Even after all the pain and trauma sometimes we find ourselves unknowingly thinking about people who once were a part of our lives. It doesn't mean we want to relive that period. Clearly it wasn't a lasting one, but sometimes we need a happier ending in order to make peace with the past. Nothing more, nothing less or at least that is what we tell ourselves.
For some it takes longer to finally realize "it's over" or that it never was something of meaning. Sometimes we push ourselves over the edge and into a mentally crazy and exhausting phrase because we don't know what else to do. Eventually pushing away loved ones because it's easier to watch someone destroy themselves from a distance.
And then one day many months later you wake up and the flowers smell again, the air is no longer toxic, the future while blurry seems promising, but your love is gone. He couldn't handle the pain anymore. He has moved on and at that moment when he says "I'm seeing someone new" reality hits you like a brick wall.
So, what is a girl to do? You could sit at home watching depressing TV, gain weigh, sleep all day, but it won't change the end result. Instead following in the steps of Carrie Bradshaw you go big and bold and ask out a Yankee. Which at least is a happy temporary distraction.
Kate
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Not Friends with an Ex
So, the big one. I promised I would write about the doozy of an ex-boyfriend who I am no longer in contact with.
And then he went and called me. Sonofabitch!
About two months ago, I was watching TV with my roommate, and seriously close to going to bed. It was almost 11 p.m., and I was falling asleep on the sofa, which is never a good thing. Then the phone rang. I recognized the area code as Chicago (where he used to live), and thought to myself, what the hell…maybe it’s a telemarketer. So, I answered, mostly out of curiosity, and there was no one on the other line. I hung up.
One minute passes, and the phone rings again. Same number. I answer it. Again. This time a voice: “Hello, I am looking for MY NAME.”
I responded, “Rob? It’s me.” Of course, at this point, the roommate is interested, and so I am trying to motion and mouth who it is (she knows the whole story—which, by the way, is long and arduous to tell, if you want to know the truth). I take the call into the other room. As soon as I shut the door, I say, “Why are you calling me?” I have no fear and nothing to lose at this point, right?
And then, what I feared the most, happened: he tried to explain. Everything. And he tried to apologize. Now, I have not spoken to Rob in almost two years. But, in the past, our conversations tended to be on the near side of three plus hours. As soon as the first few sentences came out of his mouth, I feared for my phone bill. Why the hell did I answer! Damn you, Queen of Mean!!
Then, like it was 1945, he dropped The Bomb. He was getting married.
Now, this has happened to me before—shocking, right? Not really. If you knew the assholes I’ve dated…
Anyway, and I really couldn’t help myself, the first thing out of my mouth was, “Why!?” Then I corrected myself, “Why are YOU getting married?”
And do you EVEN know what he said? I mean, talk about the most perfectly delivered line of my life: “Because I found someone who will put up with me.” That’s EXACTLY what he said. Holy schnikey! Are you kidding me? Not only was that opening windows of opportunity for me, but the front door, garage door, and whole goddam roof!
I responded, “You’re serious? She puts up with you?”
This is not happening. Ohmygod, you cannot make this stuff up!
And then, Hiroshima again: “You are always going to be the one who got away.”
OH, COME ON. I could not believe my ears. I started to try and get out of the impending marathon conversation, and thought I had heard it all, but then, and I kid you not, he said, “Can we talk again, you know, be friends?”
Now, mind you, if I had absolutely no class, tact, or heart, I would have hung up right then, or just laughed in his face. So I foolishly said, “I will let you know,” leading him to think that I might, when in fact, I do not ever wish to speak to him again. And on top of that, I hope there is no wedding. I hope by that divine intervention, or stroke of luck, that someone tells that girl what she’s in for.
Rob cheated on me, on the girl before me, before her, and so on. He’ll never not cheat. He’s also a drunkard. And insanely cocky. And honestly, not even that attractive. Certainly, I am out of his league. And part of me wishes I had thought more of myself when I was with him, without him, and back with him. But I do now, and that’s ultimately what's important.
