Unrequited Love

"Writing is a socially acceptable form of getting naked in public." ~ Paulo Coelho

Sometimes my blog has the ability to make me feel buck naked (or is it butt naked?).  Not literally, of course, but figuratively speaking.  Well, I must admit that I do sometimes write in the nude.  Okay, not really in the nude but wrapped in a towel having just come out of the bathtub feeling inspired to write (just to clarify – I wasn’t inspired by my own nakedness!).  As I sit here comfortably on my bed (fully-clothed!) with laptop and cup of tea (wishing I had a piece or two or ten of chocolate!), I can’t help but wonder how much of my clothing (and dignity!) I’ll be losing tonight with this blog post.

Okay, so the “freedom” theme from last week’s blog post has treacherously leached its way into this week’s blog post because it’s pretty much all I could think about this week (besides Sarah moving away for university, my new boyish haircut, work deadlines, my new boyish haircut, piano lessons, BFF’s honey coming home, piano practice (or lack of!), my sugar cravings, my new boyish haircut, and my sugar cravings!).  Every now and then (pretty much when I was asleep or awake), I found myself thinking: “What else do I need to do to be free?  What has me tied down or duct-taped or wrapped in chains?”   Dramatic, yes but nonetheless it is 100% honest! 

Think. Think. Think.

Love.  Unrequited. Love. 

When you think about unrequited love, what comes to mind?  Maybe a storyline in a novel you’ve read (there are so many!) or maybe a movie you watched (again…so many!) or maybe you’re thinking about your own experience (or experiences!) with unrequited love.  Well, when I think about unrequited love, I think about this “Dear Abby” letter that I read recently:

Dear Abby,

I’m in love.  Actually, I’ve been in love with “N” for 13+ years.  So what’s the problem, you ask?  Well, he doesn’t love me.  At least, I don’t think he does.  I’ve never asked him, actually.  Actually, I’ve never told him that I love him.  That’s right; it’s another sad case of unrequited love.

The moment I saw him, I knew.  There he stood…tall, dark and handsome, but there was so much more to him that I couldn't see yet felt.  We started off as colleagues.  He had a girlfriend at the time yet he was everything I always knew I always wanted (sorry that's a little twist on one of my favourite quotes from a movie - Fools Rush In).  His brain, his humour, his kindness, his vulnerability, his heart, his depth and his strength made him even sexier to me.  Yet I couldn't have him.  At least, I never thought I could have him.  That has been the theme of this 13-year long story of unrequited love.  He has come in and out of my life at the most opportune or inopportune times (depending on how you look at it!).  It’s usually when I'm starting a new relationship or ending one (or about to end one!).  How could he possibly know?  A phone call or an email from him has prompted boyfriends to wonder about this man.  Some boyfriends have become obsessed or worried or defensive at the mere sound of his name.  Can they tell just by the way I say his name?  Do I try too hard to convince them that he is "just a friend"?  Is it still a lie when you don't even know that you’re lying?  

How could I ever truly hide how he makes me feel or how my body, heart and soul remember everything about him?  Or how my heart beats faster when I think about him? Or how my breathing becomes irregular when he’s near? Or how the butterflies begin to stir in my stomach, as if they’ve just come out of their cocoon, when I hear his voice? How could I ever hide my trembling lips when I remember how they feel when his lips touch mine? How could I ever forget the way he pushes my hair out of my face or how my body responds when I hear him say my name or how we feel like one when we're together?  How could I forget how cute he sounds when he says “sweet!” or “nice!”?  How can I hide my excitement when I receive a text or e-mail from him that’s addressed to “Sweets” or “Babe” or “Dood”?   How can I ever forget his smell?  (There's something about his smell that drives me absolutely crazy - a possible study on pheromones?)

How is it possible to hide those feelings even when you think you're in love with another man?  No matter how hard I try to forget him, I can't.  He just keeps popping back into my life.  Is it possible that I just haven’t met the man who could make me forget “N” or maybe I'm not meant to forget him because he's "the one"?

What do I do?  Do I wait for him or is it time to move on?  I need your help!!!

