From Point A to Point B.

I started this blog on January 9, 2009 — almost seven years ago — with the following intention:

I genuinely want to know what makes relationships work and what love is really about. Actually, that’s not true at all… I bored myself just writing that. I just want to have an interesting exchange about the topic with those that haven’t totally given up yet, or maybe even with some who have.  That’s all.  And, if I’m lucky, somewhere along the way I might even be saved from my own cynicism…

So, New Year’s resolution, January 2009 [2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, and 2015]: Destroy the cynicism within.  Or do something new with my hair.  I’m not sure.   😉

Unfortunately, there is no 12 step process for “destroying the cynicism within.”  The hard truth is that some things can only be learned through a series of painful, yet worthy experiences that ultimately put you in a better place than you were when you began.  Here is very condensed summary of how I got from point A to point B in the last three years:

• Point A: I was guarded, opposed to dating, hung-up on my ex, and constantly trying to convince myself that I wanted to be single my entire life anyway.  I had earned a reputation for being hard to date.  A guy told his buddy he was going to ask me out and his buddy said, “Pfff. Good luck.”  No joke.
• When visiting my family in Michigan, I found out my grandfather was sick and decided to stay for a couple extra months to help care for him until he passed.
• After he died, I inherited the love letters between him and my grandma during WW2.  Talk about true love… They married soon after he was discharged from the Navy and stayed married for 64 years until the day my grandmother died.  Not gonna lie, I ugly cried on the floor of my grandfather’s bedroom when I realized just how much I longed to be loved the way my grandfather loved my grandmother. (I’m incorporating these letters into a book project. It’s an interesting window into the life of a sailor who went to war just after having met the love of his life.)
• I found this picture on Instagram and couldn’t stop going back to look at it:
  

  I know… It annoyed me too.

• I stopped talking to my ex-boyfriend… largely because I found out he was dating a 19-year-old, but hey, at least I cut it off.  The Instagram picture is right, sometimes you just gotta let go to open yourself up.
• Ten months ago, I agreed to go out with a guy I met 4 years ago for something other than breakfast.  I always said he was the type of guy I wanted to date if I was ready, but per usual I refused to give it a chance.
• Point B: Well, guess what? I fell in love:

The overwhelming feeling I have at the present moment, is that the relationship I have with this man was worth everything I had to go through to get here.  It was worth all the heartbreaks and failed relationships.  It was worth faking happiness while watching every. single. one. of my girlfriends get hitched.  It was worth having the entire Midwest question my sexual orientation because I was my 30’s and still single.  Most importantly, it was worth not settling.  And that’s really what I want to say to anyone out there who’s reading this blog.  It might take much longer than you hope to find the guy who loves you the way you deserve to be loved, but please don’t settle.  In the meantime, focus less on finding the right person, and more on being the right person.  That’s the lesson I had to learn the hard way.

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Kismet Encounter.

Every once and awhile, I find myself in a situation that can only be described as kismet. This one took place on Tuesday afternoon at 1:38 pm. I was minding my own business when I eyed a guy, about my age, looking at me like he recognized me from somewhere and was trying to place it.  I was expecting him to say something like “Do I know you?” or “You look really familiar,” and we’d go on to have a pleasant conversation trying to figure out if we took a class together in college or shared a distant relative.

Instead he said, “Do you have a boyfriend? Becaaaaaause, I’m available.”

Which could have been romantic if we were in a decadent art museum and the guy was tall and athletic with dark skin, manly, protective biceps, brown eyes, tousled black hair, Mmmm… Oh, sorry, I got distracted.  Instead, we were at Taco Bell and he was 12 inches shorter than me, heavyset, and totally not my type (no offense, men, if that describes any of you)… Needless to say, his efforts were in vain.

Regardless, I stumbled into that Taco Bell having had a terrible morning and walked out with smile on my face.  I think fate knew I needed a little cheering up.

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Magic and Rattle Snakes.

