What Would YOU Do?
Current mood: crunk
Category: Life
I'm always curious to understand how people handle the tough situations life throws at them. Below are a few "hypothetical" scenarios. How would you handle each of them?
1. You've recently gone through a breakup with someone you loved deeply and were together with for two years. You are hurt but know you must move on. What do you do?
a. Go into hiding for months, put on your oversized grandma PJs and eat ice cream every night while watching "Love, Actually." b. Date many, many new people with reckless abandon, using them for personal validation and free meals as much as possible. c. Take time to focus on yourself, spending time with friends and family, and keeping busy with positive physical and mental activities. d. Call your ex at least 10 times per day begging for him or her to take you back. Also, send hourly emails and at least weekly drunk text messages.
2. You had elective surgery about one year ago. You are now having some complications resulting from the surgery. What do you do?
a. Undergo a corrective operation which will cost nearly $1,000 and has no guarantee of working but is your only hope. b. Live with the complications. c. Perform surgery on yourself with a fork, a toothpick and 3 safety pins.
3. Your workplace has recently undergone some changes that have affected your work-life balance and taken away some privileges you had grown accustomed to. What do you do?
a. Make the adjustments and live with the changes. After all, you're lucky to even have a job. b. Go postal and kidnap the receptionist at gunpoint until your demands are met. c. Look for a new job opportunity that will better work with your personal needs. d. Build a bed under your desk and just don't do any actual work.
4. You have been invited on a date with a gentleman named Bruno. He is handsome and has a decent job, but his name is Bruno. What do you do?
a. Refer to 1b above and use him for a free meal. b. Run for the hills in the opposite direction. c. Poke yourself in the eye for even considering the offer.
5. You are at your local gym when you see someone you haven't seen in a while. This person, not having seen you lately, asks excitedly if you are engaged yet. Having just broken up with said non-fiance, what do you do?
a. Say, "F*ck you, you f*cking idiot!" b. Say, "No actually, we split up," and let the person feel like a complete jackass. c. Break down in tears on the elliptical machine.
6. You are hungry. What do you do?
a. Order Chinese takeout. b. Order a pizza. c. Go to McDonald's. d. All of the above.
7. Your 7-year-old son has been sad and crying frequently. What do you do?
a. Console him, tell him things will get better, and give him lots of love and hugs. b. Tell him to shut the f*ck up and quit being such a pussy. c. Lock him in the basement where you can't hear his cries.
8. You can't decide what to dress up as for Halloween. What do you do?
a. Wear a t-shirt that says, "This IS my costume." b. Go as a nudist. c. Screw Halloween. d. Dress as a sexy sheriff as suggested by your friend Matt.
OK, everyone, what would YOU do in each of these completely hypothetical situations? Your answers are important to me!
Have any scenarios of your own? Put them in the comments and let the readers decide.
Lessons from a Nail Salon Guru
Current mood: blank
Category: Life
After what had been a stressful week, I decided last night to go get my nails done while my son was taking his weekly dance class. I'd originally planned on just taking a good walk, but I figured I deserved some pampering in the form of a nice manicure.
I dropped off my son and headed to the salon, where I was the only customer in the whole place. I was greeted by two Vietnamese women, one in her early 20s and one in her late 30s wearing a pink velour track suit.
The younger woman did my nails, while the pink lady traipsed around, cleaning, talking on the phone, etc. The manicure was going great, aside from the scolding I got about biting my nails. I was feeling very relaxed, until Pink Lady walked over to my station and...
Pink Lady (in a very thick accent):So, you have boyfriend?
Me:Um, no. I'm single.
Pink Lady:Oh, why you no have boyfriend?
Me:Well, I just broke up with someone not too long ago.
Pink Lady:Oooh. That not good. How old you?
Me:I'm 31.
Pink Lady:Oh, you need find new boyfriend. You old! Need get married.
Me:Well, I'm working on it. I'm sure in time...
Pink Lady:Is OK. You pretty. You find new boyfriend soon.
