There's Good, There's Bad...and then there's Online Dating.

Holy hell. Where do I even begin? Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on how you look at it), I've been single for the majority of my adult life. Yes I've had relationships, I've loved, been at the receiving end of heartbreak, dealt out some break of my own and experienced the heinousness that is online dating. For all the unnatural computer created encounters and profiles that are out there, the one positive that it has brought me is that I've learned a whole hell of a lot about myself and what I want and don't want.

Finding what I want, on the other hand...turns out to be harder than nailing jello to a tree.

Are my standards too high? Too low? Am I unrealistic? Do I over-analyze everything (yes, this one I know to be true). But, do I deserve better than my past decisions? Yes. Am I willing to put my heart and mind through countless ridiculous dinners and drinks and conversations that make my skin crawl and my mind want to scream..."Dude, I now see why you're single!!"? Yes...fortunately. See, my view-point on dating along with many other things in life is this: You don't know until you try. How do I know that I don't want a man in my life who takes me shoe shopping, for him, on the first date? I know this because I've been there. Not only do I hate shopping...I hate wearing shoes all together. This guy really listened and took the time to get to know me. How do I know that honesty, whether in the written word on an online profile or in life, is paramount in my life? One phone conversation...guy listed salary as upwards of $70,000 (ok, good for him), in phone conversation..."I have no car and I have to sell movies to get some cash, but let's go out"...Um. Put unemployed, guy. Don't lie. It takes more time to be fake and create some alter ego than it does to answer honestly...this applies to nearly everything in life.

Online dating is like being at a bar in college, at happy hour. Everyone is there, they all look their best and they're all there for one thing...or so you think. Picking through the crazies to find the diamond in the rough turns out to be the toughest part about it. I really believe in love. I believe in marriage, commitment, family, kids and I believe in monogamy. Maybe it's because I have awesome examples in my own life. Maybe I'm looking for perfection. Maybe I think too much. Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic and have watched Pride & Prejudice way too many times.

The thing is, we all just get this one chance. One lifetime. How can you commit to a single person for the rest of that lifetime, if they don't fit perfectly? Whether you're opposites or you're a mirror of likes and dislikes, whether they are 7 feet tall and dark as night or 4'5 and albino...how can you settle before you know it to be true? When do you know? Do you "tough it out" with someone who you think has such great potential, because you believe in them? People don't change unless they want to. Do you stay with someone because you're afraid to be alone? In my opinion...hellllllll no. Fear is such a great motivator. It seems to rear its ugly head time and time again in my adult life. It's ironic since the last tattoo I branded my body with states "Sine Metu", yet is it fear that has held me back from committing or am I that right in my heart, trusting my instincts that have lead me down this path? I truly would love to stumble upon that "right" person...the other half to spend my life with traveling the world, building a family, exploring and learning together...but first, time to log-off.

Hide & Seek: Soul

I swear I saw her here an instant ago. In my face one moment, gone the next. It's been a struggle to keep her in my grasp. I do have to admit though that up until the last few years of my life, she was constantly hidden...so far in the depths of my self that I wouldn't even begin to describe her, let alone find her. The ever elusive soul. It took breaking down some very well-built walls to even catch a quick glimpse of her, before she came rushing at me like a freight train going 100 miles per hour.

I used to have this sense of soul as something I'd attain when I met the person for me, my partner in crime, my future, blah blah watch too many romantic movies (and still do) mixed with Disney surrealism. Come to find out...she's been here all along. Not to say I don't still hold out a tiny bit of hope that there really is a knight in shining armour or Under Armour...or hell...jeans and a t-shirt, but I'm no longer trying to find myself in others.

For a long time I dated men that were not right for me, would make me feel like less of myself and more of a version of what I could have possibly someday been, when the person you're with should bring out the best in you. Not show you the way or change you, but just be themselves along side you, in support. So many of us get comfortable in an idea of who we should be with that we don't get a moment to stop and listen to our own selves...are we even happy? Who am I? Who am I with this person? Is this someone who will leave me a better version of myself than when they came into my life?

Fortunately (or unfortunately) I have spent the majority of my adult life single with many moments to think about myself and what I want. For the longest time I held in my true opinions and feelings, about family, about self, about hurt, about anger, you name it...it was held inside crumbling my soul into an almost nonexsistent zombie version of itself until just under two years ago when she slowly started breaking free.

It started with a couple panic attacks. Those who have not experienced extreme anxiety or panic before, it's hard to understand when someone explains it, but nevertheless, it makes me feel better to talk and write about it so guess what? You have to read it anyway. Two years ago I had some hugely important events happen in my life. My younger sister got engaged, one of my closest friends came out of the closet and I checked my number one trip off of my travel bucket list of life-Ireland. Two months later I also had a really scary panic attack while driving 80 miles an hour down the highway with my Mom in the passenger seat.

