-Let It Settle

Want to know something I love? I love having milk and cookies while standing up in the kitchen, leaning over the sink or the counter top. Want to know something I really don’t like? I really don’t like it when the cookie crumbs settle at the bottom of the cup of milk. It just ruins it for me. Enjoying some delicious coconut crèmes or maybe some almond sandies, and then finishing the milk only to be greeted by a mouthful of soggy cookie mush. It’s like what backwash would taste like if you were splitting a bottle with the Cookie Monster. It’s such an unpleasant way to end the milk and cookies experience, and there is no way of avoiding it. If anyone ever figures out how to dunk a cookie without bits of it getting into the milk, please let me know. And it’s not like you can just dump the milk out, how could you ever waste such an amazing drink? Plus you can’t have a cookie without some milk; it just goes against the natural order of things. The mouse didn’t ask for cranberry juice, or a mimosa, after he was given a cookie. No, he asked for some good old fashioned moo juice. Now if there was a way to dunk a cookie in milk and have the crumbs get caught by some sort of straining device, now that would be lovely; but something tells me that much effort might diminish from the simplicity and excellence of milk and cookie time. So, maybe, sometimes you just have to put up with settling. But when you aren’t standing over the kitchen sink, it’s hard to tell what you should and shouldn’t settle for.

Having spent more then my fair share of time in the kitchen lately, whether it be for cooking, eating or cleaning up after everyone, I finally got back to running again. It has been one of those things I kept saying I was going to get back into. Like finishing the great American classics. Or trying to sit through Citizen Kane. Or remembering how to conjugate a verb in Spanish. But I felt like I was cheating myself if I didn’t actually make time to go running. I’ll admit I first had to quit smoking, which made me a complete annoyance to be around, but once that was out of my system I was free to run. It didn’t take long for my old competitiveness to kick in. Not towards the several other neighborhood runners who I usually pass, but towards myself; I am my own worse track coach. Or track Nazi as it were. I can’t seem to let myself settle for anything other then balls to the wall long distance running. I wanted to get back into it all slowly, start with an easy afternoon jog, but then my brain remembered that it solemnly swore to never jog but only to run. Needless to say, forty minutes later I was soaked in sweat so much that it looked like a photo shoot for Details magazine. When I made it back to the front door I realized how much I missed running, and how stupid I was to settle for a cigarette instead of a good long run. Having decided to never settle again when it comes to finding ways to stay at a size 30 waist, I began to think of when you can’t help but to settle.

Sometimes when it comes to relationships you can’t help but settle. I’ve learned that bi-monthly phone calls and sporadic textversations is as good as its going to get with some people in my life. I’ve come to accept that some people from my past will always be just a memory, despite my trying to include them in my present. And sometimes you have to settle to keep some people who are in your past at arms length, because it’s for the best. The best may not always be what you want it to be, but sometimes you have to settle for it. This is an odd thing to think about; settling for the best. Dating and relationships is a complete bitch when it comes to thinking about settling. I don’t mean settling down, I’m years from that kind of thing, I mean who may and may not be right for you. It’s easy to think that the prettiest, sexiest, most charming is the only thing acceptable for you, but it might not be the best thing for you. This is where you have to learn to settle for the best and the best thing for you. This, as you may have guessed, is not easy and very time consuming. Thank God there are milk and cookies to help you while you think about it.

-Just Say What

I often need to rely on coffee to get me through my morning and make me last until the afternoon. Usually once the afternoon has started my body simply refuses to acknowledge that such a thing has a “nap” even exists. So as long as I hit noon at a relatively caffeinated speed, I can last. I’m not ashamed to admit it, I am completely codependent on that delicious mocha colored energy giving goodness. There are those who would say that not being able to get by on just sleep and orange juice is some sign of weakness, but that just makes me want to punch them in their starbucks. This brings up another issue; that starting every morning with an adequate dose of sweetened adrenaline can energize you, but exhaust your wallet. But the way I see it, paying for coffee will always be cheaper then court costs and fines for the collateral damages a decaffeinated angry person could accrue. The downfall that I do acknowledge makes my palms sweaty, literally. Coffee sweats, the pain in your side to the coffee bean in your cup. They are something avoidable, but I rarely have the capacity to tell myself to put down the mug and switch to water. It sort of comes down to the fact that sometimes you just don’t know when to say when. That’s the ancient phrase that we are supposed to use in a situation like this, “just say when”. But I am beginning to think it can be improved upon. Not every situation calls for the word “when”, sometimes you need more then a time. Sometimes you need an affirmation or a confirmation or a destination. Just say good job, just say yes, just tell me where you want me to be. Please don’t just say when.

