around like ivy,
sprouting upwards, reaching towards the sublime.
The thorn in my side falls out and disappears
when you tell me you can’t wait for next time.

One Way Ticket

These days it seems like each time I walk in my front door a housemate is either stepping out, moving out, or leaving on a jet plane. While I on the other hand feel like I'm deserted on a barren island that strangely resembles my city block. But with everyone around me vacationing, or leaving entirely, I have had some extra social time to find my love passport and start getting some new stamps in it. But dating, just like traveling, can be exhausting and more tiresome then originally recognized. Both are always romanticized into being great and luxurious, like a 1950's American Airlines advert where all the men wear tailored suits and all the women look like Grace Kelley. Damn, was that a lie. The reality is, dating is a lot more dangerous then flying. I'd take grouchy security guards with their beeping wands over talking to a stranger at the bar any day. Every time we decide to go out on a date, or agree to get a drink with someone, or ask someone out for dinner we are buying a one way, non-refundable, ticket to a destination we aren't aware of. Dating, or seeing someone, is like an impromptu flight purchase without the free peanuts. Or the hot towels. The idea is so risky and crazy and absurd; wanting to get closer to a complete stranger. It's comparable to blasting ourselves into the friendly skies and hoping we won't fall out of them. We fly all over the place, with our love passports in hand, hoping that the destination we reach is love. Or romance. Or good sex. But dating doesn't come with a parachute underneath your seat, or an inflatable life preserver. Dating is either smooth sailing, or plummeting to the ground at an alarming rate while desperately trying to slip the oxygen mask over your mouth. A life of lonely, solo train rides is sometimes appealing. But there is too much about flying that we just can't give up. The excitement you get when making a ticket purchase, the fun of deciding what to pack and what to leave behind, that butterfly feeling in your stomach when you lift off. When it's a good flight, you feel amazing. You're thousands of feet above reality with your head in the clouds, and nothing bad can touch you. You're secure in the arms of your lover, enjoying the in-flight entertainment, only worried about how to recline your chair. Sometimes you touch down in an exotic and lovely destination, other times you simply disembark and go your seperate ways. And then sometimes you crash land in the middle of the ocean and fight to keep your head above water. The fact of the matter is, you're more likely to get killed in a car accident on the ground then die in the air....or something like that. I've been flying all over the place lately. Vacationing in New York. Having business lunches in Iowa. And I've recently started making day trips to California, and Michigan. Despite my frequent flyer romance miles, I can't help but still feel that I left my heart in New York. Or rather, with my New York Sweetheart. I was so jet lagged this past weekend my brain still doesn't know what time it is, and my heart hasn't found it's normal rhythm yet either. I guess, for the time being, New York is more like a travel companion; because our destination keeps changing and becoming something new and something else. I can barely keep up, or afford the tickets. And since I can't rely on New York, I've been booking other flights left and right, trying to put emotional miles between me and the big apple of my heart. But, just like that fucking song says: I wanna be a part of it, New York. New York! I think I view New York as first class seat material, but in his book I'm just business class. Obviously, because of his "special someone" who he says is his copilot. But my passport has had "NY" stamped all over it recently, and I wasn't even booking the flights. Sometime soon I need to analyze my flight patterns, but for the time being I'm too jet lagged to think. Plus, New York is so hot in the summer. If you catch my drift. So, we continue to clutch our carry on bags to our chests hoping that the next ticket purchase will be our last. Not because we go down in a fiery ball of melted fuselage, but because we finally reach a destination that is worth throwing out our love passport for. Until then, enjoy the free peanuts.

"Hold me like you'll never let me go, cause I'm leaving on a jet plane." -J. Denver

-A Life In Boxes

I tend to like knowing where things are. I like being able to find things quickly, I find it useful to have things organized and in their place. This also tends to help me because I seem to be five minutes behind schedule a lot of the time, so not having to search for things makes life easier. I’m not some OCD clean freak, but I definitely support cleanliness and organization. Does my room look like a Gap store? No, but I do have a general idea as to where all my jeans are. Is my bookshelf alphabetized and in numerical order? No, but I can find my favorite book in under twelve seconds. I like avoiding messiness, it seems to make everything flow. To me, having things in their place is like having a good roll of packing tape; it is easy and you avoid wasting time and getting your hands stuck. Otherwise you spend six minutes just trying to find where the tape begins and then wrestling with it to not rip or stick to the box and not to your hand. Having recently moved my entire life from one side of the city to the other, I have gotten very familiar with both boxes and packing tape. I also found out you can bungee cord a mattress to the roof of your car, drive sixty miles an hour and not get arrested. But during the transition from one house to the other my system was royally flunked. Nothing was where it was supposed to be; instead my life was in boxes. I am not willing to admit to how many days I was forced to wear the same pair of boxers, but let’s just say it was more then what is GQ recommended. During this boxed in boxer time I began to think about all the other ways it pays to have organization in our lives. Not only does it save us time while we run out the door, but it also saves us from running in romantic circles.