I had been feeling off for a long time, but just thought it was stress at work (another thing I'd internalize) or my health not being right. I'd have moments where I had to catch my breath or was feeling faint...but of course, brushed it under the rug as "nothing". Thanksgiving morning, a very relaxing fun family filled day and while I'm driving I start feeling my heart pounding and my breath is shallow. Next thing I know thoughts are in my head like: I am having a heartattack or I am going to pass out and die while driving, there will be a huge tragedy, I'm going to hurt someone else, this is horrible...etc etc etc. At that point of panic, there is usually not much that gets those thoughts into realistic ones, i.e., you aren't having a heartattack, you aren't dying, you aren't hurting anyone, you just have bad anxiety...and this day, this feeling...seemingly lasted forever. I pulled the car over on the highway and my Mom took the wheel, trying to talk me through it.

The next day driving to work, the feeling was still there but was more of a "what if that happens again, and I'm alone"? Feeling. It disappated over the next few weeks, only to rear it's ugly head twice more in the months to come. Both at calm,supposed-to-be-happy, moments. The final straw was one day I walked into work and felt completely off kilter. I felt faint, sad, distraught, tired, sick, everything you can mix together to make it sooo not good, was me. Tears fell from my eyes as I left work for the day and headed home and the flood gates opened when I got there. My Mom left work for the day after talking to me, and came home to talk to me. I could not for the life of me shake the overwhelming saddness I felt, but was still feeling physical symptoms as well so we decided to go to the doctors.

After multiple tests for breathing and other things, the doctor concluded (and I agreed), that I was having some serious anxiety. Next step, I call the nearest therapist (who coincidently was also my Yoga instructor at the time-fate, right?) and make an appointment. After getting over the initial judgement of "oh god I have a therapist, so embarrassing"...I started to talk, and talk, and talk, and talk some more. I started to write pages upon pages of feelings. Some extremely angry, some sad, some happy, some hopeful, about everyone in my life...and me. I realized some (for me) scary things about my stress...I hadn't been listening to music (if you know me, you know this is huge-I wake up with music on my alarm, plug my ipod in my car the minute I get in it,etc) I was silently driving to and from where I needed to be...because my head was so loud. I also realized I hadn't been reading in MONTHS. That is also a HUGE red flag. I adore reading. Not afraid to let my "geek" flag fly. Reading is such an amazingly relaxing, educating, tension releasing activity for me, that to not do it...something had to be seriously off.

I realized that I had this misconception that in order for people to be my real friends, I had to agree with everything they are about and are doing. Guess what? Not. I learned how to accept myself as flawwed but perfectly so. Friends and family as well. We are nothing if not human, and I was holding everyone in my life up to these unrealistic expectations. Once I learned to let go...soul started knocking at the door. I loaded up my ipod, stocked-up on great books, and started to let my friends in on what I had been going through. What I learned was that there are a few great ones that care so much that they still ask, even when I've passed the big hurdle for now. My soul is growing in strength...with every great new song I hear, with every great new book I read. She completely doubled in strength when I became an Aunt, when I was asked to be the Maid of Honor for my sister, when I admit to my friends the things about them that I struggle or disagree with (which I had been so afraid of doing for fear of their judgement, which was really my own), but the reaction? Love. It's been open, it's been healing, it's been a process that I'm sure will have twists and turns for a long time but the best part is that I know I'm never alone.

To those who have my heart, you know it, cause now I actually tell you. This year when my soul turns 30, I will be grateful to have learned about myself...from myself. I will be grateful for falls, because so far...I've lifted myself up. I will be grateful for my expanding family, my strength in friendships and love. I will be grateful for my niece, my godson, my place in their lives. I will grow my soul so she can never hide again.

(Wo)man's Best Friend

I once heard a quote that said "Getting a pet is like inviting a little tragedy into your home." Though light hearted, it rings so very true. From training to frustration to love to some more frustration and even more love and eventually leading to an (always) untimely death. Pets, particularly dogs, provide a companionship that cannot be matched with humans. The never ending loyalty and acceptance that a dog has for its owner being just a small part, I would recommend any caring person with enough time and space to get a dog. They fill your home and your heart with warmth.