Me:Oh, thank you. That's very nice.
Pink Lady:Except you need grow your hair out. Men, they don't like the short hair. Is not sexy.
Me:Um, yeah, I'm growing it out.
Pink Lady:And you need dress nice (pointing to my sweatshirt). And wear makeup. Make sure look good all time.
Me:Yeah, well, I was actually planning to go for a walk tonight, but uh, yeah, nevermind. I'll make sure to look nice.
Pink Lady:OK. Good luck!
With that, I left the salon -- nails pretty, ego bruised, but no worse for wear. So much for pampering myself...
MY SAVING GRACE
Current mood: thankful
Category: Life
You are my strength. When I feel like I can't go on, you tell me you love me And I remember why I'm really here. I remember that my purpose in life Is you.
You are my light. When I feel down, you are there to hug me and tell me everything is going to be OK. When I cry, you are there to dry my tears. When I'm sad, you make me laugh by doing a funny butt dance.
You are my inspiration. In your eyes, I see hope and beauty. In your smile, I see the brightness of a future yet unwritten. In your voice, I hear a surprising intelligence beyond your seven years. In your soul, I see God's work.
I'm sorry for all of the pain you've had in your life. I'm sorry that I have not at times been a better mother to you. I hope as you grow older, you understand that I tried my best. I did the best I could for you. I hope you grow up to be a happy, responsible man. I will continue to do everything in my power to ensure that. I hope that you know how very much you mean to me, and how much I love you.
Thank you, my son, for being you For being my guide For loving me without condition And for giving me a reason to smile Each and every day.
Readers -- Who gives YOU the most inspiration in your life?
Remember what you were doing when you first heard the news. Remember how you felt -- whether it was fear, or anger, or sadness, or shock.
Remember the people who died that day. Remember those graphic images that still play so vividly in your head -- the confusion and fear and death and tears of a million innocent people.
Remember the bravery you saw and heard. Remember how on one day, all of us were one.
Remember how our world was changed, and remember the nearly 5,000 soldiers who have died since that day.
Remember how grateful you were for your life, and feel that gratitude again today. Remember to tell your loved ones how much they mean to you, and remember to give thanks every day for the blessings in your life.
THIS PISSES ME OFF!
Current mood: annoyed
Category: News and Politics
From The Associated Press... (as seen on countless news sources in the last hour)
California's top court overturns gay marriage ban
By LISA LEFF, Associated Press Writer
SAN FRANCISCO - In a monumental victory for the gay rights movement, the California Supreme Court overturned a voter-approved ban on gay marriage Thursday in a ruling that would allow same-sex couples in the nation's biggest state to tie the knot.
OK, so why am I pissed?
Well, read it again.
"...a ruling that would allow same-sex couples in the nation's biggest state to tie the knot."
THE NATION'S BIGGEST STATE?
Uhh, excuse me, folks over at the Associated Press. But the last time I checked, unless there was some strange geological shift I don't know about, California is not the nation's biggest state!
That would be ALASKA.
California is the most populated state. There is a difference between being the biggest and being the most populated.
For example, Paris Hilton's vagina is small but highly populated. Anarctica is big but not well populated. Clearly not the same meaning!
Poor Alaska. It's the biggest in size and girth. It's three times bigger than Texas, but still always gets the shaft.
Alaska is like those distant relatives you forgot you even had. Until one day you need something (like oil, or fish, or a nice vacation) and you realize you could use them.
Alaska is the most beautiful state in this nation -- nature, wildlife, untouched landscapes and bountiful resources. My sister lives there, and I lived there myself for many years. Don't let it go unnoticed. Let's give it the credit it deserves.
Shame on you, Associated Press, for making Alaska the bastard child of this nation.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to California Pizza Kitchen for some lunch.
Readers -- What's the first thing that pops into your head when you think of Alaska? More importantly, does size really matter?
PS -- In case you're wondering, yes, I did email AP to inform them of the egregious error.
