Category Archives: Essay

I’m late, per usual.

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There are two things about me that have never changed, nor probably ever will: I’ve always been late, and I’ve always enjoyed a bit of dilly-dallying. It has taken me this long to come to the conclusion that the two are correlated with one another.

I have absolutely no sense of time (or direction). I like to blame this entirely on my mom. When we hear, “Want to meet at 2pm?” We’ll probably be there fifteen minutes later. As other kid’s parents were on time (or even early) greeting their children at the pick-up line at school, I was the last child to be picked up at school. Naturally I’d think the worst–I knew she loved my brother more and has completely forgotten about me! Crying usually ensued.

Along with being late, I enjoy wasting time. It apparently started young in life, too. My mom would always tell me, “We don’t have time for you to dilly-dally. We need to go!” What does dilly-dally mean, I’d ask.

I set my alarm for at least least two hours before work. But the problem is? I’m still late. Reasoning? I love wasting time. The idea of not having to rush is lovely. I slowly savor each of my mornings by drinking two cups of coffee, checking out facebook newsfeed, and laughing at cat pictures. You know, anything that does not involve getting ready for the day. I’ll continuously give myself five more minutes before having to get in the shower. Oh, wait! A few more minutes! I have to finish watching this Cat and Flute video. Ooooh, Cat Bowling under related videos? Click.

Shit! I have to leave for work in 20 minutes and still haven’t made my lunch! The rushing proceeds.

However, work has just implemented a punch-in system on the computer. (Like most jobs.) Before, it was the reliable honor system: write your hours on a printed calendar template from Microsoft Word. When doing it this way, it was okay to sneak in five to eight minutes late. That’s no longer the case. Not since February 1. Now, my directors will see that I am perpetually late. Although we are given a three-minute grace period, I know I will abuse it. I will come so close to hitting that three minute mark I will be speeding my way there, all the while bitching at the laid-back drivers and bicyclists of Portland. If only I left five minutes early I’d say to myself aloud. If only.

Work is also generously giving us three strikes, and after that? We’re out! Well not fired, but supposedly will be written up. (Nice baseball metaphor though, huh?)

It has been ten days since work started the punch-in system, and I have been on time everyday since. (At least with the help of the three-minute grace period.) And you know what I’ve learned? Being on time (or even early) falls under the category The Greatest Feeling in the Whole Entire World. Some other things would include: sleeping in on a Sunday (with a nice-looking man beside you), coming home to a fridge stocked with beer, and leaving the state you began to loathe for the state you fell in love with.

Even though work is forcing me to be on time, I hope the man in my life (a stickler for being on time) doesn’t actually believe I’m going to give up my dilly-dally habit.

*GettyImages.

In Perspective: Unrequited Love

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I once liked a boy, who didn’t like me.
A boy even liked me once, but I didn’t like him.

Unrequited love–My marital status throughout most of middle and high school. (Later on in life, I got a bit more lucky.)

Life is rough when you’re a boyfriendless, fourteen-year-old girl suffering from a crazy little thing called unrequited love. (Oh wait, those aren’t the lyrics.) But come on, everyone would have to agree that unrequited love sucks at any age! It fits oh, so, snugly under the category The Worst Feeling in the Whole Entire World. Some other things would include: waking up five minutes before you have to be at work while rushing out the door (sans shower and coffee), experiencing food poisoning on vacation, and having dreams nightmares where one is pregnant (But, man, what a relief waking up!).

Like most teenage girls, my life was defined by the opposite sex. (We can thank Disney for that one.) Did I have a boyfriend? Did anyone like me? Did I even like anyone? I remembering “liking” multiple boys just to increase my chances of getting a boyfriend. It didn’t work, of course. I also remember “liking” boys just to make my life more interesting because what woman doesn’t love to over-analyze when a man says “fine” and “sure.” Does he, like, really mean that? Something is totally wrong.

While most of my friends were out catching boyfriends, I was sulking in my room wondering, “Why not me?” My online and handwritten journals were filled with the unrequited-love blues. After all, it can be quite detrimental to a person’s ego, especially a shy, insecure girl going through puberty. Imagine that you have finally found the courage (it was hiding behind procrastination and motivation, by the way) to go up to that someone, who you’ve only watched from afar, and proclaim your feelings to only receive absolutely nothing in return.