It was 7:14 pm when my friend Jen and I arrived at The Magic Castle in Hollywood, CA.  Our dear friend, Spaff, was anxiously waiting for us outside the front door.  We had precisely one minute to navigate our way through the castle and into the Parlor of Prestidigitation for Helder Guimarães’s 7:15 show.  We ran – in heels, and dresses  – across the ornate carpet of the castle’s main floor and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.  Classy to say the least.  We made it just before the doors closed.

If you’re at all into magic then you’ve probably heard of Helder Guimarães and if you haven’t, then you’re probably not as into magic as you like to pretend.  Look him up.  He’s extremely gifted.  In true Rachel fashion, at the end of the show I shook Helder’s hand and said something contained like, “That was really, really good,” when what I was feeling on the inside was closer to, “That was effing mind-blowing!!!! How is that possible?  I’m going to crawl into a whole and never come out because I no longer know what’s real and what isn’t.” I spent the next hour on a bar stool, rocking back and forth, staring at nothing in particular, trying to figure out how Helder could have done the things he did.  As a kid who grew up asking “why” about everything, I’m not one to just be amazed and then let it go.  So here’s your warning, Helder:  I WILL figure it out.  It’s only a matter of time…

The rest of the night was as fantastic as it started.  Spaff introduced me and Jen to a number of great people, the waiter gave us a cheese plate on the house, and we saw two more magic shows featuring magicians Tina Lenert, Mike Caveney, and John Gaughan & Lady Mystina.

It was a great night indeed.  But perhaps equally as mind-blowing to all the magic we saw at the castle last night, was our ride home with Uber driver Frank.  Jen and I got into the car and after the usual pleasantries that are exchanged with a driver (minus the fist bump – this wasn’t a Lift car), Frank started asking us questions about the Magic Castle in his thick Ugandan accent.  It is important to note here that on the console between the driver seat and the front passenger seat was a long wooden box.  “What’s in the box?” Jen asked, rather innocently I would like to add.

“It’s my rattle snake.” Frank answered.  I’m a bit of a magician myself.
“Oh yeah?” Jen inserted skeptically.
“Yes, and he makes candy.”  But HOW does he make candy, I thought, and WHY…
Frank continued, “Do you want to pet my snake?”

… Wait. What?  In that moment, everything came to stop.  I was no longer thinking about Helder’s amazing card tricks or Tina Lenert’s mop man or the crispy, purple grapes on the cheese plate.  I looked at Jen.  Did he just say what I think he said?

“Uhh, no thanks.” Jen replied politely, yet firmly.  “I’ll give you a peak in case you change your mind,” Frank said as he slowly opened the lid of the wooden box.  Sure enough, there was candy in the box, but neither one of us was about to reach for it.  Frank sensed our hesitation and closed the lid.  “It’s ok, my snake can be shy.  Maybe another time.”

WHAT?!?!  For the second time in the same night, I found myself questioning what’s real and what isn’t.  In what world does this conversation actually happen?  I’m going to attribute it to a cultural barrier.  The rest of the ride was quiet with the occasional squawk of my contained laughter at the unintentional innuendos on the part of Frank.  Finally, we arrived at our destination.

“Thanks for the ride,” I mustered as I got out of the car.  And what a ride last night was.

Me, Spaff, and Jen at The Magic Castle

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Honest Insight From a 4-Year-Old.

Ok, ok. I know I already posted this, but it’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Can you blame me? Here’s my nephew Braden, offering me some…I’d say pretty honest insight about love, dating, and marriage.

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She’s baaaaaack!

I haven’t written in awhile.  Mainly because I’ve become too good for all of you.  Jk, sheesh. Anyway, I logged in for the first time in over a year and found a post that I started writing but never finished.  Wow, I hope I’ve learned something since 2009…

You know when  you are walking straight toward someone and you don’t know if you should go left or right to get around them and you both try to go the same direction but then it get’s really awkward (especially if he’s cute) and someone makes a lame joke like, “let’s dance”?  Well, I managed to do that… with a truck.

“No big deal,” I thought, “I’ll just keep walking like nothing happened.”  But then the driver of the truck said something that I couldn’t understand.  Now, this all happened in the parking lot at work so while normally I would just smile and laugh a little like I know what the guy is talking about and move on, this time I went around to the driver side window to ask what the man said.  I mean, what if it was work related?  You never know.  And had I worked for a car dealership that moonlighted as a brothel, it might have been because what the man actually said was, “You would make a great hood ornament.”