I have been utterly intrigued by a letter I read today in the Dear Abby column. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and I’m not sure I agree with Abby’s advice on this one! Already, this is causing great debate amongst my friends and coworkers.
Read on and let me know what you think (from today’s Chicago Tribune):
DEAR ABBY:
I am 27, and my wife, "Marybeth," is 26. We recently went to my folks’ house for supper. That evening a heavy snowstorm was starting and, because the trip home is 30 miles, we decided to stay overnight.
My old bedroom is upstairs, as are the rooms of my brothers, ages 25, 24 and 22. The guest room is downstairs. Because the room is quite small, and Marybeth said she felt a cold coming on, we decided I’d sleep in my old room.
The next day, while we were driving home, Marybeth told me she was glad I had come to her room after all and made love to her.
Abby, it wasn’t me! She had mistaken one of my brothers for me in the darkness. We are all about the same size and build.
I have talked to each of my brothers (they all know about this), but they won’t say who it was for fear of causing a rift between the guilty party and me. I told them that unless I find out who it was, there will be a permanent rift between all of us. (Marybeth still doesn’t know it wasn’t me.)
How do I handle this? -- ENRAGED IN ROCHESTER, N.Y.
DEAR ENRAGED:
While you and your brothers may have a strong family resemblance, I find it hard to believe that you all smell, taste and make love like clones. So please do not accept as gospel that your wife didn’t have an inkling that it wasn’t you. As to who actually crept into her bed in your absence, if your brothers won’t reveal who the guilty party is, then they’re all equally guilty, and I wouldn’t blame you for severing ties with them.
It’s time to have a serious chat with your wife and get chapter and verse on what happened that night. Then she should be tested for STDs and treated if necessary.
It is possible for a couple to get past something like this, if you’re both willing to work at it. The shortest route would be with the help of a licensed family therapist.
So I Came Out of Your Butt?
Current mood: embarrassed
Category: Life
The following is a transcript of a conversation that occurred last night between my six-year-old son and myself:
Jacob:Mommy?
Me:Yes, honey?
Jacob:Remember when I was a baby in your belly?
Me:Yes, of course I remember.
Jacob:How did I get out of your belly?
Me:Well, the doctors got you out.
Jacob:But where did I come out from? Did they have to cut open your stomach?
Me:No, they pulled you out of my body.
Jacob:From where?!?
Me:Well, you came out of my private area.
Jacob:I came out of your butt?!?!
Me:Nooooo, you came out from my vagina.
Jacob:What's a 'ma-JI-na'?
Me:Well, you know how everyone has private parts, like you have a penis? Boys and girls have different kinds of private parts. Boys have penises, and girls have vaginas.
Jacob:So I came out of your penis?
Me:Uh, no. I don't have a penis. I'm a girl, so I have a vagina, and that's where you came out of my body.
Jacob:Wait. Hold on. So I came out of your private parts?
Me:Yes.
Jacob:EEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!! That's dissssguuuuuusting!!!!!!!!! I don't want to hear any more about it, mommy. Please just stop talking right now.
Serves me right for trying to be a modern, honest parent. Next time, I'm just telling him it was the stork.
I have a horrible addiction. Morning, noon and night, I can't get enough of my vice. It captures me, and I am unable to escape its vicious hold over my mind, body and soul.
My addiction is...
The Food Network.
My name is Ivonne...and I am a Foodie.
When I wake up in the morning, I turn on trusty channel 64 to see who will win today's "Iron Chef America" challenge.
When I come home, I hit record on my DVR to ensure I catch Rachel Ray's "30-Minute Meals."
Or Giada DeLaurentis showing me her "Everyday Italian" recipes.
Giada is so beautiful, and so friendly, and so skinny, and such an amazing cook. If she had a big penis, I would fall head over heels in love with her. (Perhaps this could be arranged?)
And before I go to bed, I try to catch a glimpse of Bobby Flay grilling up his sweet barbecue magic.