What is only half true is the sentiment that dog is mans best friend. With the recent loss of my cocker spaniel Murphy I was reminded as to how important our furry little friends are to both men and women. I think that women (being the naturally more sensitive of the human species) have an ability to connect with animals that men don't always experience. From my experience (29 years of life with 2 dogs at all times, prior to the pet rabbit, guinea pig, cat, fish, gerbils etc.), it's very often the female owners that suffer the greatest loss when a pet passes on. For those of us that love animals and take them into our homes, we accept these little crazy beings as part of the family. They take on quirks often similar to that of their owners, carve a place into our hearts and nestle up in there until their hold has taken over any ability we have to be disheartened by pets or animals whether ours or any other human beings.

My sensitivity to animals is tripled when I witness things like lost dogs without collars on, runaways that are so eager for human affection that they come up to strangers wagging their tale and hoping for a pat or two. I feel some days like the universe knows this and therefore sends many a stray dog my way. I have come in contact with at least a dozen stray dogs in the last year and each time I feel the strong need to take them home and care for them, though I know this isn't always the answer, I still feel that strong pull.

One day while driving home from work I witnessed two adult mutts strolling the street seemingly unscathed by the busy traffic and hustle and bustle around them. Without an owner, I immediately feel a strong sad/angry feeling that always comes with seeing an animal being mistreated (I consider leaving a dog outside so that it can easily run away, to be mistreated). I pull over my car and roll down the window hoping to get a better look at the two mangy mutts that have taken to this particular street. Instead of running or darting away, they both begin to wag their tails so hard that their whole bodies shake...assuming maybe that I was their owner? The most daring of the two comes over, puts his paws up on the car and sticks his happy face in the now-open window.

Now how is it possible for someone who made the conscious decision to purchase or acquire this dog, to leave him in a situation where he could escape? It's not that difficult...close door, lock door. Don't leave dog outside all day. Maybe it's like the people that shouldn't have children...some should NEVER own dogs.

As the saying goes...

No matter how hard we all try to escape it sometimes, society reels us back in. Distortions, expectations, overly enhanced models with not so overly enhanced bank accounts are beginning to make the rest of us feel...well, not-so-enhanced. The pressures of age and friends and marraige and sex and babies...don't even get me started on babies, can all start to wear on even the most level headed folks out there. I think I have a very mixed bag when it comes to friends at all stages of life and relationships which has provided me with some great resources, at times entertainment and most of all learning experience by way of knowledge, tips and tricks to get me through my own ordeal. What is it really that puts pressure on us to move forward into and out of relationships? We can blame it on society (I have quite a few bones to pick with ours), history or even our parents...but when it comes down to it, it's pressure put on ourselves from...ourselves. A lot of people struggle internally with being a better version of themselves. With feeling "enough" or "worthy". This creates a school of thought that you will only reach the enough or feel the worthy if you have certain things: marraige and kids by 40, white picket fence (are fences still all the rage?) and maybe a golden retriever and a cat for shits and giggles. What if there are those of us out there who do want those things, but are approaching or passing the age in which the expectation lies? What then? What happens after? Life after expectations...is it bliss? Do we move past the horrid attraction to online dating (gasp-eek! I said it "outloud") or do we succumb to it? The distinterest in all things organic between people has become such a problem that many singles do fall victim to the match/plentyoffish/chemistry/jdate/supercalifragilousdexpealidocious of dating sites. Now when I say fall victim to the sites, thats not entirely true. Many people choose to place themselves on there with the hope that somewhere out there is their counterpart doing the same and are subject to countless reminders that it isn't infact the case. It's become so easy to type up a profile that people send messages the equivalent of a pinch of the ass at a dirty biker bar. Even those of us who put effort into it (why, don't ask me) and explain what we definitely don't want, even if we don't know what we do want? We get crap. We get "whatchu doin 2nite" (spelling as received) or "u.r.sexy". Really? Did you just read (can you read) where I stated I have zero interest in flingy casual you're-not-realy-single-but-say-you-are types? Guess not. Why not just put a picture up of some T&A? You'd probably get the same sort of response!The lengths to which some singles are prepared to reach grow longer with each passing day. Why isn't it ok to not be matched up with people constantly or not be the 'single friend'? Can't we all just be who we are and meet people face to face by passing eachother in the produce aisle or pumping gas at the same time? Why? We're all too busy, in too much of a rush, on too much Facebook, to notice that the one we've been looking for, just drove on by. As the saying goes, "Good things come to those who wait." What about those of us who reach out and grab those good things by the cojones, pull them kicking and screaming towards us and work it out? That wouldn't be good...it'd be great.