Sincerely,

In love with a man I can’t have    

In love with a man who doesn’t want me

In love with a man who doesn’t know that I love him

Sadly unrequited in love

As I was writing reading this letter, I couldn’t help but think about the plethora of movies and books about unrequited love: The Holiday, Last Holiday, Rent, Bridget Jones, Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, Notting Hill, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Great Expectations, Great Gatsby, Anna Karenina, and the list goes on and on and on.  Is it a fact of life?  At some point in our lives do we all find ourselves in love unrequitedly?  In the books and movies, the girl gets the guy (I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her!), or she ends up heartbroken or she ends up hurt but with an eventual happy ending (The Holiday).  Regardless, I think it's time that I, I mean that, “Sadly unrequited in love” let “N” know that I’m, I mean that “Sadly unrequited in love” is in love with him or should I, I mean “Sadly unrequited in love” do what “The Rules” book says to do - wait for "N" to profess his love to me her, or should "Sadly unrequited in love” admit that she is actually me and accept that this story, my story, is simply a story of unrequited love (it's not a "Dear Abby" letter but I would be interested in getting her feedback!)?

Okay, so you’re probably wondering who I’ve been pining for all of these years (besides John Cusack!).  Well, my blog has probably given it away a million times – he’s a geek Greek!  I know that only rules out 90% of the world population (give or take a few million!) but who he is has nothing to do with this blog post because it’s all about unrequited love.  Actually, this blog post is less about unrequited love and more about letting go of this unrequited love and recognizing that I’m free to “break up” with my unrequited love.  It’s important to note that this blog post is not meant to weigh the pros and cons of my “relationship” with “N” because a) there are way too many pros and cons to list and I’m not sure I want to pick a side, b) we would have to address “friends with benefits” or “no strings attached” relationships (my parents and daughter read this blog!), c) I respect “N” too much and have no harsh feelings towards him (obviously!), and d) if he wanted to be in a relationship with me, he should have been a man and said so a long fucking time ago!   Clearly, no debate is needed :)

What I’ve discovered while writing/typing this blog post is that the beauty of unrequited love is that it's a mystery...you never know if it's truly unrequited or not.  In a way, my love for “N” seems so much more romantic (and tragic!) because it is unrequited.  I can’t help but wonder, if it was “requited love” would I still be interested? 

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.” ~ Albert Einstein

So after 13 years of loving this man, is it time to finally move on? 

Well, I've decided that the next time I receive a text message or email addressed to Dood, Sweets or Babe, I will not be responding.  That's right!  The pain is just too great so I'm closing the door on this tragic story of unrequited love.  Not only is the door closed, the door is locked, the chain is on, all three deadbolts are locked, the alarm has been activated, and the door has been sealed shut with crazy glue, caulking, scotch tape and duct tape.  There's no way in hell this door will ever be opened again. If it is, well someone should call David Copperfield because I'm sure he'd be interested in knowing how this impossible feat was made possible. 

Freedom???  I'm not quite sure yet.   

Okay, so now that I’ve moved on.  What?  Wait a minute!  I’ve moved on already?  Wow that was easy!  :P

Seriously though, I can’t help but wonder if there’s a mathematical equation that could help me let go and move forward.   I actually had this thought while watching an episode of Num8ers (a great show that used math to solve criminal cases but it was cancelled!).  The mathematician in the show had written a book about the mathematics of love so I’m wishing thinking there must be a mathematical equation that would predict the next phase of my love life (not that I’m in a hurry - I need to let my hair grow out - but it would be nice to know that there is someone waiting in the wings!).   I think I’ll start with a sequential non-linear differential mathematical equation that would compute data from my previous relationships to forecast my love life.  Let’s see what happens…

T = a girl named Tracey

Meets the following boys:

E = 1^st love

D = 2^nd love

T = 3^rd love

X = 4^th love

N = Unrequited love (one and only…thank goodness!!!)

I = Insignificant data points along the journey to love = Toads = Unmentionables/Forgettables (too many to mention…basically I can’t remember their names!  FYI – I’m not that kind of girl so don’t be thinking I’m some kind of floozy!).

