Retro Active

It’s all well and good to be confident, forward thinking, and motivated to construct your own destiny, in fact it’s very good. But if who we are is the sum of who we have been and our dreams of who we want to be, then our pasts cannot be ignored. More worrisome, sometimes the past cannot be avoided.

We spend our lives amassing a network of friends, coworkers, and even family that become the framework of your future, and who give you something to talk about at cocktail parties. But what about when the framework seems to be constantly forming more durable and reinforced bonds in the wrong direction? Is it even possible to rip apart the welded bonds of your past to restructure your destiny? Both the easiest and the most difficult way to accomplish this is to abandon your old life altogether and start from scratch, which is both freeing and terrifying. It’s also nearly impossible with modern technology, but you can still achieve a fair approximation of it if you’re brave.

The more reasonable option to get yourself back on course has to start with knowing where, exactly, you would rather be. So much easier to plan out a path when you have a destination. On paper all of this makes a whole lot of sense, but the real challenge comes when you have to emotionally distance yourself from the life that is holding you back to seize the one you want with both hands- and the optimistic hope that it will all work out the way you want it to.

Risking everything to go after what you want is one of the most terrifying things you can do, but in my experience it is also the most fulfilling and rewarding. It almost never happens the way that you envision it, but I can’t say that I have ever come to regret throwing caution to the wind either.

Make a plan. Keep your (emotional) baggage limited to a small carry on. And take a chance.

Off to a Sexy Start

I was always completely aware that the trip to Israel was going to be much worse than the trip in Israel. A redeye from LA followed by an 11 hour flight to the promised land on an airline that promised to interrogate me. All of those dreams did come true.

In my ever logical and valiant efforts to arrive in Israel relatively bright eyed I resolved to stay awake all of Saturday night and sleep through the long haul flight. In this pursuit I decided that eight new books might be adequate to keep me occupied and awake. Little did I know I wouldn’t need any of them. By fate, or possibly a fatal combination of obliviousness and tenacity, I kept the poor man sitting next to me up for 5 hours; and he kept me up.

First, there was the mandatory tail feather flaunting of what schools we went to and what enviable jobs we have had. And then we had to prove how clever and smart we were. But then hours passed in a haze punctuated by in depth literary analysis, rather intimate commentary on our lives thus far and candid musings on our purpose and very selves. The flight crew, who were already striving for new levels of on board cheek, gave us a bottle of wine, and we drank it- at three in the morning. This, of course, both mellowed and intensified an already heady conversation, though wine did feel more appropriate than breakfast.

He decided he knew me well enough to flick me when I was being cute, and I decided he might be allowed to finish his own sentences instead of amusing myself with my own endings.

As any heroine would, I wrote my name in the back of his novel, and left him enigmatically at the gate. All before I ever left the country.

Black Fri Lady

Yes, I’m aware the wordplay does not completely work. But the sentiment stands true. There is nothing ladylike about elbowing your way to an eighteen dollar sweater at five in the morning. There is no reason to pay more for something than you have to, but the value of your time and character also have to be accounted for. The spirit of gift-giving is to think about the people in your life you want to show appreciation to and what it is in your power to give them that they might like.

The spirit is not to dive in to the dollar bin grabbing everything within reach, only to decide later which unfortunate cousin is going to get a battered copy of Die Hard, and who gets the stuffed reindeer with the jingle hat. Shopping on Black Friday is not relaxing, so you can’t even claim retail therapy.

The only ladylike way to shop on the Friday after Thanksgiving (the day after you have dedicated a whole uninterrupted twenty four hours to connecting with friends and family whilst consuming twice your body weight) is online. There are some incredible sales, that no reasonable person can expect you to ignore, but the pursuit of a bargain should not take over your brief respite from work and other distractions. Pick a time to commit yourself to the pursuit of a reasonably priced coat, or set a cellphone alarm for that Amazon lightning deal you just can’t miss, but limit it to an hour or two. Then read a book, curl up and watch a movie, or even take a walk with your aunt or other relative you don’t get to see very often.

As we get older, and advertising agencies get evermore overeager during the holiday season, we seem to forget that celebrating is meant to be about spending time and making memories with those we love. Whether it’s taking the time to tell one another what you’re thankful for, or making sure gifts are both thoughtful and personal, make sure you take full advantage of your time away from the obligations of work to play a little bit.

If your idea of play happens to include a quick tirade through Target with your mom, then so be it.

Happy Thanksgiving! And Happy Hanukkah!