Lately, the only thing my friends and I can say is just dance. I’ve hit the dance floor more then the combined number of times Chris Brown and Bobby Brown have hit their women. Note to all: never date them if their last name is Brown, observe the trend people. During these into-the-groove-expeditions I’ve seen many a time when all someone needed to do was to just say ____. A lot of the times it has to do with a person’s ability to just say no, to the next round of shooters and cosmos. Other times problems could have been avoided, if they had said they are just unavailable. And, occasionally, there are those who need to admit they are just desperate, or just pathetic. Sometimes admission is the first step to recovery, and other times it’s just a confession on a dance floor. Socially, I have many a reason to amend the “just say when” rule. Personally, I have reasons that make me want to punch the “just say when” rule right in its starbucks.

I am fairly secure in who I am as a person, despite the bad hair days and bat in the cave moments, so that enables me to just say truth. But, surprise surprise, not everyone shares this real world super power. Lately my days and nights and wee hours of the morning seem to be spotted with “just say” moments. Unfortunately no one seems to want to fill in the blank or have the capacity to admit to a limit or an interest. Now I understand completely not having the right words to say, but not admitting to something is a different matter. No admittance really does keep you out of the better parts of life. Whether it’s saying you ate the last doughnut or the fact that you find someone attractive, if you don’t say it you end up stuck in it. And that is not going to get you anywhere.

Relying on something does not make you weak; it simply means you know what you need to just say things correctly. Progressing through life it so much more then moving forward; it can also be helped along by just saying truthful things. Not speaking your mind will keep you standing still like the line at starbucks at six am; it will also only leave you just saying sorry to yourself. It can all be over, just like that; so it makes so much sense to just say ____.

-Simple, Stupid and Sam Sparro

There are many ways to feel stupid, even when you think you are four steps away from genius. A series of events can occur and suddenly you find yourself asking why the door you’re pulling on says push. Stupidity doesn’t always have to do with education and grades; sometimes it’s about the lack of education or the white lies we tell ourselves. Stupid is as stupid does, and sometimes stupid doesn’t think about the amount of calories in a vodka martini or the consequences of consecutive fast food runs or the payments on credit limits. Stupid can take on many forms; mental, verbal and physical. Like thinking you can pull of a mustache the same way Sam Sparro can, or imaging that fashion likes everyone equally. And I’m talking to you Lady Gaga, we can’t all be Carrie Bradshaw. Sometimes stupid is as simple as not knowing what to say, even when you have more then enough words floating around in your head. The real definition of stupid, the epitome of the sensation, is being caught in a moment where the wisdom in your brain can’t quite reach your mouth. Your cerebrum knows the precise wording to better state your knowledge of the situation, but all your tongue does is “bfffffffffff”.

I guess my face has always been a “trusting” one. Which has been both a good and a bad thing. It helps because people never suspect you of lying, you can get discounts at Panera for being cute, and you can smile your way to student discounts when you don’t have your ID with you. The downsides of having this kind of complexion are, never being taken seriously, always being expected to smile and having everybody want to confess to you and tell you their secrets. You would not believe the loads of dirty laundry I could do. The white picket fences in my head are spilling over with everybody’s deep, dark tellings. I don’t mind being able to have the opportunity to be confided in, but I feel dumber then a can of Mayonnaise, being held by George Bush, while he tries to name all the state capitals, when someone tells me something and I have no clue how to respond to it. It’s nice when people want to tell you what is happening with them, it does make you feel privileged and connected, but sometimes the confessional crown they lay on your head is a bit too heavy. There is no real way to get prepared for all the things that happen in life, and there is no real way to prepare yourself for when someone tells you life happened to them.