Some very wise mathematicians would predict that “N” would re-appear in the future but we’ve already dealt with him (that door is closed, remember?) so ha! I guess you’re not so wise after all!!!  So to those of you who are much wiser than the wisest mathematicians, I would have polled you had there been more time before my blog posting deadline, but there wasn’t enough time so now you need to dig deep (quickly!) to find the answer to this sequential mathematical equation (it seems so dynamic, existential and tangible, doesn’t it!).  As many brilliant minds have done in the past, I have mused over this equation (assuming that one can actually “muse” over an equation!) for years months weeks days hours minutes a few seconds and have finally found the answer (the quadratic equation that was used to get to this answer is too complicated and lengthy to share with you so you’ll have to trust me!).  Are you ready for it?  I can tell you with great confidence that the answer is almost as accurate as if I had looked into a crystal ball so I’m fairly confident that the answer is 99.9% accurate (± 99.9%).  The next letters that fit into this equation are the letters…wait for it…“J” and “C”.  Wow…those are the best letters EVER!  Now it’s not clear whether or not those are two separate initials meaning that I still have two more relationships to look forward to or if that’s one person’s initials.  Can you think of anyone who has the initials “J.C.”?   I can hardly wait to meet the mystery man or men :P 

Most definitely to be continued…

Freedom

“Everything that is really great and inspiring is created by the individual who can labour in freedom.”  ~ Albert Einstein

My first entry in my 2011 journal was about freedom.  I even had a full page in my journal of the artistically scribbled or coloured or drawed drawn words (didn’t we have this conversation in “The Accidental Artist”?) that defined freedom for me.  Oh the days of my explorational creativity?

Of course, you’re not able to read what I wrote in that photo so here’s my journal entry (don’t laugh!):

Freedom – I’m not sure why but this word has really stuck with me.  The last book I read was “Freedom” by Jonathan Franzen and I loved it! The word “freedom” was mentioned so many times in the novel and had so many different meanings for different people (and animals – the cerulean warbler!) but I hadn’t really thought about what freedom means to me until I finished reading the book.  I’m free from X which is the most recent and obvious act of being free.  I feel free from myself. Yes, that sounds weird but as I get older I feel freer.  It’s a sense of freedom from the feelings that me feel “unfree”.  The feelings of not being good enough, the feelings of not knowing .  With age, I feel free.  There’s also the feeling of financial freedom as you make more $.  Now I want to feel free to be creative.  I started reading “The Creative Confident “ and already there’s so much discussion about “being free” all coming from a place of creativity.  Is it a coincidence that I just finished reading “Freedom” and now I’m reading “The Confident Creative” which talks about being free? Probably not! I have felt trapped by so many things – weight, money, insecurities, fear, need for love – that maybe 2011 is the year for me to break free and be free!!! When I think about all of the journals I’ve started with a focus on losing weight or getting my finances in order, it’s no wonder I quit writing after a few days.  How depressing!  I’m slowly realizing that it’s okay to be me.  Maybe with age comes wisdom.  Maybe being so hurt by X has helped me to grow.  From the ashes, the Phoenix rose?  Or maybe it’s my weekly appointments with my therapist (realistically, I’ve only had 4 sessions with her!) or maybe it’s a combination? All I know is that I feel good but recognize that I’m a work in progress!!! 

*** check out lyrics from George Michael’s song – Freedom (anthem?)

I think I’ll start a creative basket with the tools I’ll need to be creative: ...pen, pencil, crayons, tape, magazines, computer, photos, kitchen, yoga mat, camera, tea (to stay hydrated!), sleep (ideas may come from dreams!)...

Okay, now I feel like I’m standing here naked in front of you!  So it’s been 8 months since I wrote those words but it’s not until today that I truly understand the word that had me colouring/scribbling/drawing and thinking about my life’s journey: FREEDOM!  Yes, I probably wrote that after a session with my therapist (I’m much better now!) but what really struck me in that journal entry are my list and my reference to George Michael.  First of all, the list…tea, sleep and yoga mat to be creative…really?  And there was so much more on that list that I didn't include in my blog.  How embarrassing!  Then there’s the song.  Was I really thinking that I needed an “anthem” for my journey to freedom?  Having just listened to “Freedom” by George Michael, all I can say is “Wow…definitely not my anthem!” and “Geez, I’m such a dork”! 

I also found some notes that I jotted down when I was thinking about writing a blog post on the topic of freedom.  The first was a quote from Sarah while we were making pizza together (mother-daughter bonding over homemade pizza!).  Sarah asked me about the pizza toppings and I said “do whatever you want” so she sarcastically (of course!) responded “Trace, I appreciate all that freedom”.   I guess I wasn’t the kind of parent who clips their child’s wings after all.  See all of the freedom I bestowed upon you , Sarah?  Another paper had scribbles with lyrics from the song “Gravity” by Sara Bareilles which reminds me of how I felt with X .  Now that I’m free, these words really resonate with me but not enough to be an anthem:

Set me free, leave me be
I don't wanna fall another moment into your gravity
Here I am and I stand so tall
I'm just the way I'm supposed to be
But you're on to me and all over me

So I guess I won’t be finding a theme song for my journey.  Do I really need an anthem?  Of course I do!  I guess I’ll keep searching!  Any suggestions?