But then again, should we be surprised by the outcome? We aren’t in the movies. Our crushes wouldn’t just confess that they, too, have been watching us from afar all along. This could be the cause of unrequited love! The cause being we are lusting after people who are simply out of our league. When we are younger, our parents tell us we can be anything we want to be when we grow up. In our simple minds we figured we could have anyone we wanted as well, regardless of how attractive they were. We are setting ourselves up to be unloved in return.

Alas, I must touch on both sides of the spectrum. (As I have been found on both sides before.) Surely we have all had our fair share of people who we weren’t interested in, but who clearly were interested in us.

I had a really good friend during my freshman year of high school. The said friend was a boy and he liked me, a lot. (He actually confessed his love for me.) Although flattered, I had no interest in him. I told him that he was my good friend and that’s all I could ever see him as. Ouch, Jamie! On the other hand, I knew exactly how he felt because at the same time I was pining for the popular tall, dark, and handsome boy in the junior class, who had no idea of my existence. Oh, high school.

Fortunately by the time I entered my senior year of high school, I had finally experienced requited love. (I could finally relate to those damn love songs!) So, what’s the secret? Time. I was no longer that awkward 14-year-old girl going through puberty. I’ve continued to grow as a person since then. I got smarter, hotter, and funnier all the while attracting better quality men each and every time. Soon enough, you’re bound to meet the perfect person for you. So don’t worry, pubescent person reading my blog, you’ll get rid of the unrequited-love bug soon enough. Just give it time.

Or maybe lower your standards?

*Getty Images

The underrated (and overrated) places to meet that someone.

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Let’s face it, life isn’t about making the most money. It’s not about having the most friends, either. It’s about finding one person who will love you enough to put up with your shit (and if you’re lucky, someone who is attractive, funny, and intelligent). But the problem is that it’s a difficult and even daunting task to find someone who is not only attractive, funny, and intelligent but who will also find your flaws endearing.

When we are lazy frustrated with love and relationships we don’t bother going to search for someone. We stay single, and write empowering facebook statuses that include: “I don’t need a man. I can pay my own bills.” (37 likes from other single ladies ensue.)

But when we do find the motivation to go and search for that someone we don’t know where to even begin. Well, readers, don’t fear! This is where I come in.

I’ve come up with some underrated (and overrated) places to meet that someone. People everywhere are looking in all the wrong places. They’re relying too heavily on Yahoo! Answers and self-help books which are just leading them to meet some lame people, who will eventually break up with them.

The underrated places.

  • In traffic.
    • While living in Florida, my daily commute coming home from work was 45 minutes. That is 225 minutes. That is three hours and 45 minutes spent driving. That is the equivalent of watching a movie and two episodes of Dexter. That is the equivalent of getting a haircut and pedicure. (I have long, thick hair. Ahem.) What I am trying to say is that we waste a lot of time in traffic. After all, time is precious. This time spent in a car could essentially be time spent trying to meet that someone. Ah ha! Well, why not put the two together? There have been plenty of times when I was sitting in traffic and singing my heart out to Bob Seger’s Night Moves when I would look to my left to see a quite nice-looking man smirking at me. Horrified, I had no where to run and hide. I couldn’t simply push the accelerator and go, I had to simply stay put. Now if I were confident I would have rolled my window down and asked for his number, but I’m not so he got away. Next time you’re sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, take a peek at the drivers around you. He or she could just be that someone.
  • On public transit.
    • For the people fortunate enough who don’t have to sit in traffic, public transit is the next best option. Again, we spend a lot of time (and money) commuting to work. The next time you get on to the subway, why not find the one seat directly across from that Keanu Reeves look-alike? You meet some interesting people on public transit. I once received a flower from a man who told me I had beautiful teeth on the MAX in Portland. Granted, he was drinking Rolling Rock from a can at 10:30 in the morning but perhaps if I wasn’t so judgmental (Come on, beer in a can?!?!), he could have been that someone.
  • Through a blog. (Preferably your own.)
    • Online dating is becoming more socially acceptable. Slowly, but surely. I’ve already confessed to my readers that I’ve met men on the internet. It’s simply easier for me. But at the same time, online dating is tricky. The key to meeting that someone isn’t to sign up for Match.com or any of those dating sites. Wait, what? When doing it that way, you’re intentionally putting yourself out there making it really difficult. (It’s the equivalent of hoping you meet someone at a bar. See below.) When you’re writing hilarious, witty posts on your very own blog (ahem), it sometimes attracts people. It even attracts that someone. (Trust me. I know.) Not only will you acquire your biggest blog fan, you will have landed yourself a man. Not a writer? Well, you better become one quickly or have some hope that my other underrated places work out for you.
  • In a bookstore.
    • The reason being (and really the only)? It’s the perfect setting. If my life were a movie, and I was about to meet that someone (played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, naturally) it better take place in a bookstore. There I’d be: moseying through the aisles, when suddenly I’d see him with his nose buried in a book, he’d look up to see my gaping face, we’d briefly make eye-contact before I’d coyly look away. As you can see, I have some pretty lame fantasies. But, reader, seriously go to a bookstore, there’s bound to be an intellectual,  charming, and attractive person in there for you.
  • Going anywhere in public without showering.
    • It’s true. You’re bound to meet that someone when you’re least expecting it. Enough said.

