Valentines, Shmalentines

Valentines Day… you either love it or hate it.

This year is my year to hate it.

Growing up, Valentines Day had nothing to do with romance.  It meant chocolate from my parents and fun little V-Day cards from my classmates.  It meant pink and red construction paper and Little Debbie Valentines cakes.  It was sweet, and it was fun.

Once you surpass the age of 15, Valentines Day becomes less about candy and more about love and crushes from the opposite sex.  It’s either a success, or a day to wear black and announce that “Love sucks.”

My past three Valentines Days were spent with my ex-boyfriend with roses, expensive dinners and lovin’ for dessert.  I was one of the lucky few who got to enjoy Valentines Day because I had somebody to share it with.  Forget the fact that we fought every other day of the year and were completely wrong for each other; for that one day we had each other to celebrate, a day to remember the reasons why we loved each other.

Well my life has changed drastically since last Valentines Day, and this year he will be sharing our former day of celebration with someone else.  He will shower her with roses and a nice dinner.  I will take comfort in knowing that these presents come but one day a year and that she is now the one dealing with the cheapskate, unreliable boyfriend.  But that doesn’t change the fact that this Valentines Day, I will be alone.

The rest of the world will wine and dine at their favorite restaurants and dive into bed the minute they get home.  I will sit on the couch by myself and stuff my stomach to fill the void while all of my best friends snuggle with their significant others and receive sappy cards from the ones they love.

It’s just another day, I tell myself and all of the other single females out there dreading the forthcoming holiday of gloom.  Celebrate yourself, because that’s one of the most significant relationships you will ever have.  Send cards to your parents and your siblings and your grandparents.  Ignore the love section in Hallmark and change the channel when the Valentines jewelry store commercials come on TV.  Who knows?  Maybe it will be the last Valentines Day we spend alone for the rest of our lives.  Anything can happen in a year.

Carpe Diem

You see the term everywhere – Carpe Diem. Seize the day.

It never really had much meaning to me, until this year.  When 2010 approached, my life changed almost immediately.  I woke up from my daze.  I realized that this year, I would turn 25-years-old. To some, this is not old, in fact, most people would say that this is incredibly young and you would be considered as “in your prime”.  But to the young girl who still can’t believe she has been out of high school for almost six years and out of college for almost two, it’s quite the slap in the face.  Wasn’t I just in high school being crazy and careless?  Wasn’t I just attending my first party?  Receiving my first kiss?  It hit me like an 18-wheeler and I came to the inevitable conclusion – I am not getting any younger, and that is frightening as hell.

When I was 8-years-old, I dreamed of an extravagant Barbie dream house with a pink convertible parked in the driveway and a stable full of white horses…and no, I wasn’t a doll – it was all life-size, and it was my reality.

When I was 13-years-old, I dreamed of being a big movie star that lived a lavish life of luxury.  I wanted magnificent, fur coats, bed spreads made of the finest silk and of course, a personal staff to take care of every little detail of my day.

When I was 18-years-old I wanted to be a fashion designer with the trendiest and most cutting-edge innovations.  I wanted to be the next John Galliano, Betsey Johnson or Vivienne Westwood – vibrant colors, funky patterns and an overall look that certainly pushed the envelope in the world of couture.  I wanted a sexy, slick, white Bentley Coupe to pair nicely with my villa in Milan and my penthouse in NYC.

Now, at the age of almost 25, I have not accomplished any of these goals.  No, they may not be 100% realistic and could be considered childish but wasn’t that the greatest part about being young?  You could dream whatever you wanted to dream, no matter how outlandish some thought it was. You were never judged for wanting something more. Now?  I work a dead-end job at a company that has a glass ceiling.  I am overworked and underpaid (story of everyone’s life – right?).  I do not live in New York City, have a staff, or drive a Bentley.  These raw conclusions that I have come to turns with make my stomach curl.  I want and deserve more.

I’m taking this year and making it mine.  I am going to live a little selfishly.  It’s all about seizing the day.  Taking what is rightfully yours and running with it. It’s about accepting reality and moving forward but still living for today because we only have one life and one shot at it – we better make it our very best.  If I’m going to do this life right, I’m going to live it as a rockstar.  Carpe Diem.

A Lonely Kind of Heart

It’s hard to be single when all of your friends have boyfriends.  It’s hard to be single after having somebody by your side for three years.  It’s hard to be single when you live alone and don’t have roommates around to keep you company.  Most of all, it’s hard to be single when you’re scared that you’re never going to find anybody else that you love quite the same way that you loved someone else before.