Now that I’m thinking about this topic a mere 8 months after writing that embarrassing journal entry, there’s so much more to that topic than just men, weight and money (my holy trinity of pre-2011 challenges!).  When I think about freedom, I think of it as a relative term especially since my thoughts on freedom have already changed in the last 8 months.  My understanding has evolved!  If Einstein were reading my blog (who knows…he might!), he would immediately take out a pad and pencil (although he probably didn’t have to take it out because I’m sure he always walked around with a pad and pencil…wouldn’t you if you had a mind like Einstein?  Then again, he probably didn’t have to write anything down because it was always accessible in his mind unlike me who has to write everything down – or text myself – because I can’t remember a damn thing!) and start computing an equation for me that would pin point the exact day I'd be "free" along with all of the pit stops on my journey.  Oh if only Sir Einstein were still alive to help me!  I must admit that if he were still alive, John Cusack would no longer be in the running for Future Husband (just sayin’...sorry JC!). 

Okay, so this, of course, is supposed to be a light-hearted blog so I don't want to depress everyone with my thoughts on the lack of freedom around the world.  I know some people are not free to be who they are or free to speak their mind or free to love whoever the hell they want to love for different reasons (i.e. government, family, religion).  Okay, I’m starting to get riled up so I should quit while I’m ahead but I can’t help think of Nelson Mandela who was imprisoned for decades for trying to free the people of South Africa (I’ve been lucky enough to travel to South Africa so I feel great compassion for South Africans – beautiful people, beautiful land!) or thinking about the people around the world who are fighting for human rights and freedom but end up locked up or tortured or dead, or thinking about the animals we eat (mostly you!) who have no freedom and live their entire lives in cages waiting to be slaughtered then served on a platter, or the slaves around the world who have no freedom (slavery has yet to be annihilated!) or the children who are forced into gangs to fight and die for ridiculous causes.  As upset as I get thinking about these injustices in our world (and sadly there are so many more!) because I feel helpless (yet still hopeful!), it makes me that much more grateful for my own freedom but let's face it, most of us suffer (freedom and suffering are both relative terms) because we live in our own private jail cells, fighting to break out and be free. 

So what does freedom mean to you?

According to the Oxford Dictionary, freedom is defined as “the power or right to act , speak, or think as one wants, the absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government,  the power of self-determination attributed to the will; the quality of being independent of fate or necessity, the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved, the state of being unrestricted and able to move easily; unrestricted use of something, or the familiarity or openness in speech or behaviour.”

“Freedom is the right to tell people what they do not want to hear” ~ George Orwell

So why all of this talk about freedom?  Why has it taken me 8 months to write this blog post?  Where do I start?

Well, on Thursday night (last night), I was able to experience a sense of freedom when I met X (yes, X!) to once again finally bring closure to our relationship.  How many times do two people have to bring closure to a relationship?  Well, I have to say that it wasn’t so much about closure for me because I think I got it when I wrote "Letter to X" but since he’s been sending me texts for the last 7+ months without any responses from me, one of which was about how much he wished things could be different between us and that he was sorry he didn't realize it sooner, I thought it was important to have a face-to-face “meeting” to let him say what he needed to say to that we can both move on (and to make sure the texting stops!).  Obviously I thought that if he’s still sending me texts that means he hasn’t moved on.  Please know that I'm not a mean person so I didn’t want to get all confrontational.  Yes, some of you may think that it was mean and inappropriate to write “Letter to X” but come on, I was hurt (and pissed!).  But on Thursday night I realized for the first time that he got hurt too (how could I not see it? I was too blinded by my own pain and could only see him as the hurter not the hurtee).  Allowing him to speak honestly about our relationship and about regrets gave us both closure (I guess that writing nasty blog posts don’t bring closure after all!) and I was able to see him as a human being with feelings after all of this time.  It's important to note that I'm not interested in re-visiting a relationship with him and that includes a friendship but I'm happy that he’s no longer a monster in my eyes!  I now feel free and I hope he does too! (I know I won't be free from interrogation by friends and family about my Thursday night pow-wow!).

