On Taking the Plunge

Humility & Strength.

Whether we take the plunge into the unknown, making ourselves vulnerable to the potential pain associated with change and growth or, alternately, maintain a protective layer of impenetrable armor, the ability to prevent fear and humility is nearly impossible.  With each humbling fall backward, we gain strength and confidence to reverse the inevitable aftermath and continue on our path in the opposite direction.  Enjoy!
 
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On Worse Than Death

Public Speaking.

It's true that some people would rather die than speak in public, making glossophobia the #1 fear in the whole wide world.  Which is why I immediately joined Toastmasters when I found out I'd be giving weekly workshops in my (then) new job, as well as presenting (for less than 5 minutes!) to faculty and staff on a semi-regular basis.  And Toastmasters changed my life (almost immediately) when forced, in actual tears, to stand up in front of a crowded conference table of fellow fearful speakers to realize that with enough time (usually 2 minutes once I'm up there) and eventual confidence, I would not only confront my fear head on but actually enjoy it.  Enjoy!   

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On Snow Storms

Heading back to the east coast a day early (thanks to the impending storm) for a weekend of wedding celebrations, happy hours, and much-needed family time.  This blog will resume on Tuesday, February 26th! 

On the Almost Bride

The Eventually-Ending Story.

It's the relationship that nearly resulted in a proposal with champagne and  wildflowers, and eventually a Vera Wang wedding gown with sequence-laced rose petals to match the bright red Manolo Blahniks you've been eying since the early 90s.  The house, the children, the fantasies of growing old together laid out on the table for friends and family, and maybe even the neighbors to see, all of whom disguised their relentless concern with moderate delight as each milestone - anniversaries, eclipses, Presidents' birthdays - signified yet another 365 (+) days of a relationship doomed to fail.  As the Almost Bride, you wait until the perfect moment to confront your eventually-ending story of a life that could have been in exchange for the one that will actually be...someday.  Enjoy!  

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On Choosing Carefully

Personality Theory.

In the world of personality theory, I am a very strong feeling-type, which basically means I make the majority (if not all) of my decisions based on other people’s emotions (as opposed to considering the given non-emotional facts).  While under some circumstances this inclination can result in my effortless demise, this also means that I take extra care (and joy!) when choosing the most suitable birthday or holiday gifts for friends and family alike, and anything less is unacceptable.  My greatest gift-giving feat, to date, involved renting an ice-skating rink for my roommate’s first Hanukah in Brooklyn, NY, but other – less laudable moments – range from surprise plane tickets (to Colorado) to “hangover pants,” the world’s softest fleece sweats that promise to cure even the slightest hangover but frequently result in a (cozy-induced) coma.  Enjoy!

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On Yoga Brain

Turning Things Off.

I've finally done it, gone ahead and committed to minimally 2 days per week of yoga classes (with a friend) after a mutual New Year's resolution to do our bodies some good.   Nearly two months in, we're thoroughly enjoying it, as our wholehearted efforts to balance on one foot stifle (our novice) moans from unsuccessful attempts at twisting into ungodly positions.  Our yoga instructors promise it will get easier, and so we choose only to trust in their serene commitment to our practice. Except for one thing: we can't seem to shut our minds off when the rest of the room is staying in the moment.  In fact, with each calm reminder and deep(er) breath, the moment slips further from our grasp, as the distractions of today's nuances, tomorrow's responsibilities, observations of the art on the yoga studio walls or the dirt on the wood-paneled floors, or the uncanny flexibility of the girls on nearby mats, or the strangely attractive voices of our spiritual guides of that particular class, or the itch on our lower backs bombard our moment, putting unnecessary pressure on our inability to just be, forcing us - in turn - to question our decisions to be yogis in the first place.  Enjoy!  

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On Name Games

 "Curious Carly."

There's nothing worse than finding ourselves in the middle of a heart-to-heart with what's-her-name (or what's-his-name) and, later, recounting their woeful tale to a roommate or friend without actually knowing who we're talking about.  It's time we stop shying away from asking someone to repeat their name minutes, days, maybe even months into our relationship since, chances are, the other person will potentially admit to the same shameful shortcoming. Once first names are clarified, relationship bonding can ensue.  Enjoy!  

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On Okay, Cupid

Simple Celebrations.

I was 23-years-old when I cried through my first Valentine's Day dinner because, instead of roses and chocolate, I got hummus and baba ghanous.  The truth is the meal was perfect, filled with my favorite foods and the restaurant all to ourselves (how romantic!). But I was blinded by Valentine propaganda that said new relationships should be celebrated with flowers and sugar and nothing that really matters to us.  And, so, I have grown wiser with Cupid Holidays past, and, today, celebrate affections with friends and romantic partners alike, good conversation, a bottle of wine, and a home-cooked meal (preferably Mediterranean) because, the truth is, nothing's more romantic than these simple celebrations.  Enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day!

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On the Finish Line

Blood, Sweat, & Tears.

How we get to the finish line of our overly-anticipated race depends on a combination of carefully calculated game plans and fate.   Curve balls are dodged, road maps revised, and great expectations tempered with unpredictability.  Once on the other side, we breath heavy sighs of relief and reflection over our accomplishments and tribulations, with only a quick moment to gear up for the next.  Enjoy!