What a bizarre thing to say!  At this point, I should have stuck with the ol’ courtesy laugh stand-by and left it at that, but nooooo.  Somehow, I opened my mouth and this came out: “Oh, you mean smashed up against your grill?” meaning literally, smashed up against the grill of his truck.  Talk about double entendre!  Ugg.  At least I made some truck driver’s day.

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Lucky I’m in love with going to weddings.

I wish I had something witty and cynical to say about the number of weddings I’ve been invited to attend this month (five) or the number of bridesmaid dresses I now own (seven).  Instead, I find myself being very happy for two of my closest friends that have recently gotten hitched (both in the last 13 days).  If I could tell them each one thing it would be, “Good thing you didn’t listen to me.”  Brenda asked me if I thought she should start dating the guy she is now married to.  I told her no.  Elizabeth asked me if I thought she should get back together with the guy she is now married to after they once parted ways.  I also told her no.  Oops…

The real reason I’m blogging about weddings is to share this song with you.  This was the song that the bride and groom danced their first dance to at the wedding I went to this weekend (a wedding that actually made me shed real tears).  If you are in the middle of planning a wedding, I recommend using this song for something.

(The song starts after 14 seconds).

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Update on my life.

I’ve been SO busy these last couple weeks but I can honestly say it has been a couple of the best weeks of my life.  I’ve been living in a new place, making new friends, trying new things… Anyway, trying to describe it doesn’t really do it justice so I’ve decided to just show you (I love you Clinton!!)

More to come…

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L is for leadership.

Alongtheway made the following comment on a previous post:

Being a girl (I mean you, not me), and this being a relationship blog, you seem like a good person to ask a question I often wonder about:  What do girls, particularly Christian girls, think about the Garden State version of relationships? (I wrote about it here: http://dominic-ville.xanga.com/600037591/scattered-thoughts-on-relationships/) Namely, do girls want the typical Christian male version of being a leader or would they rather have a less…how do I say it… authoritarian version like Garden State where he can be honest and say, “You know what? I don’t know much, but I’d rather not know much with you than without you.”  I elaborate more in the linked post, but does that make sense?  What are your thoughts?

I can only answer this question for myself rather than try to speak for “girls in general.”

I think I get what you’re saying with the quote you posted from Garden State.  The idea of what this quote represents is a romantic notion — let’s do this all together, we are both on level ground, I won’t make any choices without you, etc. — but at the same time, it just sounds so… boring.  I’m not sure it’s something that I personally buy into.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m all about gender equality and communication in a relationship (and the workplace) but it seems like this kind of attitude can lead to unhealthy co-dependence, the idea of which makes me want to puke.

Leadership in and outside of the relationship is a quality that I definitely look for in a guy.  Not all girls are like me though — some really dig the type of guy they can walk all over.  I just happen to like a guy who can challenge me and keep me in check.  I want to be loved and cherished and all that but I don’t want to go back to being in a relationship with Mr. Drama Queen or Mr. Dud or, on the other extreme, Mr. Over-Bearing Borderline Abusive.

To me, nothing is more attractive than a guy who is solid in knowing who he is and what he wants out of life.  [Here’s the grand finale] A guy who has direction and leadership and the ability to have mutual respect.  A guy who can be himself and let me be me as we walk through our lives together.

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The mysterious shopping cart man reappears.

When I said I never thought I’d see it again, I meant it.  But today, as I was on my way home from work, my path once again crossed with the homeless man and his shopping cart.  Serendipity?  Well, I wouldn’t go that far.  Amusing?  Definitely.

This time, I managed to roll down my window, give an encouraging cheer, and take a picture.  I don’t know if I’ll ever learn the name of this mysterious shopping cart man but I will certainly always remember him.

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Missing Michigan.

Today, I went to the beach in Stanley Park and while it was good weather and I had a great time, I couldn’t help but miss the beaches back home.  Nothing beats a Lake Michigan beach.

Lake Michigan

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