Somehow those feelings of freedom multiplied exponentially on Friday (today) and lead me to do something completely out of character for me.  Partly because it was spontaneous (I didn’t think I had a spontaneous bone in my body!) but mostly because I felt a sense of freedom without fear.  So today, I went out and…well, you’ll just have to keep reading to find out :)

In our lives, we experience different moments of freedom.  Of course, there are moments of freedom when we leave or escape a bad relationship (bad could simply mean not being with someone who is right for you) and there are "freedom" milestones such moving from a crib to a “grown-up” bed or the feeling of freedom when you get your driver’s license or the freedom you experience when you move out of mom's house (right Sarah?).  Of course, when I think about freedom, all I can picture is a butterfly coming out of the cocoon…now that’s freedom!  When I look back on my life, I can think of many times I’ve felt that sense of freedom or that rush you get from the feeling of freedom.  I must admit that since meeting Dr. Acupuncture, I’ve experienced a whole new kind of freedom.  She has taught me how to free myself from negative thoughts and feelings because they have been affecting me physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually.  Understanding my feelings and thoughts has allowed me to release all of the negativity that I carry around with me like a fanny pack (the sexiest one you can picture with a plethora of compartments!).   Releasing the negativity including fear, worry, resentment and anger (among many other emotions…I’m an emotional person okay!) means that it can no longer harm me physically, mentally, emotionally or spiritually so releasing it is a form of freedom.  It’s not easy and it’s a slow process but freedom has to start somewhere! 

It's not always about making a conscious choice to be free but rather recognizing the freedom in your everyday actions.  Interestingly, it reminds me of something a guy said on "The Bachelorette" (I watched the finale, okay?) under his favourite magnolia tree.  He said that “sprezzatura” was …. blah, blah, blah…Italian Renaissance…blah, blah, blah…finding romance in ordinary life.   It sounded really romantic when he said it and I would have probably melted had he said that to me (yes, I’m naïve!) but I thought I’d look up the real definition (The Bachelorette isn’t the best source for accurate information!).  Wikipedia (a much better reference than The Bachelorette!) describes sprezzatura as  “a certain nonchalance, so as to conceal all art and make whatever one does or says appear to be without effort and almost without any thought about it”.  I guess that's what freedom looks like to me right now.  It's finding those moments of freedom in the everyday moments.  For example:

Driving down the highway with the windows down and Pitbull feat. Ne-Yo's "Give Me Everything" blaring on the radio.  Freedom!

Sitting on the dock with my feet in the lake.  Freedom!

Being immersed in a good book.  Freedom!

Knowing how to play the piano (badly!).    Freedom!

Walking to Starbuck's and buying a Venti Soy Chai Latte. Freedom!

Being able to see my family and friends anytime. Freedom!  

Knowing that I can walk down the street or go for a bike ride without incident anytime.  Freedom!

Walking into a store and being able to buy what I need for my family and me.   Freedom!

Seeing the sun rise and set.  Freedom!

Wearing a bikini even though I'm not a size 2 or 8 or 12 (I’m a 14!) and still feeling sexy.  Freedom!

Canoeing, alone on the lake, and listening to the loons.   Freedom!

Saying "fuck you" to my Reese's Peanut Butter Cup cravings.   Freedom!

Laughter.  Freedom!

Tears.   Freedom!

Being able to wear whatever I want (even if my butt looks big!).  Freedom!

Searching for anything I want on the internet (at least I think I can!).  Freedom!

Writing this blog. Freedom!  

Cutting off all of my hair.  Freedom! 

Wait a minute! What did I just type?