Communication Disintegration

My spelling skills have gone down the proverbial drain. Something I used to pride myself on, I now double check my texts and quick Google search words to make sure their spelling is correct. We all make mistakes from time to time and often someone like me who is a speedtastic-typist, will occasionally spell a word the way it sounds as it's pouring out of my brain and onto paper (yes I still use it) or the new document I've opened in Microsoft Word. Rereading my work surprises me in a "Oh no you didn't!" sort of way. This has gotta stop. Texting has become my favorite and most often used form of a communication. I so rarely call and speak to someone on the phone that I actually get anxiety when I get phone calls. My internal reaction is somewhere along the lines of "Oh shit, that thing actually rings?!...You mean to say...I can speak into it and hear out of it?! No way!"...then I let the call go to voicemail. Cell phone and computer usage has infiltrated so much of our lives these days. I struggle to find a friend who does NOT have an Iphone/Ipad/Itouch that they are constantly defaulting to, for entertainment, communication, Google searches and any other trillion thing those lil' gadgets are capable of. I am not innocent in the communication breakdown...I text. I have Facebook and I check it more than is ever necessary and I've used Ipads before and think they're pretty cool. But I'm beginning to think that all of the computer and cell phone use is actually hurting us as human beings. I remember the day when I turned sixteen and was handed a cell phone which was purely for emergency purposes to use in my rockin' maroon '91 Jetta that was my first pride and joy. Sure the cell phone weighed about a pound and was concrete grey with an antenna that NASA could probably pinpoint from space...but it really was just for emergencies (or to call my parents and say that I wouldn't make curfew...every time I had a curfew). Now kids are given phones (Internet capable) at the age of 10. What the hell do kids need cell phones for at that age? If they're in school...they're in school. There is a phone in every single classroom, nurses office, principals office, main office...any office...in a school. Why does a kid need to tote a cell phone around? It just gives other kids one more outlet to bully and make fun of the weaker of the population. You now have to have the coolest phone that has the best apps and the most expensive data plan in order to be the cat's meow, all before puberty hits...and what parent ever wants to have their puberty ridden child making calls and texting every hour of the day. Can you just imagine the things that the lil nuggets are saying to each other as their hormonal groins scream at them to act out? Totally and completely unnecessary. As adults many of us carry around our cell phones everywhere we go in our purse or pocket. God forbid someone is unable to reach or respond while you are strolling down the beach or running into the grocery store. Who wants to be cell-less while pumping gas and using the restroom...I mean really? What level has the insanity gotten to? I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine and I was discussing how I am going to downgrade my phone. I have a Blackberry that eats 100$ of my money each month so that I can text and check Facebook as much as my heart desires...and am beginning to see how much money is being thrown away. This whole "data plan" business is ridiculous. The friends response was "I could NEVER do that!" to downgrading to a less "smart" phone. That response sounded more like a crack addict being asked to stop using than an intelligent adult letting go of the Iphone. It both surprised me and made me think....how deeply attached many of us are to the instant connection of the Internet. I spent time with a group of friends recently and at one point I stood up to make a drink and looked around the room and every single person in the room was looking at his or her respective phone. There has got to be a problem here. If people are getting lazy to the point where they'd rather see the latest Facebook post instead of asking the friend next to them how their day was, something is seriously lacking. Group dinners, gatherings and parties are all for the mingling of people and ideas as well as the improving and maintaining of interpersonal connection...how do we learn to interact and build really great relationships with people if half of their brain has slowed to the point where only staring at cell phones and computers will do? I realize that some people out there "need" the phone because they are on-call or have some extreme sort of situation that makes them prone to emergency phone calls, or maybe parents of small children being watched by a sitter...yes I'd keep my phone by me for these reasons. But everything else? Can we stop it? Can we have an entire party happen where not one person checks their phone repeatedly or mentions Facebook or the Internet? Is it possible? What did we do before Facebook? What did our lives consist of before texting became the most widely used form of communication? I'll tell you what we did. We lived. We danced. We laughed. We spoke. We hugged. We wrote. We walked. We loved. We learned about each other. Let's go back...way back...back when Words With Friends...was actually, words with friends.

Gospel According to Bookworm; Volume 1: Awesome Adriana

I've always loved the written word. As long as I can remember, sitting down with a book has calmed me, brightened my mood, relaxed me or even helped to lull me into a deep much-needed snoozefest. Not to mention...I could learn something. There was a time, albeit a short one, where reading "wasn't cool"...maybe it was the teen years of thinking I had to be as "cool" as the coolest cucumber out there or the early college years where napping then partying and partying then napping became necessity but I am extremely proud to say that now, I am back in my reading groove...and just in time because there are some awesome works of art out there that I have been so fortunate to have read and one of the most awesome of awesome...is author Adriana Trigiani.