The addiction is even so bad that on some nights, I stay up late to watch "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives," just to see the mouthwatering goodness being served up by lowly-paid line cooks across the nation.
How do they make pancakes look so delicious?!
At the grocery store, I find myself thinking of things I saw on one of those shows, convinced of my ability to recreate the scrumptiousness at home.
And at work, I find myself searching foodnetwork.com for the most fantastic recipes to add to my virtual recipe box.
I am no longer content to serve up spaghetti sauce from a jar. I must make my sauce from scratch! Frozen pizza? I don't think so; I'm kneading and punching my own dough. A can of soup? Ha! I scoff at you whilst I blend my own recipe in my new food processor.
I'm spending more time cooking and shopping for healthier foods. I'm buying fresher ingredients, more vegetables, and more organic items.
I'm trying to cook new things -- like chicken marsala, and red pepper pesto fettucini, and reduced fat cheesy bacon crescent rolls. (DOUBLE FREAKING YUM)
I just hope these new-found efforts make up for all of the hours I'm spending in front of the TV and computer drooling incessently.
I have a sickness. I am always hungry. It has reached the point that I fantasize about having my own cooking show or cooking in the nude. Or both.
Except bacon. Naked bacon cooking is a BAD idea.
I think I need to seek professional help.
Hey, anyone know how I can reach Emeril Lagasse?
Readers -- Have any strange addicitons these days? If you had your own cooking show, what would be your theme or specialty?
On Saturday, I went to see a production of the musical Phantom of the Opera at the Cadillac Palace Theater in downtown Chicago. Watching the fantastic show, with its epic music and gripping storyline, it suddenly dawned on me.
I am Christine Daae.
Now for those who don't know the story, bear with me as I explain. Christine Daae is a young dancer at a Paris opera house in the 1800s. The opera house is haunted by what the performers and workers refer to as the "Opera Ghost." Strange events are always taking place at the opera house, events that are blamed on the mysterious ghost. When the lead soprano of the opera is one day unable to perform, the beautiful Christine takes over the lead and is instantly beloved by audiences in Paris.
What her cohorts don't know is that Christine has been receiving vocal lessons from a being she refers to as the "Angel of Music." Christine's father died at a young age, and before passing, he told her that she would be visited by such an angel. When Christine finally tells her friend of the angel, she is doubtful, and increasingly this "angel" becomes more and more possessive of Christine. He haunts her every move, and when she falls in love with her loyal childhood sweetheart, Raoul, she begins to see that her "angel" is actually an angel of darkness, none other than the Opera Ghost.
The Opera Ghost, or the Phantom of the Opera, is a brilliant but terrifying creature who lives underground. He believes the opera house, and Christine, are his. In his jealousy over the love she shares with Raoul, the Phantom begins to wreak havoc on the opera house, making demands, and killing stagehands and performers. The performers, the owners and Raoul ban together to try to capture the Phantom, but instead, he brings epic disaster to the opera house and kidnaps Christine.
In the end, the Phantom threatens to kill valiant Raoul if Christine does not agree to be his wife and live with him underground. In his desperation, Christine appeals to him, tells him that he is not hideous but rather misunderstood, and that she loves him. Brought to his senses, he sets both her and Raoul free, and they escape to freedom and marital bliss. The Phantom, on the other hand, is never seen or heard from again, having disappeared into the darkness.
But the real question is: Is the Phantom real or is he a figment of Christine's imagination? Is he a murderous man or is he just the dark side of a girl who lost her father, an unspeakable manifestation of her fears?
Christine sings into the mirror and the Phantom stares back at her. She is lured by his voice, lost in his darkness, unable to escape him.
On Saturday, as I was lost in the metaphor that is the Phantom, I realized that I AM Christine Daae.
I am the beauty and the talent and the voice and the dancer. I have people who think the world of me. But within me is that ghost, that ugly darkness staring back at me that threatens to kidnap me and hold me hostage. Its negative power is tantalizing and inescapable, keeping me from giving myself to my true love. And that gloomy underground lair is just a dark recess of my mind where I go to escape the pressures and insecurities that I sometimes cannot bear to face.