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On Keeping Quiet

Moral Compasses.

We all have secrets, whether we create them for ourselves or keep them close for other people's comfort.  Our moral compasses balance the weight of information (at times) too painful to share, as we debate with certainty who else to include in our secret-solidarity.  Whether we keep the information or whisper it closely to (one)(two)(maybeeventhree) co-conspirators, our pride bursts over the fact that we know something the rest of the world knows nothing about.  Enjoy!

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On Platonic Romance

Friends Without Benefits.

In search for the soul mate who finishes our sentences, brings us breakfast in bed, and surprises us with singing telegrams on milestone birthdays, attempting to fit two unmatched puzzle pieces into semi-jagged holes only brings us further from our goal.  And so the quest ensues until all of a sudden (usually when we least expect it), morning coffee is brewed over scrabble games of synchronicity and handmade (birthday) cards alike.  Enjoy! 

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On Family Theft

Other People's Things.

My childhood thievery can be counted on one hand and includes loose change from my parents junk drawer (for 25¢ bags of potato chips), Revlon lipsticks from neighborhood drug stores, and my sister's middle school diary.  The latter was my greatest and most depressing accomplishment because, first, I had to pry open the lock with minimal disguise (I tore into the cardboard cover to do it) and, second, I read things I didn't want to know - that her little sister was a big brat! At the time, a hard chip to swallow and an even bigger mess to clean up. Enjoy!  

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On Woody Allen Syndrome

Enforcing Quarantines.

Halfway through flu season, I have officially alienated people that I care about who aren't my family.  It's one thing to grow up in a household where your blood-related relatives wholeheartedly accept your quirks and quarantines because they have no other choice.  It's another thing to bring your borderline-hypochondriac craziness into the daily lives of folks whose awareness of how extreme these gestures can become is nearly non-existent.  And, yet, halfway across the country from my all-embracing kin, I find myself with no other options - dodging plans with recent pukers (*my fears are specifically emetophobic) and maintaining necessary distances when confronted in person.  Enjoy! 

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On Being Frustrated

The Eventual Writer.

The first time I took the pen to the page was during senior year of college when I enrolled in my first (and only) creative (fiction) writing class.  On day one, the teacher declared that she only gave out grades in the b-range, that her husband was the mastermind behind the famous elephant books called Babar, and, oh yeah, feel free to stop by during office hours.  Over the next few months, I struggled relentlessly to create characters, dialogue, and story lines that captured the reader (let alone myself) and eventually found myself taking her up on her office-hours-invitation, deperate for advice.  I told her how frustrated I was, that I didn't know how to write, that I hated it, that what came naturally for others didn't work for me, and that I shouldn't be in her class. Her response (while simple and direct) changed everything. She said, Write about what you know.  A few months later, I got an A in the class and, several years after that, I found myself blogging about being unrelated, human nature and everyday life.  Enjoy!

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On the Einstein Experience

Being Labelled.

Faced with the familiar dilemma to change my (famous) last name following matrimonial formalities, I'm caught between between embracing the traditional nominal shift of becoming my partner’s respective Missus or, alternately, sustaining my remaining lifetime via (what’s I’ve recently come to coin) "The Einstein Experience."  Multiple times per week – sometimes per day! – I am invited into platonic flirtations with mere strangers over a shared interest in science and/or the written language, during which one of us usually blushes with giddy embarrassment. Either I shamefully admit how little I actually know about my, er, great (great) grandfather or, likewise, they take me up on my offer after an initial solo attempt at sounding-it-out (uh, yeah, about that spelling…).  These moments, however fleeting and forgettable, provide me with easy entrée into the vulnerability of human nature which, in spite of my enthusiastic embrace of becoming someone's wife, I’m not sure I’m willing to give up.  Would you? (Enjoy!)

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On Justifying Habits

 TV for Smart People.

While I tacitly disagree with those embarrassed television-watchers who spend more time justifying their habit than dissecting the complicated characters of whichever prime-time drama they spent an entire weekend watching (oh, the horror!), I simultaneously peruse my personal list of evening companions and marvel at the intensity of my relationship(s) to their fictional plights.  Their grief becomes my grief, their decisions my own, and then I take our shared lessons learned, the heartache, and the joy into my daily life and relationships, and (of course) the water cooler conversation of the following morning.  (Watch &) Enjoy!

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On Brooklyn Born

Physical Limitations.

Growing up in Brooklyn, sports wasn't in my vocabulary, except at sleep away summer camp that one time I was forced to run one lap around a soccer field and quickly cried my way out of a second.  I used the same tactics to get out of swim class in day camp years earlier, and ranch camp in 1991 when I was too scared to get into the stall with my overly-calm horse, Pepper.  In college, unbeknownst to me, we had to run one mile around a track to qualify out of "running gym," I barely passed the finish line and - mortified and exhausted - cried myself to sleep.  Now, in Denver, where the oxygen level is 18 percent less than the air in which I grew up, I force myself to overcome my fears of physical limitation and make up for the un-athletic childhood I once welcomed with unpracticed arms and tear-stricken confidence through daily exercise and a renewed urban outlook.  Enjoy!  

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