life done write

.One.
I am a genius.

I say this because I have just had an epiphany. And by just, I actually mean two days ago on a plane. But whatever. Still genius.

Okay, so the epiphany: what is it about airline travel that makes people the most miserable (aside from being in a middle seat between two very large people whose elbows happen to be causing bruising on your arms)?

That is right: screaming babies! You win a prize.

At first I was thinking, gee, would not it be nice if there were baby-free flights available. That would be stellar. Then I thought, the airlines might lose business or try to charge more for baby-free flying. So I rethought. And came up with the grand idea that people should be seated on airlines according to their annoyance probability factor. Aka. babies sit all the way in the back. Teenagers traveling in large groups sit in front of the babies. People who often complain and make a scene at the airlines get black-listed and have to sit in front of the teenagers. And professionals get the front of the plane.

I still might have to faintly hear a baby, but it is WAY WAY better than sitting next to one right in the center of the plane where everyone can hear it clearly.

See, told you. Genius.

.Two.
For those of you who do not do much by way of international travel, I feel the need to explain: international keyboards are set up massively differently than American keyboards. Therefore, please forgive my lack of apostrophes. I have no idea how to create one on this machine.

.Three.
The philosophy of Roommate 1 regarding traveling and cute dresses: “I pretty much just wear an outfit until it really smells. Then I switch.”

See what I have to put up with.

.One.
This weekend at Starbucks: met the world’s most attractive man. Mostly deemed so because of a kick-ass smile that made his eyes crinkle up in an adorable way. Also, nicely built. Also, amazing eyes. If said man does not email me soon, I am going to be considerably sad. And may try to stalk him online anyway.

.Two.
Feeling very freed up at the moment after finalizing most of the details of my later-this-summer Europe trip. Finalized details include two new shoe purchases specifically for the trip and two other new shoe purchases that I couldn’t resist. Oh yeah.

.Three.
Happiness is a much greater attractor than attractiveness. Or at least that’s been my experience. The less stressed I am, the more I get hit on. Thus the eight-month-long dry spell that coincided with being over-tasked at work. See? Also thus the exceedingly many pick-up lines used on me this weekend while I was happily plugging away at Switzerland planning and writing things I love.

.Four.
Yesterday, while out drinking at one of Denver least fine establishments (Falling Rock Brewery — mean, unresponsive staff, gross facilities), was hit on by a strange, drunk and frightening looking Asian man who was holding my married friend on his lap. Totally awesome. Also, said hitting on happened diagonally across a full table of about 10 people, causing everyone else to stop their conversations and listen to my awkward…”uh, no…I don’t have a boyfriend…uh…” Good freaking times.

.Five.
Did I mention the man with the amazing smile? Because I would like to snuggle him please. Thank you.

I’ve always considered myself a reliable person. If I say I’m going to be there, I’ll be there, with bells on and probably half an hour early. If I say I’ll get it done, I’m going to get it (and probably something additional that you maybe might kind of sort of want because it makes your life easier or your content better) done.

I like this about myself.

However, with this character trait comes some more difficult traits to combat–like saying no or changing my mind. If I say I want to come to your party, but then I decide I really don’t feel well or work beat me into the ground that day, I have a really hard time backing out. Even with lots of notice. If I want to adopt a puppy from you, but you call me early and the timing is all wrong and I’m not ready, I do back out, but I feel bad and off-kilter.

Part of this is because I hate when people don’t come through for me. I’ve spent too many evenings sitting in a restaurant alone because everyone who RSVPed for girls night out decided at the very last second that they couldn’t make it. I’ve spent enough time planning a big dinner and then eating most of it myself because people didn’t show up. So, I never want to be that person.

Another part of this is that I’m a care taker. I want to take care of you. I want to make sure your life is not negatively impacted by any action of mine (however small that impact might be). I attribute this one to growing up in my household, which some of you may understand:

As the oldest daughter and the most well-traveled person in the family, I had a slightly different perspective on life. I’ll illustrate this by telling you that when I got back from teaching AIDS awareness classes in Africa when I was 15, I asked mom how her summer was and was regaled with updates on who was winning American Idol and how many people had been shot on CSI.

Anyhow, that perspective meant that in a very real way, I was the family mediator. In screaming (and I do mean SCREAMING) conflicts between my devil-may-care sister and my Conservative (capitalization on purpose) parents, I’d spend my time going back and forth, explaining to each person in the family how the other person was feeling.