I keep telling myself that this is the time to enjoy being single, that hopefully the next guy I meet will be the one that I spend the rest of my life with and when that time comes, my days of only worrying about myself will be over forever.  I tell myself to concentrate on me, enjoy the days of taking care of myself and myself only, especially after three long and trying years of worrying about my ex-boyfriend constantly.  I tell myself that this is the time you deserve to concentrate on you.

So why do I feel lonely when I come home at night and there’s nobody there anymore to kiss me hello?  Why do my weekends feel worthless having nobody to share them with?  Why do I become depressed when I fall into bed at the end of the day and there’s nobody there to kiss me goodnight?

I miss the comfort.  I miss the excitement.  I miss having someone to look forward to seeing, having someone to miss.  I miss the snugness of cuddling up with a warm, familiar body.  I miss cooking dinner together at night, and having someone always by my side when we’re out with friends at the bar to grab my hand and reassure me that he is there.  I miss the laughs, and the comfort of being 100% myself around somebody with no worries that they will love me any less.  I miss the phone calls and text messages, I miss the comfort of knowing somebody like the back of my hand and being able to predict what they are going to say or do next.  I miss the passion and the emotions and the fighting and the tears and the making up and the  l o v i n g  e a c h o t h e r.

I’ve had it before.  I’ll have it again.  But I worry that it won’t be the same, that the next guy will always be in comparison of my ex-boyfriend, who as much as I wish I could say I’m 100% over, I’m not.  He wasn’t right for me in so many ways, but I can’t help but remember all the ways that he was.  I’m moving on, I’m thinking realistically, I know we were not meant to be, but I miss him sometimes.  I do.  And while I know that it’s naive and immature for me to think this, I worry that I’m never going to find anybody else that will make me feel the way that he did. 

I try so hard to be strong, to put on a brave face.  Inside, I’m lonely.  And I’m scared.

A Sliver of Hope

My daily Note from the Universe woke me up this morning as it hit my inbox on my Blackberry.  I read it and knew it was going to be a good day.

The BIG THING, Michelle, rarely happens when you ask for it, nor does it typically come from who or where you expect.  It usually comes a bit later, from someone you didn’t even know when you first asked, as a result of some weird turn of events that were impossible to foresee.

So, chill.  Be patient.  Enjoy the moment.  And let your friends, employers, and partners off the hook.  Besides, they’re going to have enough to deal with when the BIG THING does arrive, if you know what I mean.

Won’t be long,

      The Universe

Funny how my daily Notes from the Universe sometimes coincide with exactly what I need to hear.

Office Blues

It’s 9:30 AM.  I have 7 1/2 hours left of the work day.  I have absolutely nothing to do.

It’s highly possible that by the end of the day all my hair will have been pulled out or I will have jumped out of a window.  I will have read the news from every major U.S. news website.  I will have the statuses of my Facebook friends memorized.  I will have checked Twitter on my Blackberry at least 30 times and will know exactly what every major Twitter celebrity is up to out in Hollywood.  I will have thoroughly annoyed my friends via text, because they actually have lives or jobs that keep them occupied, and I can’t keep myself from texting them every couple of hours to alert, “I’M BORED!”

Why do I stay here, you ask?  Here’s a rundown of the reasons:

1. I adore the people I work for.  They are the most genuine, nice, caring folks and they make me feel like I am an integral part of their company.

2. Finding a new job isn’t easy, to say the least.  I exhausted myself with the job search for almost a year, and I’m not quite ready to fall back into the abyss of endless cover letters and selling my soul to an employer who won’t give me a second glance.

3. I get health benefits, 3 weeks vacation a year, as many sick days as needed, a Christmas bonus and I’ve only worked here since April.  Oh, and I only work 35 hours a week.  Not many companies give entry level employees such luxuries.

4. I enjoy the work that I do, when I have it to do.  It just comes far and few between.

Are all of those reasons worth the tears of boredom that run down my face every day?  I could never work for nicer people, nor have the benefits and flexible schedule that I have now.  But I’m not intellectually pushed enough, nor creatively stimulated.  I need a position that allows my creativity and passion to run rampant.  I need to be challenged; a position that makes me accomplish things that I didn’t know I could do.

I’m pretty stagnant and comfortable here.  I’m scared that might be one of the biggest reasons I’m choosing to stay.