I'm not sure if I love her writing because of her obvious abundence of talent or due to the fact that the subject matter has been along the lines of all things I love (love, shoes, Italian food, traveling, men, etc), but the latest novel I just finished can go right on my list of beloveds (not surprisingly) which includes Very Valentine, Brava Valentine, Lucia, Lucia and Rococo. This latest is titled Viola in the Spotlight and it was a pleasure to read.

First I must explain (not sure why-bear with me) about my reading habits. I am as open-minded about reading as I am about most things in life. I'll pick up new authors here and there, try a memoir or a book of poetry...I don't discriminate. However, I am a hardcore lover of fiction. When you pick up a well written book of fiction and just immerse your mind in the story...in my opinion you can be transported to another place. It's the same reason I love movies (I don't deny a good juicy reality tv show either but), a well written, acted and directed movie can take you completely out of yourself and into a life in another realm. There is such a power in movies and in novels of fiction that in my opinion you just don't get through other works. That being said, I have recently discovered and need to admit something to the world...the novels out there written for "tweens" are secretly loved by adults too...Twilight...need I say more?

I admit to first being anti-tween reading. I mean why revert back to "easier" reading when you've already read dozens of books that are directed at adults your own age and decades older? I'll tell you why...pure...unadulterated...entertainment. These books are as easy on the mind as they are on the eyes when you speed read through them. They don't drain the tears from your eyes or heart-wrench that wretched organ out of your chest...and yet still...they pull you in and make you love them. Viola in the Spotlight is no different.

For such a specifically designed character that Viola is (in age, living situation, interests) she encompasses the every-girl. She made me want to go back to high school (now really, who ever wants to go back there) and relive the dramatic moments of friendships and loves and "epic" summer vacations. Her view through the lens of a video camera took me back to high school tv class and her group of close friends made me appreciate mine. This book was a delight to read. Easy on the mind and heart yet still had moments where you were wishing for more of a kiss or less of a linger. I don't shy away from recomending lucious books to people so I'm tellin' ya...anytime you may pass by ANY of Adriana Trigiani's novels, including Viola in the Spotlight...pick them up, read until your heart's content and you will not be disappointed.

Nixing the Snooze

I've never been a morning person. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a horrible grumbling monster in the morning...just not my happiest moment of the day. If I'm getting up in the middle of the night/wee hours of the morning to go on some sort of vacation romp to a fantastic place...I'll be all the morning person you need...but otherwise...no way jose. It's not even that I really love sleep all that much. I definitely notice when I haven't had enough of it or even when I have too much...but gone are the weekend days of sleeping in till noon...I don't even have any kids yet...I just don't sleep those extra hours anymore (even if I tried).



I'm beginning to think that one of my unhealthy habits is the culprit for my not-so-glorious-in-the-morning tude. I press the snooze. Not only do I press the snooze...I hit it, slap it, poke it, press down with my entire hand (thinking that may create a few extra moments of sleepytime) and have even moved my alarm clock in an effort to stop all of this nonsense. I read somewhere that if you are the type to hit snooze multiple times in the morning, you could try and move your clock somewhere else in the room so that you actually have to get up out of bed and walk to it to turn off the alarm. I did this. I plugged in my alarm clock all the way across the room on my windowsill. Know what I do every morning before work? Hear my alarm, get up from bed, walk 5 or 6 steps over to window, hit snooze, walk 5 or 6 steps back to bed, climb in...commence snoozeing. Not only is it bad enough I do this at all...I do it 4 or 5 times. Thus, delaying the enevitable frustration of getting up according to an unpleasant alarm blaring in the morning.



Most likely all of this snooze button pushing and strolling back to bed does little to nothing for my sleep. It may even make my morning monger attitude worse than it has to be but damnit...I love that snooze. I think whomever invented alarm clocks should renig that creation. Isn't that what it does anyway? Lessen the obvious outcomes blow? Why start the pain and anger any earlier than it has to be started? It's like when you have a vicious Bandaide to remove. You look at it, go for it...then you rip a teensy corner off, only to push it back down and re-stick it to the already unpleasant patch of skin it's clinging to? No Way! You rip that entire little bastard off in one quick motion. You don't delay what you know will suck in the first place! Why do we hit snooze?! Or how bout another example...getting a shot at the doctors office...do you want the nurse to take the needle out, poke your skin a little, stop...poke your skin and pierce your skin...and stop...and then finally come back for more and jab that sucker into your arm or leg or ass? NO!

Just take the alarm for what it is and get the hell out of bed (at least that's my new goal. I swear I'll start tomorrow morning)...