Monthly Archives: April 2013

by

It’s Easier to Ask for Forgiveness Than It Is To Get Permission

Every time I see friends of mine with their partners, I always give one bit of advice: It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to get permission. I don’t do it to be serious, but because I find it hilarious. It’s not real advice they should listen to, it’s the rationale you give yourself when you do something you wanted that your partner disapproved of. What kind of relationship is that, when people do whatever they want without any regard to their partner? I sat around considering this idea of relationships when a few of my friends “put a ring on it”, and are embarking on a fantastic part of their life I’m glad I can watch and say I’ve been through successfully.

The real key to success is not letting the other forget the person they really are and allow them to forget who they are. I used to think that my husband changed me, that he calmed me down but allowed me to still be the quirky and neurotic me who still regains a bit of free spirit. I thought about that, and I realized he didn’t change anything about me. The “calm” that I have now has nothing to do with my husband at all; it’s a result of the natural maturity that occurs as we age. Maturity doesn’t mean you because some boring older version of yourself, it just means that you outgrew everything that differentiates an adult and an adolescent. I wonder if that means that getting drunk on wine and not vodka is a part of this maturity.

In this growth, I wonder if that’s what the difference between a “relationship” and a relationship. A “relationship” is where two people come together under the façade of an actual relationship, but really is an ownership or superficial version that most of us go through in high school. A relationship is where two people grow together, where compromise and common ground is the key and you push each other to follow dreams and allow each other to be the person you fell in love with. It’s easy to be with another person, it’s not easy to be a part of another person’s life. As  I near 30, I’m glad I found this person that follows my idea of what a relationship should be. I hate dating, and I’m definitely glad not to have to be a part of the crowd every again. But what better way to go into the “age of actual adulthood”, than with a partner and not an owner or alone.

People will probably disagree with me, that’s perfectly fine. I’m probably narrow-minded to believe that a relationship equals a partnership. I firmly believe that though, and if you’re constantly bending or miserable then that’s really your problem and I don’t feel guilty that I’m not. I should, but I don’t. It’s not easy to walk away; it’s easier to allow yourself to get lost. Some people like the easy way out. I don’t. I don’t like to settle, I don’t like to bend and I certainly don’t like the idea of not being myself. I wish everyone else the happiness I’ve found and I urge everyone to find a partner too. Notice I said partner.

by

Once Upon a Time

I do at least try to write a post every “blog” day. Most of the time they get deleted, I refuse to post based on quality of content, or I really just dislike what was written. If I complete a post I hated, it sits rotting away in the draft folder on this site. Not anymore, or so I’ve just decided. Now you can see the rejects and mock them or myself for posting them whenever I really just can’t sit and dedicate the time for a decently lengthed post. Today, a rejected post about reality television. Enjoy!

Once upon a time, I put up a novella length short story on the Kindle e-book store for $0.99. It’s worth a look and less expensive than most good candies these days. There is a link on the side of my page that says “Buy my works” that’ll lead you to my author page and to my first publication. Now that I’m done with my shameless self-promotion, to my post.

Once upon a time, reality shows only consisted of extreme competitions for an amount of money that didn’t seem worth it. (Survivor, anyone?) We’d watch it, the sadists that we are to see people suffer in extremely dire and staged situations that we knew were fake but still bit our nails anyways. I never watched them, but I recall at my former workplace a co-worker called me to remind me that Big Brother was on. This was a show she told me was fantastic, I tried to watch it I really did. I couldn’t make it without going crazy because they seemed to have picked the most annoying, cocky, and idiotic people who could and shoved them into a house for our enjoyment. We really just watched to see them fight and plot against each other. If I wanted to see that, I’d relive high school. You get the same emotions without the promise of a $10,000 prize. Soon followed shows like Bachelor/ette, and a downward spiral to evil began.

Then in this fairy tale of reality shows, something happens. The television rulers decided “hey, let’s come up with the weirdest things ever, and make a show of them”. They started small by giving people with multiple kids due to fertility treatments or religious beliefs a show. Then they gave little people shows. Then… then they decided to get weirder. Shows like My Strange Addiction, where a guy is in love with his car, or a show like Virgin Diaries were shown. They tossed in a polygamist and some Amish people which seemed a bit more normal than the previous set.

Eventually, things turned bad. Very bad. My eyes looked at the television in awe that there was an 80-year-old doing seductive yoga to try to seduce a man in his mid-20’s. Part of me wants to applaud her, the other part makes me wonder why they made a show over this. Then I see a commercial for an Amish mafia show. Ok television gods, I can handle the whiny and privileged housewives because they gave me NeNe Leakes and I enjoy The New Normal and her character on Glee. I even didn’t mind that you give a television show to a guy with a bad weave or one to extreme cheapskates/couponers. I draw the line at half-naked old women laying the moves on people my age and an Amish man “keying” a buggie.

I thought I had seen it all when a guy was making out and sexually caressing his car. I thought they couldn’t get worse than someone who loves pink so much that she dyed her adorable little Maltese pink. You should’ve stopped there, you really should’ve. I know you’re getting desperate for ideas, but I think there was a line you crossed long ago. They shouldn’t be called “reality tv” anymore. I recommend calling it the “preplanned bizarre hour”. I appreciate coming up with new ideas, I really do. But please, oh please, I can’t handle this anymore. On a side note, I will probably watch an episode of the Amish Mafia. If I can survive an episode of Honey BooBoo, I’m sure that’d be a more entertaining cake walk.

by

The Easter Bunny Never Forgets

In all my parenting emails and reading parenting magazines, I saw several articles about making the holiday fun and exciting for your kids. I saw a few stress-free party ideas. I never once saw an article about “Survival Guide to In-Laws and Other Awkward Situations”. Luckily, all my In-Laws are nice people. It’s really not their fault I’m an anti-social shut in that doesn’t know how to associate with other people. It’s actually a miracle my husband puts up with me, because sometimes I lack any sense of what’s appropriate and not. So far, I don’t think I’ve offended them so let’s hope I keep up the streak.

For instance, I was more excited that I dared to try on a “pre-pregnancy” shirt to see if it fit so I didn’t have to wear my husband’s shirts like I do around the house. A miracle, it fit! I tried on another, with similar luck. I tried on the jeans, and that wasn’t even close. I say it all the time, but “little victories”. Sad to say, I was actually more excited about this than the holiday. I should be ashamed that I said that, but I’m honestly not. I feel very awesome at this time.

The truth is, your mother and mother in law will never let you forget that you gained weight. They don’t do it purposely, and I doubt it’s really malicious. I think it’s just nature to note things of that nature, and they decide that you deserve to know whether you want the reminder or not. So when one mentions that you’ve lost a lot of weight, you get giddy like a schoolgirl and get excited. In my head, I squealed with delight. I’m not entirely sure whether it was just in my head. I really don’t care though, I just want to fit in my clothes again and feel like a human. Or I’ll settle for “just like a me”.

No matter how long you’ve known your in-laws or have been married into the family, I still feel like there’s a need to make sure they don’t hate you. They don’t need to like you just because you’re part of the family. They can sense insincerity and will definitely prey an any weakness that might make them consider you as unworthy of their child’s affections. So the big tip is to be yourself, but a more tamed and better version of yourself. Bite your tongue more often than you normally would and smile and nod when you need to. If you keep those in mind, you’ll be fine and you’ll have a happy life with your spouse. Mostly because every holiday won’t be a fight because you’ll actually enjoy spending time with them.