”Freedom lies in being bold.”  ~ Robert Frost

In May, BFF participated in a fundraiser for cancer research at her school.  Not only did she raise money, she promised to shave her head if the students raised more than $5,000.  Guess what?  The students (and teachers!) raised over $10,000 (amazing for a small rural community!).  BFF remained committed to the cause and had her head shaved in front of the entire school.  Not only did she look beautiful, she said she experienced a sense of freedom.  Women are so attached to their hair (attachments…that a blog post for another day!).  There are so many emotions related to our hair…joy, pain, frustration, happiness, fun and bouts of vanity.  I don’t know when it happened but somehow hair became an object of sexual desire with long hair becoming much more sexually-appealing to men while women with short hair became “manly”.   I can tell you that BFF does not look manly.  She looks stunning!   I guess we all have preferences when it comes to hair attraction?  I personally like a man with a bald head but that’s just me (it’s still a hair preference nonetheless so it's wrong!).   I loved that BFF said that having her head shaved was freeing but I couldn’t imagine actually going through with chopping all of my hair off….until today!  What???  Are you ready for this?  This afternoon, I walked into my hairstylist’s salon and told her to shave my head.  Yes, that’s correct.  I said “shave my head” not “Shae’s in bed”.  I know how to enunciate!  After the shock wore off, she refused to shave my head.  Did you just breathe a sigh of relief?  If so, you might want to hold your breath because...wait for it...she did chop off all of my hair.  Yes, she did!  I was shocked to learn that my ponytail measured 13”.   I chopped off 13” of hair!!!  I think I’m having a panic attack.  Breathe!  I was so attached to my long sexy thin dry over-dyed hair but it’s gone and guess what?  I survived.  Freedom!!!

Rat tail My chopped off ponytail

I have since patted down fixed my hair so it doesn't look all spikey and/or puffy in the front (I had placed my sunglasses on my head which pushed up all of my hair...damn cowlick!).  I'm wondering if I should take a poll.  Do I look better in long hair or short hair?  You'll probably need a photo of me with my 13" long hair to vote fairly.  Well, I guess it doesn't really matter because I have short hair now and it will probably take me 7 years to grow it long again so I'd rather not know that you prefer my long hair.  What have I done?  I'm just kidding.  I'm actually digging the short hair because it really does feel like freedom.   What's truly wonderful about my new-found freedom is that I don't really give a shit what you think about my new 'do! :P

When I sat in the hairstylist’s chair and told her that I wanted to shave my hair, she kindly and lovingly said “you’re going to have to start wearing make-up and wearing big earrings!”.  I told her that I was wearing mascara and lip gloss but she just rolled her eyes then asked me why I wanted to shave my head.  What surprisingly came out of my mouth was “I have an amazingly strong-spirited friend who is battling cervical cancer.  If she can shave her head before she starts to lose her hair as she undergoes chemotherapy and look fucking beautiful then I can sit in this chair and have you chop off all of my hair, damn it!”.  That’s right….I’m pissed!  Now that the hair is gone, I’m pissed but I’m free. 

Funny enough, after she was done chopping my hair à la Edward Scissorhands, the hairstylist said "Damn, you look good girl (she's paid to say that!)!  You've got balls (in reference to the "courage" I exhibited in getting my hair chopped off - just in case it's some kind of canadianism that my international readers don't understand - you never know!)."   Of course, this is how I responded to her:  "and now I look like I have balls!"  I love it when I crack myself up :)

"The secret of happiness is freedom.  The secret of freedom is courage."  Thucydides

Okay, so maybe I don't quite fully understand what freedom means when I think about all of the people that suffer in the world but I'm starting to slowly reap the rewards of breaking free from my own chains, from the walls I’ve built up around me, from my attachments to people, things (including my hair!) and the thoughts or negative emotions that have made me feel trapped or unfree.  I recognize that what freedom means to me isn't necessarily what it means to you but I guess that is the joy of freedom.  Freedom to choose, to think, to be as we want to be!

“Freedom is not worth having if it does not connote freedom to err. It passes my comprehension how human beings, be they ever so experienced and able, can delight in depriving other human beings of that precious right.”  ~  Mahatma Gandhi

When I think about "Eleanor's Words of Wisdom", I realize that "doing something every day that scares you" is a form of breaking free; a form of freedom.  Today, I chopped off all of my hair so what are you going to do today to set yourself free?

 

 “Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.”  Albert Camus

Must Love Sweat

“Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things”  ~ George Carlin

On our way to see my parents last Saturday, Sarah and I drove by a church where people were gathering for what we assumed to be a wedding.  My first thought…I wouldn’t want to be getting married on a day like today because it’s so hot and humid.  Who wants to be all sweaty on their wedding day?  Sarah and I laughed about the fact that my husband-to-be would decide as I’m half-way down the aisle, dripping with sweat, that he longer wanted to marry the “sweaty girl”.  Sarah kindly said “yeah but Mom, by the time you get married, he would know that you sweat a lot!”.  True.  Then Sarah suggested that we put “must love sweat” in my dating profile.  Not that I have a dating profile but nonetheless, a very funny thought.  I think it’s sweat sweet that Sarah would:

a) think about creating a dating profile for her mother, and

b) make reference to a John Cusack movie (come on, don’t you remember the movie “Must Love Dogs” with Diane Lane?). 