I’m scared to push myself.  I’m not willing to give up the flexibility of this position in order to work somewhere that may be a little more rigid, but will challenge me more in the end.

So until I get the courage to dive back into the job search, I’ll be here.  Or on Facebook, or Twitter, or CNN.  Or splattered on the ground outside the window.  Grrrr.

Never Too Old for Butterflies

“But that’s just it, the butterflies never seem to accompany the right people. All the nice guys who are right for you, they never make your stomach go flip flop.” -Dawson’s Creek

Okay, I know I’m 23 years old and quoting Dawson’s Creek, but it doesn’t get more true than that.  I’ve been on a couple dates in the past couple months, and while the guys were nice enough, they just didn’t do it for me.  They did everything right.  They were smart, friendly, seemed into me.  But when I kissed them, I felt nothing.  I was bored and I found myself wondering what I was missing on TV.  I didn’t want to rip their clothes off, and the feelings going on in my stomach felt nothin’ like butterflies.

Example #1:  Let’s call him Scott.  He was totally into me, he was older, had a great job, made good money, cute enough, drove a big truck.  He said all the right things.  He made me laugh.  He even called when he said he would.  So how come when I kissed him, I felt nothing except for the desire to push him away?

Just because a guy is right on paper, doesn’t mean that you will have the right chemistry.  Two people have to click.  There has to be that inexplicable spark, no matter how wonderful the guy may seem.

When I couldn’t make myself like this guy, I turned to my sister, three years older than me, for advice.  I asked her why I wasn’t feeling butterflies, why I wasn’t excited when he called.

“Maybe you’re too old for butterflies,” she told me.

Really?  I don’t think anybody should ever be too old for butterflies.  It’s the best part of a relationship, when everything is brand new and exciting, when you still won’t let him see you without makeup and your stomach flip flops when you see his name on your caller ID.  My hope for the world is that 40-something divorcees still feel butterflies with their first new relationship after a 20 year marriage.  If there’s no butterflies, what’s the point?  I thought that was the point.  I refuse to believe that butterflies are something we outgrow.

So in the meantime, while I’m waiting to find that pack of butterflies that seems to have flown far, far away, I will maintain hope.  He’s out there somewhere, and he’s waiting to give me butterflies too.  I will continue to date, learning more from each new man I meet what it is that will make me go weak in the knees.  I’ll know it when I find it.  Trust me.

Oh bring us some figgy pudding…

I’m pretty sure the holidays are gonna be the death of me.  Just this week, we’ve had carrot cake cupcakes, fudge, cookies, chocolate covered pretzels, homemade candy, muffins and gourmet chocolates in the office.  Thank you vendors for making me fat. 

I walk into the copy/print room at least 30 times a day, where an abundance of sweets call at me from their spot on the counter.  I try to look straight ahead and not let my eyes shift to the left, but it’s like a magnetic force that locks my eyeballs to the plate of goodness in front of me.  “Don’t do it,” I tell myself, but my fingers don’t listen.

I have to make copies.  I grab a chocolate covered pretzel.

I have to pick up something off the printer.  I swipe a cookie.

I need to use the fax machine.  I pop a piece of candy into my mouth.

I have to… Dangit, what was it I came in here for again?  I swear I think those cupcakes are calling my name…

Self control!  Where are you?

Yes, we’re allowed to let ourselves go a little bit over the holidays.  It’s impossible to resist Mom’s cheesecake and Granny would be sad if I didn’t try her latest homemade candy.  And let’s face it, I would be sad if I didn’t try it too. 

But remember that it’s all about portion control.  Allow yourself to savor a piece of carrot cake, but don’t go back for seconds.  Enjoy the ham and mashed potatoes, but eat slowly and stop when you’re full.  Whatever you do, don’t deprive yourself or you will only want it more.  Satisfy your cravings, but do it in moderation.  That extra plate of casserole might taste fantastic for about five minutes, but you’re going to regret those extra helpings when your scale tells you that you’ve gained five pounds.

Enjoy the holidays, but don’t go nuts.  Have a happy, healthy holiday season and maintain a happy, healthy post-holiday weight.  Happy eating!

Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree

A few of my favorite holiday tune recommendations.  Pour some hot chocolate, sit by the Christmas tree and enjoy. 