The overrated places.

  • In a bar or club.
    • This is the most overrated place people believe they could potentially meet that someone. Who even came up with this idea? Has this person even been to a bar? Don’t they know it’s loud? One cannot make any type of conversation in a dark room that has DJ Quivering Machine blasting the latest tracks. Yes, when alcohol is involved confidence usually comes out but the next morning so does regret. Meeting at a bar is so overrated that people are flocking to bars with high hopes of finding Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Surely if everyone is going to the same place, I can only imagine the difficulty of trying to get his or her attention when everyone is fighting for one thing: that someone. Good luck with that.
  • Through a friend of a friend.. of a friend.
    • ZzzZzzzZ.
  • Work
    • I’m bias toward anyone meeting at the workplace. Mostly because I’m annoyed that my ex-boyfriends dumped me for their now girlfriends or wives through work. Besides, if you do meet someone at work and god forbid the two of you break-up, how awkward. Poor Jennifer Carpenter and Michael C. Hall must know! Their characters play siblings on Dexter, get married in real-life, later divorce, and now *spoiler alert* Deb (Carpenter) is having… feelings for her brother? Cruel writers, I tell you!
  • School
    • High-school sweethearts? Pfffft! How unoriginal of you two. I like to think that they got stuck in a comfortable routine and can’t get out. They figured, “Hey, let’s just stay together.” I get it, though. It’s rough out there! (Why else would I be writing this post?) I mean why bother breaking up if you already met the person who will put up with your shit? The two just met earlier than most of us will meet our someone. (It’s still overrated…)
  • On a dating reality television show.
    • The next time you’re watching The Bachelor and Chris Harrison asks, “Do you know of someone who is looking for true love? Apply or nominate someone now by going to ABC.com” Do not raise your hand, and scream at the television, “I do! I do!” Yes, you will get whisked away in a helicopter every now and then. Yes, you will go on fabulous dates in exotic locations. But no, you won’t find true love. Look I’m not being harsh. I am forewarning anyone contemplating going on a dating show. I’ve see too many women crying at the camera because Ben, a man they’ve known for two weeks, didn’t give them a rose. If only they read this post. If only.

I hope this helps any of my desperate single readers looking for love.

*Getty Images.

In Perspective: Close-talkers

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Have you ever met a close-talker? If you’re wondering a what, it sounds exactly as it reads, my dear reader.

Close-talkers do not solely occupy one region of the world either. In fact, a close-talker can be found anywhere in the world. I’ve come across some in Florida to even a couple in Oregon. Although one may believe close-talkers travel in packs, they are somewhat of an individual, even among their family.

Yet, how can you be sure it’s a close-talker and not someone who is about to give you CPR? Well, this is why it’s imperative that a person knows how to identify a close-talker, especially when at first glance (and from afar) because he or she will appear to look like a normal-distant talker.

How to identify a close-talker.