Queen of Mean
And then he went and called me. Sonofabitch!
About two months ago, I was watching TV with my roommate, and seriously close to going to bed. It was almost 11 p.m., and I was falling asleep on the sofa, which is never a good thing. Then the phone rang. I recognized the area code as Chicago (where he used to live), and thought to myself, what the hell…maybe it’s a telemarketer. So, I answered, mostly out of curiosity, and there was no one on the other line. I hung up.
One minute passes, and the phone rings again. Same number. I answer it. Again. This time a voice: “Hello, I am looking for MY NAME.”
I responded, “Rob? It’s me.” Of course, at this point, the roommate is interested, and so I am trying to motion and mouth who it is (she knows the whole story—which, by the way, is long and arduous to tell, if you want to know the truth). I take the call into the other room. As soon as I shut the door, I say, “Why are you calling me?” I have no fear and nothing to lose at this point, right?
And then, what I feared the most, happened: he tried to explain. Everything. And he tried to apologize. Now, I have not spoken to Rob in almost two years. But, in the past, our conversations tended to be on the near side of three plus hours. As soon as the first few sentences came out of his mouth, I feared for my phone bill. Why the hell did I answer! Damn you, Queen of Mean!!
Then, like it was 1945, he dropped The Bomb. He was getting married.
Now, this has happened to me before—shocking, right? Not really. If you knew the assholes I’ve dated…
Anyway, and I really couldn’t help myself, the first thing out of my mouth was, “Why!?” Then I corrected myself, “Why are YOU getting married?”
And do you EVEN know what he said? I mean, talk about the most perfectly delivered line of my life: “Because I found someone who will put up with me.” That’s EXACTLY what he said. Holy schnikey! Are you kidding me? Not only was that opening windows of opportunity for me, but the front door, garage door, and whole goddam roof!
I responded, “You’re serious? She puts up with you?”
This is not happening. Ohmygod, you cannot make this stuff up!
And then, Hiroshima again: “You are always going to be the one who got away.”
OH, COME ON. I could not believe my ears. I started to try and get out of the impending marathon conversation, and thought I had heard it all, but then, and I kid you not, he said, “Can we talk again, you know, be friends?”
Now, mind you, if I had absolutely no class, tact, or heart, I would have hung up right then, or just laughed in his face. So I foolishly said, “I will let you know,” leading him to think that I might, when in fact, I do not ever wish to speak to him again. And on top of that, I hope there is no wedding. I hope by that divine intervention, or stroke of luck, that someone tells that girl what she’s in for.
Rob cheated on me, on the girl before me, before her, and so on. He’ll never not cheat. He’s also a drunkard. And insanely cocky. And honestly, not even that attractive. Certainly, I am out of his league. And part of me wishes I had thought more of myself when I was with him, without him, and back with him. But I do now, and that’s ultimately what's important.
Queen of Mean
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Dreamweaver
A memory is a way of holding onto things you love, the things you are, and the things you never want to lose. It's also how we learn, a way to show people we care and have listened. It's the story of how we got to where we are, what we have overcome to reach the being we have become. Memory gives us the capacity for compassion and empathy, it enables us to connect with people at different stages of their journey, and help just by understanding. But, some memories make it hard to keep moving forward without looking back.
When we dream of old friends or acquaintances it usually indicates that there is something in your past that keeps coming up and interfering in your life somehow. The old maybe familiar, but it isn't always the correct decision. Sometimes we just need a push in the right direction to remind us just how precious life is and how petty our errors were.
Life is full of vanishing acts and dreams that later become nightmares. The old are eventually replaced with the new. Sometimes we let go of our dreams and settle for less than extraordinary. But, if we keep believing that the dream does exist we have a chance of waking up from the nightmare.