“It isn’t that you are wrong, per say. It’s just that you made her feel like you think she’s stupid…”

I only remember once taking care of myself at the expense of someone else’s feelings. And that was when I’d had enough of my parents commenting loudly and frequently on my weight when I came home from college.

Not that you should leave other people’s feelings out of the equation, but don’t you sometimes have to take care of yourself?

Anyway, I find it hard to change my mind. Unless I’ve told no one about my plans (which is why people are shocked when I get a puppy, though I’ve been thinking about it for years). I need to find balance in this.

And why is that balance so hard to find?

Okay, dad, I asked you nicely to stop.

So, everyone, today I’d like to introduce you to one of my dad’s least pleasant personality traits: the addictive, twitching, unending need to forward me stupid emails.

I’ve asked him to stop this behavior approximately 4,001 times, but he’s like an addict–he just can’t help but press that forward button. And when I ask him to PLEASE QUIT THAT, he lets me know that he thinks I’m being rude.

That’s fine. So, I’m rude. Also, you should PLEASE QUIT THAT.

The reason I’m writing about this today is that today I received three forwards from him. One of these forwards (3D images painted on ceilings and floors) was fine. Not life-enriching, but not soul-killing either. But two of these forwards fall into the waste-of-my-life category:

The first of these was a photo of a garbage truck in Palestine equipped with rocket launchers. Memo to dad: I do not live in Palestine; I am not in an army that will ever go to Palestine; and there is nothing I can specifically do about rocket launchers on garbage trucks. I’m not sure what the point of this forward was, except to upset me because I don’t want nice people in Palestine to die and to take a crap on Muslims everywhere (as the text of the email was not particularly Muslim-friendly).

There are insane people involved in any religion or ethnicity: can we all please just chill out and stop deciding that everyone in a particular religion falls into the category of the Muslims who flew planes into buildings or the Christians who shoot abortion doctors. How about we all agree that all crazy people who want to kill other people should be dealt with, regardless of what god or credo they are using to justify things. Okay?

The second forward from this morning that ate part of my soul was a video of some guy standing in front of a mosque talking about how Muslim people want to turn NYC into Mecca.

Oh no! Mecca! They’re going to take over the city and tear down everything and put up mosques everywhere!

Really, people? This is what you’re spending your time worrying about? Thing one: it isn’t happening. Thing two: PLEASE QUIT THAT.

Why don’t we focus our energy on things that actually matter and are actually happening, like children being sold into slavery around the world or genocide or, I don’t know, clean water for people who are dying of preventable diseases.

Other forwards dad has sent that waste people’s lives:

1. A forwarded video of a “pastor being tortured in America!” The email was all up in arms about the American military torturing this poor, poor American pastor.

Then you watch the actual video, which is of a man in his car, going through border patrol and being a HUGE JACKASS to the border police. He’s refusing to open his trunk. He’s refusing to get out of the car when things escalate. He’s refusing to cooperate in any way, shape or form. And, finally, in order to protect America from, oh, I don’t know, the bombs and things that dad’s other forwards are so worried about, the border patrol breaks the guy’s window and tasers him.

GOOD. If you are going to not cooperate with border patrol, they should taser you. Also, what does any of this have to do with said jerkoff being a pastor?

2. A really really really really old email about how some high schoolers in California hung the American flag upside down and proceeded to raise a Mexican flag.

The humanity!

They’re teenagers, people. They do crazy crap and you just ensured that they would continue with the crazy crap by making them quasi-famous. Leave them alone. This is not the same thing as them making threats to kill people or take away freedoms. Also, did I mention they are fourteen? What are they going to do?

In summary, your silly forwards make me respect you less, not more. How about respecting people’s requests to PLEASE QUIT THAT?

End rant.

Tonight, on a local radio station, a woman called in to ask for advice. Having come in halfway through the program, I don’t know the whole story, but the gist of her dilemma was as such:

She had been, for two years, in a relationship with a married man. She was starting to think he wouldn’t leave his wife for her. What should she do?

The show hosts hemmed and hawed and acted like this was a hard problem to solve. People called in and called her a sleaze. Other people called in with their “sorry, sweetheart, but he’s not going to leave his wife for you”s. And so forth.