  • He or she will be completely unaware of your personal space. They don’t realize that people have a boundary. Most of us have an imaginary bubble around ourselves, shielding us from the outer world. The size of our bubble depends on a few things: our weight, height, sex, and cultural background. (It also doubles in size when you’re a couple in love.)
  • Within minutes of speaking to a close-talker, you feel your bubble pop. Uneasiness will most likely ensue. Bubble will rebuild itself in three to five days. Again, it depends on the size.
  • After your bubble has been popped by said close-talker, he or she will continue to talk while inching closer, and closer, and closer to your face.
  • Seinfeld has given a visual example.

How do you act if you encounter a close-talker?

  • Don’t run. Whatever you do, do not run. It will just confuse the close-talker. Or worse–he or she will follow you to continue telling their story.
  • Lean your head, subtly, in the opposite direction of the speaker.
  • Although you’re likely thinking, “Why is his nose touching mine while talking?” Pretend your listening to them by smiling and nodding.
  • If close-talker has just came back from eating a garlic pizza and having a cigarette break, sometimes a step (or two) back is needed. Fortunately for you it’s likely they won’t even notice. They’re too engaged with what they’re saying.

So, why do they do this?

  • No one knows (not even scientists!), but some like to speculate it’s because they lack a bubble.

*Getty Images

True Life: I can’t say no.

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“Jamie, would you like anything from Voodoo Doughnuts?” Yes.

“Jamie, would you like to get some drinks after work?” Of course.

“Jamie, I’m interested in you. What’s your number?” asks the man, who I’m not interested in.  Err.. umm, it’s 727-555-5888.

It’s true. I cannot say no to people. And I want to change that. I mean, need to change that.

I’ve always been the nice one. I’ve also been the type to avoid confrontation as much as possible. Perhaps even the two are correlated. I really believe it’s just easier to say yes. That way, I don’t have to see the other person disappointed if I were to say no.

Not only do I face situations in my personal life that I can’t say no to: doughnuts, beer, and men. But many times have occurred at work.

When people know you’re nice, they use this as an advantage for themselves. By being the person who doesn’t say no at work means that co-workers come to me when they need my help, especially when it involves covering his or her shift. Don’t get me wrong, I love helping people. I believe in good karma as much as the next person. I, however, don’t believe in using people as a doormat.

I think I’ve already set the bar at work. They know I’m the go-to person. (This, too, can work as an advantage for me.) It’s almost like having a boyfriend (or girlfriend) who continuously cheats on you and you perpetually forgive them. If you let him or her get away with it once, they will continue because you set the bar. You let them know it was okay. (If you didn’t know, that is never okay.)

I recently had a situation happen at work. I was the last person she asked while everyone before me said no to her. It put me in a predicament where I felt obligated to say yes. This was the first time I was becoming frustrated with my current job. I felt the tears coming.

I had just come out of yoga class feeling great (and sweaty). I couldn’t wait to get home, shower, and do all those single-girl habits I have. I especially liked the idea of staying up late. After all, I was going to sleep in the next day. That’s when I received not only a text, but a missed call along with a voice mail.

Didn’t she know it was my morning off? Didn’t she know it was my morning to sleep in? Didn’t she know it was my morning to drink four cups of coffee in bed while watching The Wonder Years? Didn’t she know it was my morning to put my mind off of work, and be a vegetable in my bed? Mine, mine, mine.

I didn’t want to take her shift. But how do I say no to a person, nicely? I was trying to think of excuses. I only came up with one.

Oh, I can’t because I have an appointment. (I didn’t. Although I could have used a Groupon for a pedicure where appointments are preferred…)

How do I tell someone who has a fever that although I can take her shift, but I just don’t want to? I couldn’t say I can’t. Technically, I was physically available but mentally unavailable. Was that selfish of me? Possibly. But I always say yes, dammit! I contemplated for an hour on how I could tell her– I’m sorry, but I need to do laundry and sleep in. There isn’t a nice way to put it. So I eventually just told her that it was fine.

It happens when dealing with the opposite sex, too. He took advantage of this, and walked all over me. A stranger asks for my number, and I can’t say no. I regrettably give it to him and when he texts me telling me we should hang out, I ignore it and feel bad about it days later.