I sat there in the theater, acknowledging my own Phantom and its power over me. My masked being is the worry, the anxiety, the fear, the insecurity, and the irrational and obsessive thoughts that haunt me.
I turned to my side and realized that next to me sat my Raoul, my one true love who tries desperately to understand that bit of darkness holding me back, a man who wants nothing more than to free me from the spell of the Phantom, to guide me to safety and help me let go of the fears that engulf me.
I turned back to the stage, and in that moment, Raoul pulled Christine to him and sang, "No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here. Nothing can harm you. Let me be your shelter."
Yes, I thought. I have to LET HIM be my shelter.
And Christine sang back, "Say you need me with you, now and always. Promise me that all you say is true. Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. That's all I ask of you."
As tears streamed down my face, it dawned on me that all I ask for and all I need is that undying love. With it, I can let my Raoul be my light, my saving grace.
I can choose to accept Raoul's love and security, or I can continue to let the Phantom rule my world. I can choose to acknowledge that the Phantom was a part of who I am, but that I don't have to carry that ghost around any more. I can choose to let my love for Raoul overshadow my darkness, and I can finally allow my Phantom's reign over me to end.
So tonight, I came home and laid silently in my bed. I closed my eyes and let the Phantom come to me. I told him he was not hideous, I embraced him, I thanked him for what he taught me about myself, and then I told him goodbye. Without so much as a singular note, my Phantom disappeared into a shadow.
He let me go. He set me free.
And in the newfound clarity of my mind, I walked out of the lair, and into the loving arms of my Raoul.
Readers, have you ever been swept up in an artistic piece, seen your own soul reflected back at you on a stage?
The Tragedy of Megan Meier
Current mood: cold
Category: Blogging
Megan Meier was a teenager in St. Louis who was looking forward to her 14th birthday and having her braces removed. Late last year, Megan developed a romantic friendship with a boy named Josh Evans that she met here on MySpace. Josh was a cute and friendly 16-year-old, and he and Megan quickly developed a rapport. But after a month of chatting online, he began turning on her, telling her he no longer wanted to be friends, insulting her, posting bulletins saying she was a slut.
One day, after their relationship had deteriorated quickly and unwittingly, Josh sent Megan a message saying that the world would be better off without her. The next day, Megan's mother found her in her closet, where she had hung herself and died.
It turns out that "Josh Evans" was actually Lori Drew, the 48-year-old neighbor of the Meier family. Lori created the fake profile to see if Megan had been talking about her own daughter at school. Lori knew of Megan's history of depression and also the fact that she was on medication. Lori has since confessed to police but has not been charged with any crime.
I was bullied at Megan's age. I was picked on and insulted daily, and I had those days when I wanted to do exactly what Megan did to herself. At that age, this trauma is extremely confusing and seems unbearable.
But my bullies were other kids my age, kids who were mean, but who didn't know better. Megan's bully, unknowing to her, was an adult -- a cruel adult who should have had a conscience and who now will have to wallow in her own guilt for Megan's suicide.
I've come across a lot of fake profiles in my time on MySpace -- people who pretend to be someone they're not and develop "relationships" with people under false pretenses. I've seen people misled by lies, betrayed by their own inherent trust and belief in humanity. I've seen some "fakers" exposed, and I've seen those who continue to hide behind the mask of anonymity that the internet provides.
I mean, it's easy in cyber-space to be someone you're not. It's easy to pretend that you're beautiful or skinny or successful or whatever else you wish you could actually be, like a goddess.
And it's also easy to be a coward and a bully when you're hiding safely behind an IP address using a photo of someone that isn't really you, with no real threat of retribution for your actions. I've had people say things to me online that I know they would never dare say in person to a stranger.
I've heard a lot of people say, "It's JUST the internet. Who cares? No one on here is 'real' anyway."
But do lies and insults become any less vicious when they're in the cyber world instead of the real world? Do the words hurt any less when they're read on a computer screen rather than face to face?