The Ish Proviso

Everyone who has ever made plans with me has waited the requisite ten extra minutes that it takes me to arrive. It doesn’t matter how insignificant or important the plans – I will be late, but only a little. My best friends have learned that the best course of action is to lie to me. Approximate time is the only way you can hope to be blessed with my presence when you actually require it. So, in the interest of trying to be less misleading I have started to utilize what I have come to learn is the beautiful irreplacability of the suffix “ish”. If I’ve promised to be there at noon-“ish” then it’s just barely permissible that I walk in at 12:24. With the hope that I was at least offending people less, I started to explore the further possibilities of these three amazing letters. It actually becomes theoretically feasible to avoid taking responsibility for anything with liberal application of “ish”.

“I said I’d be there at 3-ish.” “Two hours away is close-ish.” “I swear I was wearing a condom-ish.”

If you’re someone who really can’t stand to be nailed down to your plans, or anyone else’s then I can’t think you’ve been very successful at avoiding it without some “ish”-ing. “Ish” is also of great use when trying to explain something you know very little about. Like wine, for instance.

“There’s definitely a woodsy-ish note below the full-bodied apricot-ish flavor.”

No one can argue with you. All you’ve really said is that it tastes like red wine with a fruity flavor. It’s made of grapes, and you can see that it’s red. You’re in good shape.

Your friend asks just how hot your Flamin’ Hot Cheetos really are. “Spicy-ish.” Suddenly you absolved yourself of the responsibility for the third degree burns to their tongue but you still get the enjoyment of watching them run about with their tongue hanging out of their face. Or manfully tearing up. Also funny.

It’s like when someone tells you you’re stylish. They don’t really mean it, obviously.

There is also massive potential to get yourself into trouble, so make sure to use “ish” moderately. The word “ish” and I are not responsible for any negative repercussions of your use of the word because I am only telling you how useful-ish it is.

Happy New Year (ish)!!!!! I’ve now addressed all time zones at once.

Life is just like ‘Friends’

I’m in LA, with my lovely job that everyone is either jealous of or proud of me for getting, and having odd run-ins with exceptionally strange strangers. What more could a type A, over-achieving, know-it-all, perky, smiley, girl like myself want out of life? If you answered anything other than an apartment – you are wrong. I need to not be homeless to complete my bubble of happiness.

And thus started the apartment search. I was met with the assurance that life is just like “Friends” and anytime you are in need of advice you should refer to their genius. Devout follower of TV that I am, this seemed like sound advice. You don’t stay on the air for a decade by spouting crap. Or at least without balancing out the crap with some applicable knowledge. Which leads us to Ugly Naked Guy. In one episode Ross decides that he wants Ugly Naked Guy’s apartment, and sees that it is going to take some wooing. He sends a muffin basket as an offer of peace and in hopes that their magic muffiny-ness will endear him enough to turn over his lease.

Lucky for me (and I really have been blessed with more than my fair share of luck in the past couple of months) I settled on an exceptionally lovely room with roommates that provided the licorice wands. And I can honestly say that the addition of candy to the negotiations drastically affected the outcome. Also, very happy to be on the receiving end.

Of course, now that I’ve managed to fulfill my professional and housing dreams my family’s first response was “Now all you need is a boyfriend!” Ugh. Can’t make them happy for trying. Unless my knight in shining armor rides his white horse onto the lot, bribes my boss, and brings a chai latte in his saddlebags to keep me awake, that part of my perfect life is going to have to wait until I work less. Or stop sleeping. Whichever. First order of business is making sure I have a bed when I move into my new place. Accomplishing that will be huge in my little universe. I’m not quite as co-dependent as Rachel – why the girl couldn’t just be thrilled with a job at Ralph Lauren is beyond me.

I have to say that one of the things I’m most excited about is my new HD DVR that is getting set up this weekend. I’ve never had a DVR before and, considering my television obsession, and my job, I’m fairly certain it’s going to change my life. I might possibly be more excited about it than the new sheets I got. And I really really like new sheets. Monica would totally approve.

I will think of Joey when I am convincing myself of the virtues of pizza as a food group. Somehow I expect it is going to feature prominently in my life as I become less interested in making something scrumptious and more obsessed with eating immediately.

My most Phoebe-esque moment of the recent past was the one day it was raining in L.A. I had been out of my car, with my uber-stylish umbrella for about 25 seconds when an SUV pulled over to the side of the road next to me, in the middle of Ventura Blvd., rolled down the window and said, “I love your umbrella. It looks good on you.” Thank you? The couple then pulled back into traffic. Is any umbrella really that cute?

I realize I didn’t mention any similarities to Chandler. I’m pretty sure that the longer that’s true the better I’m doing. But there are definitely worse ways to deal with life than watching Friends for a little inspiration.

Hillary of Troy

Tag: friends