Where did I develop this can’t-say-no-thing? My mom? It has to be, right? Possibly society has instilled it in me? Little girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Or maybe I can blame it on the positions of the Sun, Moon, and planets? (I’m a Virgo if you care.) Or perhaps it’s just inevitable when someone is too nice?

2012 is 23 days away. The time is nearing when I make resolutions that never seem to last. I’m adding something to the list anyway–I need to learn how to say no to people. I need to learn that it’s okay to be selfish sometimes. Otherwise, when will I get what I want? I need to learn that I can’t please everyone. And sometimes I have to disappoint people, and turn them down.

Two days ago a co-worker asked if I could cover a class. I didn’t stress about it. I didn’t take hours to respond. I decided to be selfish and tell him the truth: No, I can’t. Incredulously, he asked why not?! I told him I had yoga to attend.

I guess it’s easier to say no when you really do have plans (or a boyfriend).

The Mistakes Lessons Learned

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I once made a mistake at the age of 18. (Haven’t we all?) Some will say it’s never a mistake, rather a lesson learned.

Okay, fine. FINE!

I once “learned a lesson” about relationships at the age of 18. A lesson that will forever stick with me, I hope.

Once upon a time, I was in love with a boy. A boy who I thought was probably the greatest person in the world. He was the smartest, funniest, and most attractive boy who had ever liked me in the 18 years of my existence. He would eventually become my boyfriend. (I hope you weren’t expecting an unrequited love story, reader.)

We were also living 300 miles away from one another when we decided we wanted to be together. And as they say–absence makes the heart grow fonder. Oddly enough, the relationship would be its strongest because we were miles away from one another. Our hearts would grow fonder, and this boy would eventually move back to the city where we met months earlier. Unfortunately this would also be the downfall of the relationship.

At 18, he was the person I could see being with for years and years down the road. Despite him not having many of my deal sealers for Mr. Almost Right. (Relationship lesson #3: Good looks can only get one so far.) It only made sense to do the thing I’ve now come to regret learn about relationships. We were hardly ready to get married, thus we did what seemed to be the appropriate next thing to do before tying the knot: cohabitate.

Why would I ever think living with this boy was the right thing to do? I guess because I was always over at his apartment and vice versa. It didn’t make sense for him to have his own place and mine. I guess because I felt I was mature enough to move out of my parent’s house, and take on bills. I guess because I was in love with this boy, and it felt like the next step would be exactly this.

Wrong.

I learned that there really is a difference between living and staying over (almost) every night at someone’s house. You have to make choices together, like deciding what couch would look good sitting in the living room. And there’s cleaning responsibilities. Ha! And then there’s also paying bills together.

I’ve learned one thing about cohabitating, and that it is the deciding factor between two people to see if they’re compatible or not. And we weren’t. (This is a story of two incompatible people, and how they discovered that.)

My boyfriend would eventually become the roommate who I never saw. I became unhappy because I had these expectations about our living situation. (Silly me!) For instance, I expected him to come home each night because that was where we both lived. Naturally, he didn’t agree. I would become too involved with his life, and completely forget about mine. (What were my hobbies again?) I learned that our 800 square feet living situation was claustrophobic for both of us.

As our year lease was nearing, we would come to the agreement that although we wanted to be together, we needed to live in separate places. After all, we had never been properly together with our own places, while living in the same city. As the weeks went on, I kept thinking to myself that if he can’t live with me now, how will he ever?

We would eventually break up, and I would still write about it three years later.

I’ve always blamed our breakup on the fact that we moved in together. And her. Why could I never accept the fact that maybe we just weren’t ever that compatible in the first place? When I lurk on his facebook page, I can’t help but wonder where I would be if we were still together. Miserable? Happy? Apathetic? Longing for something else? Fortunately, moving in with him early on saved me years of wondering, and I learned we were not compatible, and never would be.

I know that the next time I get serious with someone, and that inevitable step will come, I know I’ll be terrified. I won’t know when the “right time” will be to live with someone. Is there a minimum number of years before that should happen? Five years? When you get engaged? Perhaps there’s not. Perhaps two people just take the plunge into the fear of the unknown and hope it all works out for the best.