Appreciating a system and liking to know where things are is not only applied to my bedroom or my bookshelf, it is also applied to my love life. I’m sure you need a minute after having read that surprising tidbit of shocking information….alright, back to the words. I know it seems pointless, but I like having a plan when dating; it’s like the roll of tape. Think of how efficient and timely everything happens when the tape is properly used, and then think about all the time wasted when it is a mess and you can’t find the beginning or the end. It pays to be organized. I have almost reached the point where I would just like to start handing out dating note cards that have simple questions that can be answered by checking the “yes” box or the “no” box. Again it comes back to the boxes. It seems to be impossible to have any kind of organization when it comes to dating, very rarely are things where they should be. Between the baggage, the boxes, and the boxers who has time to play games?

I know that you can’t control everything in your life, and I honestly don’t want to. Some days you don’t even want a system because it has begun to make you feel boxed in. Some days the system and the organization is the only thing that keeps you going. Thank you Bree Van De Kamp and Catherine Mayfair, you teach us so much. But I am beginning to realize that having organization in your closet, in your bookshelf or in your bedroom is helpful because most of our time is spent organizing our relationships. If you don’t know where your toothbrush is, that’s an inconvenience. Not knowing the difference between like you and like you, that’s a problem.

So, you can sort your sock drawer, tape your keys to your desk, you can even bungee a mattress to your car; but will we ever be able to have organized dating? It seems that dating is the one thing you can not have a system for, and you can like that or you can like that. The decision is all yours.

-Rinse and Repeat

This cold, windy weather has got to stop. I am absolutely fed up with it. You think the sunshine would help but really it just makes it worse. You begin to think that the temperatures might actually start being above sub-freezing-too-cold-to-sit-on-the-toilet-cold, when all of the sudden your sprawled out on the concrete because of a patch of black ice. Yes, very funny mother nature; I hope you’re getting a nice laugh out of this one. And I hope global warming treats you a lesson real soon, you climate controlling hussy. Really though it is not just the temperatures that have got me in a fix; but it is the side effects that they produce. For instance, all the dry skin due to the temperatures and wind. That is very frustrating, when the temperatures dictate how many times a day you should wash your hands, things have gone too far. Remember when bloody knuckles meant sliding quarters at each others hands, and now it means you need some moisturizer and thicker gloves. Oh how times have changed. But it’s not just the hands that suffer, my head suffers too; or rather my scalp suffers. Between the constant combination of being stuffed under baseball caps, scooped up in beanies and washed and dried in under heated bathrooms I do believe it has surrendered; and to let me know it has done so it has sent out the white flags. The remedy for this problem: time, patience and good shampoo. Having last bought shampoo the first time Britney made a comeback, I was surprised to find out just how many options I had. Shampoo has its own complete aisle, the same amount of room that is given to a years worth of hot pockets is passed out for Pantene, given to Garnier, divided amongst Dove and shared by Sunsilk. Nellie Forbush would be stunned. Apparently shampoo has directions as well, besides just the basic “rinse and repeat”. These days you have to put on pre conditioning gel before you shampoo and post moisture crème after; anyone else fighting the urge to buzz it all off?
Drastic measures might seem like a quick fix and a right now remedy, but regret can linger in the air longer then the winter chill. Plus if directions that simple have lasted so long it has to be for a purpose. There is a certain rhythm that flows from the idea of rinse and repeat, the simplicity of it can be applied elsewhere in life. Dating is a good place to apply this two step process. Much like the weather, dating can be chilly and severe. It can often dry you out, make you want to stay in doors and even send out white flags. It might even be so bad that sometimes you want to do something drastic: like buzzing your hair, buying and consuming two pounds of watermelon jelly bellies or swearing off dating entirely. But as stated before drastic measures are just that, drastic and unproductive. So what to do when suffering a cold patch in the dating game? Rinse and repeat. Simply wash it out of your hair, and send it on its way. Rock it out of your roll call and drum it out of your dreams. Honestly, these kinds of things happen every day; no need to be so dramatic about it. Get the picture?
There aren’t a whole lot of options when it comes to alternatives. That is of course unless you want to end this habit to take up another. But not all of us look good in black and white. So we are forced to wash ourselves off, fix ourselves up and go out and do it all over again. It might be successful, it might be disastrous, but what else are you going to do but repeat. There is no point in just rinsing. So whether you are stuck in the windy Midwest or sitting in the sunny South Pacific, when it comes to dating all you can do rinse and repeat as needed.