Of course, this has me thinking:

a) will I ever get married,

b) do I need a dating profile to find a man, and

c) do I really sweat that much? 

Honestly, I’ve never put much thought into any of the above.  Okay, I may have wondered a million few times whether or not I’d ever get married and I may have asked myself a bazillion few times why I was cursed blessed with overactive sweat glands but when it comes to creating a dating profile, I haven’t put much thought into it because "I've been there, done that!".  That's right, way back in the day when online dating sites were “up and coming”, BFF and I experimented a lot a bit with those sites.  Now this was back in 1999 and 2000 so it almost seems like my online dating experiences were over a decade ago, wait a minute, they were over a decade ago…how is that possible when I’m so young???  I won’t get into too much of BFF’s online dating experiences because she’s married now and I respect her husband way too much to talk about her pre-husband dating life but before I move on to my experiences, I’d like to remind BFF of the granola-eating, Lord Byron poetry reading, hairy crazy man.  Remember him?  Or maybe you remember the “actor” with the long neck who asked if you could drive to the restaurant on your first date because he didn’t have enough gas in his car?  We have so many stories to tell but some of my "funniest” online dating moments include meeting a guy, who on our first “date”, asked me if I wanted to go to a rave then proceeded to tell me that he’d provide the ecstasy.  So sweet...next!  Another guy told me, again on our first “date”, that he worked in a government lab that conducted research on HIV and AIDS.  He told me that I needn’t worry because he got tested often for STDs.  So reassuring...next!  Oh the memories! 

How many times have you seen ads for online dating sites?  They are everywhere making you feel inadequate because you're single!!!  I won’t mention any names but you know what I’m talking about but back in the day, there were only a few sites.  I had to meet a plethora of losers before finding a man that I fell in love with and lived with for over 5 years.  Many of the losers men I met had “expectations” if you know what I mean.  Honestly, I’m not that kind of girl so those “dates” ended rather quickly.   The best thing about the online dating sites was being able to share the hilarity of it with BFF.   Of course, we were very careful when we met these men for the first time.  We always told each other where we were going and who we were with and any other information that would have helped the police track us down if we went missing.  Seriously!  I wonder how many women today take those precautions when meeting a man for the first time that they met online?  It’s a scary world out there ladies…be careful! 

A serious alert goes out to all women on the dating site "POF" because...wait for it...my ex (remember "X"?) was on that site before I met him (he claimed to have "met" over 100 women on that site which should have been the first sign that I needed to stay away from him...what was I thinking???) and when I saw him in January, he told me that he was back on the "POF" site (ewww!).  Ladies, do you need any other reasons to avoid online dating sites?  It bothers me that I can’t remember the name of the site because it would be an important PSA for all the single ladies.  Let me think.  Okay, I just did a Google search and found it (I hope my computer doesn’t end up with a "virus" now...hehehe!).  The site is called Plenty of Fish.  How pathetic!  Who would want to go looking for a man on a site called “plenty of fish”???   The site should be called "plenty of dead fish" or "plenty of rotting fish" or "plenty of fish with missing eyeballs" or "plenty of floating fish" or "plenty of desperate fish looking for a nibble" or "plenty of flushed-down-the-toilet fish" :) 

I need to focus because this blog post isn’t about fish or online dating, it’s about sweat!  When did sweat start getting a bad rap?  If I said perspiration would it be less offensive to the sweat haters?  According to Wikipedia, sweat is the production of a fluid consisting primarily of water as well as various dissolved solids (yum!) that is excreted by the sweat glands in the skin of mammals.  In humans, sweating is primarily a means of thermoregulation, although it has been proposed that components of sweat can act as phermonal cues (ha! can you smell me now?).   How would I regulate my body temperature or repel attract a man if I didn't sweat?  Well guess what?  Some men think sweat is sexy (it must be the pheromones!).  That’s right, I’ve actually been told that sweat is sexy but I wonder if the time and place made the difference (ahem!). 

