Another Lost Soul Finds the Light

Today, I had the pleasure of having lunch with two of my favorite college friends Scary and Lapin. My friend Scary has just gotten a wonderful job in Virgina working for a division of the Smithsonian Institute, and on his three day drive to the east coast, he and my other friend Lapin decided to give me the honor of a quick visit.

It was so good to see them again. Ms Lapin even went so far down memory lane that we had to do Balki’s infamous dance of joy. However, mostly we spent our time concentrating on the future, thinking about how we would spend the next years of our lives. Ms. Lapin and myself are still hopeless members of the Lost Souls Club, aimlessly wandering the planet hoping to reach that epiphanic moment where everything makes sense. But our beloved Scary wanders no more. He has found his calling, researching a rare breed of Mongolian wild horses, tagging and monitoring this extinct species to see if they can find the most effective way to breed them and reintroduce them into their natural habitant in China. Yes, I’m jealous, but I’m also very happy for him because I don’t think that there is anyone better suited for this type of work.

This type of story always inspires me because it shows just how quickly your life can change. In the matter of two weeks, Scary went from doing landscaping in Montana to rescuing an entire species in China. So just think what the next two weeks could hold for the rest of us if we are brave enough to put our names out there.

Identity Theft

My eyes popped awake at noon today with the bone chilling realization that my beloved journal is MISSING. Last time I saw it was a week ago after my big job interview. At the time, I was so happy and hopeful that I would receive the position that I treated myself to lunch at one of my favorite restaurants the Mediterranean Café. I was writing in my journal while waiting for my food to arrive, but once that delicious meal was presented in front of me, none of my physical belongings seemed to matter. I was floating so high on good food and the possibility of new employment that I could of quite easily left a bag of cash at the restaurant.

That journal meant so much to me, but I suppose I do take it for grated, completely ignoring it for months at a time, then coming back to it with emotional fury when I feel like my world is about the collapse. I started it in October of 2004, so it has nearly a year and a half of my identity locked up inside of it, along with the details of three of my most “exceptional” relationships. I’m simply not ready to share the true details of who I am with anyone. I mean this blog is great and is probably the closest I’ve ever come to revealing who I really am to the world, but it’s not the same. This blog is a polished and embellished representation of who I think I am with humor and exaggerations weaved in throughout to overshadow the truth. That journal, however, never shined or made jokes in the hopes of amusing anybody. It was like the raw ore that sits deep underground, beautiful, yet never expecting to see the light of the sun.

I was going to save that journal forever and read it when I turned 82 so I could laugh at how ridiculous I was, but now that may not be possible. And even though I'm upset that I may never be able to get it back, the strange thing is that I can’t stop smiling because the once nauseating idea of someone reading my journal seems invigorating now that it may actually be happening. Yet regardless of how invigorating it may be, I still I want it back, so wish me luck as I retrace my footsteps, trying to find the solemn remnants of my identity that fell from my body the moment I dared to be happy.

Olympic Figure Skating

Watching figure skating in Torino last night was bittersweet for me because it's a sport that I love more than any other, while also being a dream that I allowed to die. I always dreamed that 2006 would be my Olympic year, my last chance to glide across that glistening stage and show the world the beauty of my turns and jumps. However, once I started college, my priorities changed and suddenly 6am skating sessions seemed more like insanity than the hours that could make my dreams reality.

I was planning on boycotting the Olympics all together so I wouldn't be reminded of all the potential I gave up, but my mother taped the men's short program for me, and last night I built up the courage to watch. Those young men were so amazing. My new favorite is Daisuke Takahashi because he has so much spirit and the fastest spins and footwork I've ever seen. His jumps are not quite there yet, but he makes up for that with so much energy and style. He is my new love.

However, my long lasting love goes to Johnny Weir because he is so gorgeous, and he is the most eloquent skater I've ever laid eyes. He's even more graceful than the ladies. Plus, he has so much attitude and can have me rolling on the floor with laughter sometimes. They showed an old interview clipping of him last night where he said that his program was like a shot of vodka or a snort of coke because he didn't do very well. Such a comment definitely does not make him the wholesome, all American athlete we all expect our figure skaters to be and I greatly respect him for that.