Now I acknowledge the fact that you have to be smart about things when you're dealing with "strangers" on the internet. You have to watch for red flags and be sure you're getting information that "adds up." When people are insulting or harrassing you, you can delete them or block them.
At the ripe old age of 31, I can do that. I've learned what to look for, learned to trust my gut. Even so, I admit I've been fooled. And then I brush myself off and move on -- maybe hurt and confused and disppointed, but I move on nonetheless.
But what happens when the victim of a fake-profile-bearing cyber-bully is a trusting 13-year-old with a history or depression?
Tragedy.
Readers -- Have you been misled by someone you've met online? Do you think cyberbullying should be a punishable offense?
Love Sandwich on the Beach
Current mood: calm
Category: Life
I parked my rental car in an empty lot about 15 miles south of downtown Miami. I stepped out of the car, closed the door, and stood for a moment to admire the ocean before me and the clear Miami skyline in the distance.
I reached for my giant beach bag and walked about 200 feet to the sandy shore of a small cove. The clean white sand crinkled under my flip flops -- those comfortable ones I'd purchased at Walgreen's for just three dollars.
As I walked around the cove, I noticed there were only a few other people there at the beach on this beautiful and sunny weekday afternoon. With my pick of where to settle in, I chose a spot between two palm trees where I could still see the skyline.
I laid out my super-sized Hello Kitty beach towel and stripped down to my favorite blue bikini. Before lying down on the towel, I stopped for a moment to admire my boobs.
Nice.
I rested on the towel on my back, face up to the sun, ready for my skin to darken by the moment in response. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the crashing waves, and I basked in the warmth of this day and in the warmth of my spirit. I felt positive energy flowing through my body with every breath I inhaled, and felt the negative energy slip away with every exhale. Every muscle in my body felt completely relaxed, and I drifted off quietly to sleep.
"Mommy," said JJ quietly, leaning over me.
I barely responded.
"Mommy," he repeated.
"What is it, honey?" I asked, waking up groggily in my bed at 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning.
"Can I lay down with you?"
"Yes, honey," I said, lifting the covers for him to come in next to me.
He climbed in and nuzzled up to me. I curved my body around his, wrapping my arms around him and spooning him.
On the other side of me, AA rolled over and reached for me half asleep, pulling himself to me and pushing his body against mine.
With JJ in front of me and AA behind me, I'd suddenly become the meat in a big "love sandwich."
And I don't mean a BLT. Although those are good, too.
God, I love bacon.
Now, there was a period in my life not too long ago that I was feeling very deprived of sleep. I longed for a night of peaceful slumber, but it consistently eluded me. My thoughts, my tears, and my sadness kept me awake night after night. My mind was exhausted.
But on this early chilly Saturday morning, with the sun shining brightly through the window, with me wrapped in AA's arms, and my son wrapped in mine, I realized that although I was awake, for the first time in a long time, I wasn't tired anymore.
I closed my eyes and imagined myself back on that peaceful Florida beach in my favorite blue bikini with the happy sun shining down on me.
I listened to the sounds of the crashing waves, and I basked in the warmth of this day and in the warmth of my spirit. I felt positive energy flowing through my body with every breath I inhaled, and felt the negative energy slip away with every exhale. I felt the weight of a thousand restless nights pull off of my shoulders and float off into the ocean.
And with every muscle in my body feeling completely relaxed, I drifted off to sleep right where I belong... sandwiched between the two greatest loves of my life.
Readers -- When you need to relax and go to a "safe place," where does your mind take you? Have you ever been the meat in a love sandwich? (Jon, don't answer that...)
The Weirdos of MySpace and Some Random Life Lessons
Current mood: content
I've heard it all.
MySpace is lame. MySpace is for kids. MySpace is old news. MySpace is full of weirdos and creeps.
Well, say what you want about it, but I have had the good fortune of meeting some amazing people thanks to MySpace and especially thanks to blogging. For every mean person or fake profile, there are a dozen genuine, good people in this venue.