And I wish just one person would have called in to make a larger point—not just, that happened to me and it sucked. You suck. Not just, aww, you poor dear.

What about love thy neighbor as thyself (or, for the religiously un-inclined: do unto others as you would have them do unto you)?

Think about the times in your life—whether they’re cheating-related or not—that someone else has chosen to do something that did you harm. Something that wounded you.

And then, ask yourself if not only your life, but the lives of those around you would be better off if that person had chosen a different path.

If we take care of each other, if we take a leaf from the Doctors’ book and “do no harm,” wouldn’t everyone be better off? If that person, who altered your life in some small way for the worse, had thought about your feelings, how would things be different?

Now, I understand that this wouldn’t solve all the hurt in the world—certainly, there are times when we have to do what’s best for us and others may not understand; certainly, there are times when relationships just don’t work out.

But the point is this: if every time you were faced with these sorts of dilemmas, you stopped and thought, if you asked yourself, would I want someone to do this to me? Would I want someone to do this to someone I loved? And if you chose to take care of the other person, regardless of whether you knew them—the world get just a little better, and a little better after that.

“I just can’t help it. But I love him.” The woman said.

I couldn’t help but wonder why we put so much stock in love—that love, no matter what kind of destruction you leave in your wake, somehow justifies you?

As an adult, you can’t keep making excuses based on your feelings. I bet Charles Manson “really couldn’t help it” either. I’m not comparing the crimes; I’m just saying the excuse has no legs to stand on.

Love is selfless. It’s not an excuse to mistreat people. So stop using it as one.

“I didn’t make any promises to her. I don’t even know her.” She cried.

You didn’t promise not to kick small children in the park or not to steal purses from old ladies either. And you might not know those children or those ladies. The reason you don’t do those things is because they harm other people.

And, honestly, why can’t we make promises to those we don’t know? Again, to do no harm. Why can we not—as a community—stand up and say that we are, yes, committed to our own happiness, but NOT AT THE EXPENSE OF ANOTHER? Why can’t we pledge to take care of each other? To care about a stranger as if that stranger were your own sister or mother or brother.

Their real daughter or sister or brother would be better for it.

Because harm has a ripple effect. You’re not just hurting the wife: you’re hurting the children, you’re hurting her friends, you’re hurting her family.

So don’t say that you made no promises. Your previous promises don’t matter. What does matter is this: love they neighbor as thyself. Love mercy. Do unto others. Do no harm.

Finally, she said “their relationship has problems.”

And the final note I’d like to make is A) that’s none of your business, B) someone else’s bad behavior is not an excuse for yours. (Didn’t your mother ever tell you that one?) and C) you only know his side of the story. Period.

If someone doesn’t mow their lawn, does that mean you can move into their house because you’d take care of the lawn better?

If someone never washes their car, does that mean you have the right to steal it?

(Those aren’t people! He’s making a choice!) Okay, if the teenager next door complains to you about her parents because she doesn’t like their rules, is it your right to kidnap her?

And, one last time: if it were you—if you were having some trouble with a boyfriend or a husband, but you hadn’t broken up and weren’t in the process of a breakup, would you want someone to knowingly go after your man? Sleep with him? Fall in love with him?

If things are really that bad, the man will leave. Three hundred bazillion men have done it before him. People have started over, walked away from bad relationships—even with complications. And if he does walk away, have at it.

But while he’s in that relationship, while he’s still leading her to believe that he’s committed to her—it’s not your place, however many bad things he’s said, to try and slip in there. You are not saving him. You’re harming her. And you’re harming you.

Which brings me to my final point: the girl who called was completely torn up and sad and hurt. She was afraid that the love of her life wouldn’t leave the other woman and run off with her. She wasn’t doing well.

So, even if you don’t care about the other woman, even if you don’t care about her kids and her family and her friends–please, care about yourself. Respect yourself enough to set appropriate boundaries and not let someone take from you without giving back. You aren’t happy, my darling, a fact which was very clear when you called in. So, at this stage of the game, why wouldn’t you say “goodbye–call me when you’re single.”

What have you got to lose? If he wants to be with you, he’ll get single. If he doesn’t, you can heal and move on. And you’ve stopped being an accomplice in harming someone else.

Please, my darling, darling readers: let’s take care of each other. Whether we know each other or not.