I suppose sometimes silence is golden, and all it really takes to be helpful is to listen and let a person vent, but a lot of the times there are things that should and need to be said. Unfortunately a lot of the times the words do not come out correctly or miss their intended target. And don’t even get my started on this textversation nonsense. You think it’s hard enough to make yourself understood in person, try doing it through letters on a phone screen. It’s ridiculous. They say that if silence can’t be golden, then you should keep it simple stupid. Which brings up the concept of what to do when you can’t rely on your words; do you give a kiss, offer a hug, or provide a shoulder to cry on? Even when you try to keep things as easy and uncomplicated as possible, they still seem to end up mixed and complicated in twenty one thousand ways. Even when all you want to say is something little. Like, I wannabe next you. Or, I can do it better. Or, I love you. Or, you have sesame chicken stuck in your teeth. No matter how badly you want to say something, and in an educated manner nonetheless, sometimes you just can’t make it happen. I do know this, sometimes all it takes is a little less effort; sometimes all you have to do is push instead of pull.

-Right In The Bullseye

Sometimes you have those days where you don’t really want to move. The kind of day where the bed and the couch have some kind of magnetic force, and you ass is just one giant refrigerator magnet. Your brain keeps telling you that there is “the list”, that big scary transformer of a list that needs to get taken care of. You know the list is important, you know the list will not take care of itself, you know the list has control over you, but you also know that if you try to get off the couch the sky will turn orange and the air will turn into bug spray. So the better idea seems to be to just stay on the couch. It’s not like you aren’t aware of the list, because chances are the only thing you are thinking about the whole time the couch is holding you hostage is the list. You think of what you would have done first off of the list, how you would have gone about doing it, and the preferred outcomes. You consider what would have been the most efficient travel routes, you ponder what stores are closest to each other, and you meditate on how you would have phrased your questions and offered your opinions. The fact that you didn’t do anything almost seems irrelevant because you thought it all out, you practically did it all. You were so close to taking a significant chunk out of that terrible “list” that you almost feel in the mood to celebrate; but then you remember that close only counts in horseshoes and preemptive bombings. No matter how much good will or heart felt mentality you put into something, it’s never going to be good enough unless you hit the bullseye.

Sometimes I play darts. On days where the couch has taken be captive, it is often gracious enough to allow me a bathroom break and some free time. During my free time I play darts. I am actually pretty good at it, but not in the ways that actually matter. A good dart player is not concerned with hitting the large numbers or accumulating as many points as possible every time they throw, no, a good dart player is worried about accuracy and skill. I can put all three darts on the board every time I throw, but I have no direction when I throw. My darts hit any number they damn well please, and I end up happy because I hit the board. But hitting the board is not even the real point of the game, winning is the real point of the game; and sometimes to win you have to miss or scratch out. Sometimes when you are playing it is way too easy to only see the bullseye, but usually the bullseye isn’t even what you need to score.

Attraction is such a dart board of a thing. All the qualities that a person could find attractive or be attracted to are just laid out there, and then we stand and throw our darts at it in hopes to hit something good. A sliver of mesmerizing eye color, a piece of broad shoulders, a triangle of aspirations, we throw our darts while thinking the highest score will benefit us the most. I suppose hitting the bullseye would be getting the best, most opportune result to attraction, but sometimes that isn’t what you really need to score. Sometimes you need to build up with smaller numbers, sometimes you need to focus on precision and accuracy before you can start throwing for the bullseye. Sure fifty points is a nice large amount, but it can also be too much and make you lose or bust. Then where are you after you bust? Right back where you were before, but now you are even more disappointed. Sometimes life hits you in the bullseye because life isn’t polite. Sometimes the couch grabs you by the bullseye and doesn’t let you go. Sometimes you throw for the bullseye but hit something close to it, something better then the bullseye itself. When that happens, that’s when you get to look life in the bullseye and say “I win”.