Kate
When we dream of old friends or acquaintances it usually indicates that there is something in your past that keeps coming up and interfering in your life somehow. The old maybe familiar, but it isn't always the correct decision. Sometimes we just need a push in the right direction to remind us just how precious life is and how petty our errors were.
Life is full of vanishing acts and dreams that later become nightmares. The old are eventually replaced with the new. Sometimes we let go of our dreams and settle for less than extraordinary. But, if we keep believing that the dream does exist we have a chance of waking up from the nightmare.
Kate
Friday, October 7, 2011
Light at the end of the tunnel
No one should be trusted with your heart or any other part of you for that matter. We are all unique that's what makes the world so fascinating. Everyone has their beliefs, their traditions, their crazy rules about how relationships should be. Sometimes we make a wrong turn and while in the moment it may feel right that little voice knows it's never going to last. Mistakes are a part of living, no one is perfect.
Some people will remain in our hearts long after the door shut. It doesn't necessarily mean you still love them or even like them, but sometimes letting go takes a lifetime to forget.
When we are picky with whom we choose to call friends it tends to hurt more when one leaves your side. But, whether you agree or not doesn't stop time or let you go back and repair the damage.
We grow as we age, but it doesn't mean we all mature or refine our tastes like a fine wine. For some, the best years have long past, but we still live off the memories of days gone by. For others, the best is yet to come.
You may never get an answer and even if you do it probably isn't what you wanted to hear. Words are very powerful weapons when misused. Make sure you are picking a fight with the right person.
Kate
Some people will remain in our hearts long after the door shut. It doesn't necessarily mean you still love them or even like them, but sometimes letting go takes a lifetime to forget.
When we are picky with whom we choose to call friends it tends to hurt more when one leaves your side. But, whether you agree or not doesn't stop time or let you go back and repair the damage.
We grow as we age, but it doesn't mean we all mature or refine our tastes like a fine wine. For some, the best years have long past, but we still live off the memories of days gone by. For others, the best is yet to come.
You may never get an answer and even if you do it probably isn't what you wanted to hear. Words are very powerful weapons when misused. Make sure you are picking a fight with the right person.
Kate
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Share The Love Clothing
In August I went to Brooklyn for the Share the Love clothing photo shoot. I hired a couple local models; Brissena and Dean, an amazing photographer who I grew up with, Tommy Agriodimas, www.agriodimas.com, a makeup artist and two amateur models/assistants. Alex, the fresh faced twenty something musician and my cousin Yvette, who I haven't seen in thirteen years.
I didn't have a clue what to expect or what to do, but somehow I pulled off my first fashion shoot which I guess officially makes me a self taught fashion designer. By the end of the day I was exhausted and super pleased with all the awesome photos Tommy shot.
Like our writing, Share the Love clothing is an extension of our inner wild child -- bold, edgy, mysterious and, perhaps for some, offensive. But you only live once, so be bold, be brave, be unique, be you. We hope you will fall in love with our newest venture, too and thanks for being so patient.
www.sharetheloveclothing.com is the clothing website. It's still a work in progress. We are hoping to have the online clothing store up and running in the next couple weeks. In the meantime, sign up for our monthly newsletter and preview some of the shirts.
No promise on what will happen after this.
Peace out love.
Kate
I didn't have a clue what to expect or what to do, but somehow I pulled off my first fashion shoot which I guess officially makes me a self taught fashion designer. By the end of the day I was exhausted and super pleased with all the awesome photos Tommy shot.
Like our writing, Share the Love clothing is an extension of our inner wild child -- bold, edgy, mysterious and, perhaps for some, offensive. But you only live once, so be bold, be brave, be unique, be you. We hope you will fall in love with our newest venture, too and thanks for being so patient.
www.sharetheloveclothing.com is the clothing website. It's still a work in progress. We are hoping to have the online clothing store up and running in the next couple weeks. In the meantime, sign up for our monthly newsletter and preview some of the shirts.
No promise on what will happen after this.
Peace out love.
Kate
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)