And then we have the current leader after the short program Evgeni Plushenko, who is very talented pulling off an unbelievable quad-triple combination. However, I was not moved by his program. He just seems so overgrown and clunky that I almost felt sorry for the ice and thought that it might crack under all of his heavy footsteps. I do sympathize with his situation because he was a very lean teenage skater, but he has finally gotten his grown man's body and looks more like a skating cow than a world class skater. Although he doesn't have the grace of Johnny, he does have the jumps which is very commendable because consistently pulling off a quad-triple combination is no easy trick.

Anyway, I just wanted to make my peace with figure skating and end my boycott because I really do have so much respect for these skaters and all the falls their bones have to endure.

(Insert the Sound of Me Screaming with Excitement)

I just had the best job interview ever! I’m up for a research analyst position with a company that is doing a temporary study hoping to find a better way to diagnosis mental illnesses. My task will be to recruit participants and administer an experimental assessment test and to occasionally administer the SCID (Structured Clinical Interview, which I do pretend to be knowledgable about). This project will only last for four months, but there is a chance that it could develop into a permanent position working on a methamphetamine study.

I have no idea why these two studies sound so interesting to me because I have no experience working with mental illnesses or meth users. However, I almost exploded out of my skin with joy when my interviewers talked about the studies, and I wanted to hug each of them for even considering me for such a great opportunity. I know it’s a bit ridiculous to be as excited as I am about a position that is not a sure thing, but I can’t help feeling like this job was meant for me and that all of my past experiences have lead me to this wonderful place. Cross your finger, your legs, and your eyes for me because I want this one more than any other I’ve ever tried to get.

Valentine’s Day Reflections

Valentine’s Day is rarely fun for a single girl such as myself, but I had a surprisingly good Valentine’s yesterday. Some of my smiles stem from the realization that I may at last be over the train wreck relationship that was my first love, and to honor my first and only love on Valentine’s day, I listened to my “Thinking of Him” tape that I made after our breakup. That tape could make me cry rivers, but I didn’t feel any pain or negativity when I listened to it yesterday.

It’s amazing to me how the memories you associate with a song can change back and forth when you’re not looking. One song for example practically described word for word the things that made our relationship fall apart, but that song no longer represents heartache to me. Since I bought the cd in France while I was studying abroad, all I can visualize now is me walking down the narrow streets of Avignon, listening to music and admiring the scenery. I am so grateful that this song is no longer painful to listen and that it has magically spun itself back into a positive memory because it would be such a shame to have to avoid certain songs forever just because they remind me of him.

Although the realization that my wounds have healed is wonderfully exciting, I’d say the majority of my smiles from Valentine’s Day can be attributed to the kindness of three of my male friends who made me feel remarkably special with their attention and trinkets. It doesn’t even take much to make me happy, just a phone call or a visit, but sometimes I find that getting even that from of boyfriend is like pulling teeth. So imagine my surprise when three of my friends with no Valentine’s Day obligation to me, manage to pull off these favors without a second thought. I was moved because I’ve never really had a real Valentine’s Day experience, and when I come to think about it, I’ve missed out on practically every cliché romantic moment. I’ve never had a Valentine. I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss. I have never even kissed under the mistletoe, but I’m sure these moments will sneak up on me when I least expect them because just as I gave up on Valentine’s Day, I wound up having the most memorable one yet.

Thank God For Girl Scouts!

In my eyes, nothing can compare to the crispy, chocolaty, goodness that is a Samoa Girl Scout cookie. It's a taste that comes only once a year, and in my house is anticipated with the same delight as Christmas.