Since Sarah suggested that my man (that made me chuckle because I was thinking of Rachel on Big Brother saying “no one gets between me and my man”) "must love sweat", I can't help but wonder what other "must haves" he should possess (because I've never thought about it...not!).  But before I start the list, I think it’s important to mention that I don’t sweat that much.  Really, I don’t!  Seriously!  Don’t you believe me?  Yes, I do sweat when I exercise.  Yes, I do sweat when I see a cute guy.  Yes, I do sweat when I’m in a sauna.  Yes, I do sweat when I'm dancing (it's a great workout, okay?).  Yes, I do sweat when I’m standing in 30 degree Celsius weather.  Yes, I do sweat when I’m being active (ahem!).  Yes, I do sweat when I have a high fever.  And it’s quite possible that I sweat when I get nervous (okay, quite possible = highly probable!).  I think the nervous sweat is different than the other sweat because it's more of the “sweat is pouring down my back” and “pit stains are forming” kind of sweat (sorry, just being honest!) so does it still count?  Oh yeah, I’d probably sweat during hot yoga too which reminds me of a funny story.  This morning, I told BFF that I was thinking about taking hot yoga which is offered at a yoga studio near my office.  I told her that I thought it might be good for my frozen shoulder to take a hot yoga class even if I can’t do all of the moves (yes, I’m using the shoulder as an excuse for not being able to do the yoga moves!).  She snootily kindly said that yes, the heat might be good for my shoulder but I'd probably have to show up in a terry cloth outfit to absorb all of my sweat.  Can you believe her?!?  As it usually does, the conversation got a little out of control…we wondered if I could do hot yoga in a tub to collect the sweat or maybe a baby pool or maybe we could “McGyver” an eaves trough system that would allow the sweat to drip off of my body into a cup bucket.  Wow…can't wait to sign up for hot yoga! Who wants to join me?  I wonder if I can request the following song during yoga class?

Man, I loved that song in high school!  While the video played, I couldn't help but get up and boogie (how could you not?).  I must admit that it made me sweat a little. 

Okay, so enough about me and my sweat, let’s get to that list of “Tracey's man musts”:

Must be Greek

Must be kind, loving, caring, sweet, respectful, generous, compassionate, loyal, responsible (etc...)

Must be tall, dark and handsome (beauty is in the eye of the beholder so short, fair-skinned, fat and ugly might be all I could get what I seek!)

Must be motivated to succeed (whatever success is for him!)

Must respect my need for alone/quiet time

Must be John Cusack

Must love nature and/or outdoors and animals

Must be active (so he can motivate me to be active!)

Must respect my need to write in my journal and will absolutely not read my journal (even when he finds it open on my bed!)

Must have similar morals and values (an absolute must!)

Must be funny or at least have a sense of humour or at the very least laugh at my “jokes”

Must be willing to accept my dorky ways

Must have a brain (and use it!)

Must be willing to negotiate (as I am!)

Must love to travel or at least financially support my dream to see the world

Must love to read or at the very least must accept that I love to read (and buy books!)

Must love me "just as I am"

Must love himself or at least be open to learning how to love himself

Must love kissing me (and other related activities!)

Must love my family and friends (or at least tolerate them!)

Must love my blog!!!

Okay, so maybe “the must list” is unrealistic because I've omitted so much from the list the “perfect” man doesn’t exist (John Cusack…ahem!) but I’ve never been willing to settle for anything less, hence the reason why I’m still single!  I know I’m special (yes, I do!) so I need an equally-special man to spend the rest of my life with (and every day that goes by, that lifetime gets a little shorter!).   After my last disastrous relationship, I’ve been unable to think about being in another relationship much less jump into another one, hence the reason why I’ve been single for over a year.  I know, I know, when you fall off of your bike, you should get right back on but my knees and elbows are scraped, my ankle is twisted, my baby finger is broken, my nose is bleeding, my front tooth is broken, my spandex bike shorts are ripped, my nail is chipped, my mascara is running from all of the tears, and I have a concussion so I’m not ready to get back on the bike yet (I want my mommy!).  When the time is right, the “perfect” man will appear in my life.  By perfect, I don’t mean that he’s perfect because no one is perfect (well, I’m as close as they get to perfection, I guess).  I simply mean that he is perfect for me!  Finding my true love, my life partner, my husband is worth the weight wait (I hope!).  Oh yeah, and did I mention...he must love sweat :P

P.S.  What do you think...should I have named the blog post "Slippery when wet"?