They're all great bloggers, and they're all genuinely nice people. What a great privilege to have had my life blessed with these bloggers I can now call my friends.
So which one of you clowns is going to be the next one I meet in person??
I'm rooting of course for THIS blogger...
But I'll settle for my buddy Dictator Jon if Criss Angel is unavailable.
On a completely random side note, here are a few things I've learned recently:
-True love is a risk. One worth taking.
-There's no such thing as too much Halloween candy.
-Sometimes recipes don't turn out the way they look on TV, but they still taste delicious.
-Life is so much easier if you just learn to let things go and forgive.
-Real confidence comes with experience and knowing who you really are.
-When in doubt, wear the red shoes.
-It really IS possible to get a second chance.
-And most importantly, the greatest cartoon theme song of all time was The Snorks...
Readers -- Which MySpace "celebrity" would you most like to meet? Have you learned any random lessons lately?
With Friends Like These...
Current mood: hopeful
Category: Friends
I was IM'ing with a friend of mine last night, telling her about my fun Halloween weekend. I sent her a link to my photos so she could see my costume -- a full-on, authentic Hooters girl uniform. (Check out my pics if you're curious...)
Rather than commenting on how cute I looked, or what a fun costume it was, these were her words:
"Well, your boobs still aren't big enough to be a REAL Hooters girl."
Gee. Thanks, buddy.
Instead, I'll have to focus on my friend Brenda who told me about 15 times on Saturday that I am the hottest Hooters girl EVER. I'm assuming she hasn't been to Hooters much.
Anyway, why is it that some friends can also be your worst enemies? Why do they feel the need to be critical, but wrap it in a thin veil of brutal "honesty" to justify the harshness of their words?
I have one friend who is notorious for giving me "tough love." He feels the need to tell it like it is -- whether it's telling me that I look bad in a picture, or that my decisions are wrong, or that I should act or do things differently. But are his words really "how it is" or are they things as HE sees them? Lord knows I don't agree with half the stuff that comes out of his mouth and I don't agree with many of the decisions he has made in his own life, but I try my best to be supportive regardless.
I try to justify these friends' harsh words as them just caring and looking out for me. After all, these are people who are always there for me when I need someone to talk to or even need a shoulder to cry on. The problem is that their companionship sometimes comes with a dose of unwelcome judgment.
But then I have some amazing friends, like Brenda, who are supportive and honest without that side helping of judgment or criticism, even if they don't always agree with my choices. These are friends who say things like, "That costume is fantastic!" or "I'm happy for you," or "I'm here for you whatever you decide" or "I understand how you must be feeling..."
I recently made a major decision in my life to renew a relationship with the man I love. After some time apart, and some major introspection, we both decided that our bond as friends, lovers and partners is just too strong to give up on. We're starting over again from a happier, healthier place, and trying to learn from the many mistakes we've both made in the past (none of which included abuse or infidelity or any other deal-breaking issues, so don't you all go forming your own opinions or conclusions).
When I've asked people to wish me luck in the new chapter of this relationship, a couple of friends expressed their outright disapproval of my decision. Luckily, though, most friends expressed their support and said they want just to see me happy. Yet other friends even expressed their sheer joy for us to be back together again.
But the best response of all was this:
"Wish you luck? Hell No!! I wish you Peace, True Love and Years of Happiness!"
Now THAT is a great friend. I will gladly take his wish and make it come true.
True friends lift your spirit. True friends listen without judgment. True friends help guide you through dark times, holding your hand, but letting you lead the way. True friends love you, and don't say things to hurt you needlessly. And true friends stand by you, no matter what.
Readers: Do you have any toxic friends like I do? What defines a true friend to you?
PS -- Happy Halloween, everyone! Send me your leftover chocolate.
crunk
blank
thankful
thoughtful
annoyed
blissful
confused
embarrassed
hungry
amorous
creative
cold
calm
content
hopeful