This year, however, I decided to be brave and venture outside the security of my Samoa and shortbread staples, and try a new cookie called Lemon Coolers. They're supposed to be reduced fat, but I'm sure that title is over-ridden if you eat an entire of box in one sitting. They are not quite as delicious as Samoas, naturally, but they are mighty addictive so approach with caution.

Regardless of their calories, girl scout cookies always make me feel so good about myself because by eating them I am supporting an organization that helps young girls grow strong, while teaching invaluable sales skills that will be priceless in the business realm. Or at least that's my excuse for eating 2 boxes in a row. What's yours?

Didn't You Know That I was an Emperor?

In so many ways, I am an emperor at heart, sitting upon my cyberspace throne, exuding my great authority over my kind subjects. In reality, I am the lowest notch on the totem pole, and no matter how much a squawk, my supervisors above me do not want to take me seriously. Yesterday was a prefect example of this. I've told both of my supervisors, three times now that 30% of our research materials are getting lost in the mail, and we either need to relabel the packages or call the post office to see if they keep undelieveable mail and to see if they have a big pile of it with our name on it. But do they listen to me? Of course not! I'm just a lowly research analyst hired to do the same mundane task over and over again. There's no possible way that I could ever be right! But that's okay. My time will come. My tarot card says that I am strong and powerful and in time I will step up and be the leader I was always destined to be. See for yourself, it says...

You are an authority figure, and other people look to you for what to do. You are strong and powerful. Crossing you is not a good idea. You have worked hard to get to your position, and you're not about to give it up to anyone. Though you have a warrior heart, you are gentle to those who treat you well. Your fortune: In the near future, you need to be willing and able to defend those you love. This may be the time for you to step up and be the authority figure to those around you. It is time for you to be independent, to become your own person. You may need to look at your relationship with your father, or your relationships as a father.

What Tarot Card Are You?

Don't Worry the test is completely painless. I promise.

Coupling

When I was younger, I was sure that the art of coupling could not be as difficult as everyone made it out to be. However, sometimes I find myself in the same shipwrecked boat as some of my favorite soap opera characters, tragically thrown off course from my quest to find the Holy Grail of relationships. Although I’m in no big hurry to see a ring on my finger, I am very impatient to know the conclusion of all of my growing pains because it’s the mystery of the unknown in my finances, career, and love life that keep me up at night.

I always think of myself as a very logical person, thinking things through and deciding what is best for my future, but so far this process hasn’t worked in any of my relationships. Every time I use logic to start a relationship, it always leads to boredom and numbness. I still do not understand the arbitrary force the drives me in relationships, but it clearly has a more effective strategy than my head because when I let that force work unhindered magic always follows.

Sadly, I have little magic to report from this weekend’s adventures, but I will say that the abstract force that controls my heart probably saved me from three different gentleman who I’m sure in the end would have bored me to tears. One of the men was absolutely gorgeous but nothing under the surface to move me. The second was very charming, but unfortunately not very easy on the eyes. And though there was a lot under the surface to perk my interests, it’s all for nothing if there is no real attraction. And lastly a blast from the past decided to resurface, calling me after a year and a half hiatus. He was a prefect mix of attractiveness and substance, so I decided to give the slacker the benefit of the doubt and agreed to met him if for no other reason than to figure out why our spark fizzled out.

We had the best dates ever with candlelit dinners, and Gene Kelly/Fred Astair dancing in the park. There was definitely magic there all those years ago, but I think that’s what scared him away. I think that he, like so many other men his age, does not date in the hopes of finding something real. Having a fling is so easy and uncomplicated that maybe having an emotional connection with someone and actually caring about them is too intimidating. I understand why he disappeared, but I can’t forgive it. Our time has past and at least in my heart the magic is gone.

Yet, knowing all of this, it’s still hard to look at a perfectly amiable man who clearly adores me and know without a doubt that I would never be able to love him. I keep on thinking that I'm missing something, that if I try this or that that it would work, but love can’t be determined by how attractive, how successful, or how much potential you see in the other person. It’s more like a bolt of lightening that is beyond my control, and it rarly strikes with the same person twice.