Grown Up Christmas List – Amy Grant

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas – Judy Garland

Don’t Save It All For Christmas Day – Celine Dion

Silent Night - Jewel

Happy Xmas (And So This Is Christmas)– John Lennon

Breath of Heaven – Amy Grant

All I Want For Christmas Is You – Mariah Carey

O Holy Night – Linda Eder

Santa Baby – Eartha Kitt

Silver Bells – Martina McBride

Where Are You Christmas? - Faith Hill

I’ll Be Home For Christmas – Michael Buble

The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire) – Michael Buble

It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas – Johnny Mathis

Baby, It’s Cold Outside – Dean Martin / Doris Day

Merry Christmas Baby – Hanson

Ave Maria – Celine Dion

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays – NSYNC

The Bells of St. Paul – Linda Eder

Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree – Brenda Lee

All Alone On Christmas – Darlene Love

Mary, Did You Know – Clay Aiken

Believe – Josh Groban

Away In A Manger – Kenny G

Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy – The Nutcracker

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen – Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Who Would Imagine A King – Whitney Houston

Sleigh Ride - Ella Fitzgerald

What I love about Winter

Although I love warm weather, fresh sand, the smell of salt water and the feeling of the scorching sun beating down on my lightly bronzed skin, there is something indescribable and inexplicably delicious about the Winter season.

The little things that I adore…

Blankets of winter white snow

The sound of crackling firewood

Giant, cozy sweatshirts

A mug of hot cocoa with mini marshmallows

The smell of cinnamon

Gingerbread men

Freshly baked sugar cookies shaped like little Christmas trees

Earmuffs and mittens

Holiday cheer

Spending time with family and friends

Sweaters for my pups

Snowmen

Snuggling up with a blanket, good book and gorging out on Chinese food from the container

Christmas lights

Christmas music

Eggnog

Making smores by the fire

Watching holiday movies

The crinkling sound of wrapping paper

Holiday parties

Peppermint

Snow globes

Poinsettia

Funky ornaments

Sparkling snowflakes

It’s important for us all to take in this special time of year and truly enjoy it while it lasts.  Spend quality time with your loved ones and embrace the magical world of Winter time.  What do you love about this time of year?

The Magic of Christmas

I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to be in a bad mood the month of December.  I don’t even grumble when my alarm goes off.  I rub my eyes, sit up, yawn, stretch and open my blinds to the glorious December sun, all with a smile on my face.  Birds chirp outside my window and Christmas songs play in my head.  I’m like a scene right out of a cheesy movie.

Okay, okay, so maybe that’s a stretch, but seriously, getting out of bed in the morning isn’t half as bad in December.  Everything is brighter at Christmastime.  The sun is shining when I wake up and I have come to enjoy the morning hours before I arrive at work.  There’s something fresh and brand new about the 8:00 hour.  A new day; new possibilities.  There’s an extra bounce in my step on the way to my car in the morning as my heels click on the pavement and I wrap my winter coat around me.  I listen to Christmas music on the radio and drive a little slower, taking in the cheery holiday decorations around town.  I smile when I pass Christmas tree lots and my heart warms when I see ridiculously decorated houses.  There’s no such thing as going overboard at Christmas.  I make a point to get up earlier so I will have time to stop at Starbucks in the morning and pick up a Grande White Mocha, because what says Christmas better than red Starbucks cups and the delicious smell of coffee?  I don’t even mind the line or the wait, as long as Christmas songs are playing in the store and cute business men are waiting alongside of me for our morning cup of joe.

There is sadness to the Christmas season though.  There’s the knowledge that it will not last and the desperate grasp to hang onto the splendor of it all.  At the break of dawn on December 26th, the decorations around town have gone as quickly as they appeared.  The morning commute to work becomes mundane again and the excitement in the air disappears.  We must wait another 11 months until the cheer comes back around again.  That’s the magic of the Christmas season.  It comes and goes in the blink of an eye.

Slow down. Take a breath.  Feel the winter air on your cheeks and inhale the scent of Christmas pine.  Smile at a stranger on the street.  Spare a couple of dollars for the Salvation Army Santa and thank them for sharing the spirit of Christmas.  Turn up the radio and listen to the words of whatever Christmas song is playing, no matter how cheesy it may be.  Forget about your bank account and the stress of buying presents for too many people.  Remember why you are buying them.  Count your blessings.  Go to church.  Look into the eyes of a child and remember the enchantment of Christmas.  Write a letter to Santa.  Get your picture made with Santa.  Bake cookies.  Hug your parents.  Stop on the street and glance up at the December sun.

It is bright, all is good, and magic is in the air.