Whimming high up in the sky…

…With Funny Man, Mr. Georgia, and Funny Man Jr. (names have been removed for privacy reasons). And when I say high, I don’t mean stoned, although that would be another interesting whim. It was a great time, just three older guys and a kid-girl getting to know each other for about an hour as we flew from Van Nuys, CA to Mesa, AZ on a Hawker 800 for Funny Man’s comedy tour.

But getting to that Hawker is a whole nuther story in of itself.

My dear friend Anne was supposed to pick me up 45 minutes before I needed to arrive at Clay Lacy Airport. The time to get from Simi Valley to Clay Lacy is about 35-40 minutes. But she needed a buddy to ride with us so they could get back to Thousand Oaks in time for work by way of the carpool lane. So our friend Joe calls me. He decides he’ll be driving because both of their cars are out of gas and Joe drives fast enough to get me to the airport on time. As he’s explaining his plan, he’s also sitting at Cisco’s having a few drinks with our other friend Reid. I roll my eyes thinking Anne will still be driver.

So 4:17 rolls by, just a few minutes behind when I need to be leaving, and my friends pull up with Joe as driver. I immediately have a bad feeling. This is going to suck somehow.

I jump in and Joe takes off. In the wrong direction.

“Where the hell are you going?” I say, as he begins to drive deeper into the mazelike neighborhood, instead of having turned around back to the main street which he should have done in the first place!

“What? You never gone this way?” Joe says in his usual cocky tone.

Anne laughs.

It takes 10 minutes for Joe to blindly and arrogantly navigate through the neighborhood to finally pull out back onto the main street. As we drive towards the freeway, we pass my road. Obviously, THAT was no shortcut.

Anne laughs again. At this point, I want to pull out my hair, which I spent time making pretty, and was now being blown around by wind and smoke because Joe decided to start smoking in the car.

“So where’s the gas station?” Joe asks. At this point he’s finally listening to me, which he should have been doing 10 minutes prior! I tell him and we get gas as he’s smoking and admitting it’s illegal. Of course! Joe is Mr. Invincible and can get away with everything as long as he buys the other whoever a drink.

We hit the freeway at 100 mph. In traffic. Not too heavy, but enough that driving 100mph made me think we were either gonna DIE or get pulled over, which BOTH would have made me very late! Needless to say, from what should have taken 40 minutes took only 20 as we pulled up to Clay Lacy. As I frantically tried to straighten myself up and pretend like I didn’t just go through hell, Mr. Georgia came out and greeted me. All was better. He took my bag and ushered me inside the private reception area as Joe took off with Anne.

I told Mr. Georgia the entire story. He just laughed. We walked toward the Hawker 800 right as Funny Man and Jr. pulled up to board. To sum up the flight, I talked with the pilots, asked if I could fly (no, alright next time), got to know Mr. Georgia and Jr., and Funny Man Christanna2 piped in once in a while either teasing me about living in Simi Valley or why in the world did I move to California if I did mainly theater stuff. Mr. Georgia would back me up. 🙂

All in all, it was a lifetime experience. Thankfully Mr. Georgia had a camera because I forgot to bring mine. It was nice of him to offer taking pictures. It was also great to see my parents and grandparents whom I hadn’t seen in a long time. It’s not everyday you can just call up your mom and say, “hey, what are you doing? I can hang out today in an hour if you want” when you live in another state.

One of these days, private jets will be the only way I fly. 😉

PS-Come to find out later that Joe rear-ended someone after dropping me off. But he was only going 30 mph. Lol.

Not even a year

So, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything. Many things have occurred since my last post. I have done numerous auditions for film and theater of all kinds. I also did an audition for the character Wonder Woman for Six Flags Magic Mountain. Warner Brothers and DC Comics had to approve of my appearance for Wonder Woman. Amazingly, I got the approval on top of being considered one of the best looking Wonder Women they’ve ever seen. If only they’d do a movie…

Also, I got cast in Roger’s and Hammerstein’s musical Cinderella. My first rehearsal was today and it felt great to be apart of a musical once again. Cinderella marks the first big show I’m apart of in California. Of course, I was in the monologue show called Sex, Relationships, and Sometimes Love, where I played a seductive, sexy rapist who lost interest in her prey, but that lasted only for a little while.

I feel pretty good about my almost first year in California. Although the only thing I realized after being here for nine months is that I haven’t made any close friends. And because of that, I’ve found it very lonely. One of my closest friends came to visit me recently and I noticed just how much I missed having good, close girlfriends. I had such a good time with Marilyn and her fiancé that I couldn’t help but feel sorry for myself. For the nine months of living here, I had failed to make any good friends. In reality, the closest friend I made was the Terminator, the man I had been seeing for, ironically, nine months, but since he decided to “terminate” the relationship, I found myself back at the beginning.

So, if that’s the case, I’ve always been good with beginnings. I think the one thing to learn from this is to make good friends first before anything else, otherwise you end up alone.

I’ve Had a Revelation…

…Just recently. While I was talking with my girlfriend Rachel on the phone earlier today, we got on the topic of suicidal thoughts.

...a blast of a second.

NOW DON’T FREAK OUT JUST YET!

She and I confide in each other our deepest dark sides, one of them being our crazy, spur-of-the-moment, suicidal thought-flashes. I call them thought-flashes because…that’s exactly what they are. Flashes shooting from one of end of the brain to the other in the blast of a second.

“Sometimes, while I’m driving,” I say to Rachel, this being nearly a year ago, “and maybe while I’m on a ramp, I have these sudden urges to drive my car off the edge and end it all.”

“Me too!” Rachel exclaims, probably relieved that she wasn’t the only one who had crazy flash-thoughts like that.

Earlier today, we reminisced on these thoughts, and then it occurred to me! I hadn’t had one of those flash-thoughts (at least in the suicidal sense) NOT ONCE since my move to California.

I used to have them consistently throughout my life…and if I am truly honest and look back from when it first started, these dark thoughts arose when I was only a kid in third grade…and had just moved to Arizona with my parents.

Now, granted I was a generally happy kid, with the occasional meltdowns here and there. But there’s nothing really RIGHT about suicidal thoughts. I can’t tell you what inspired them in the first place, but I can tell you they’ve finally disappeared. And that makes me very happy. I now cringe when remembering how I once thought like that, almost feeling like it was a whole ‘nother dimension.

Obviously I couldn’t be happier now that those thoughts have gone. For some people, it takes a person. For others, it takes a place. For me, it’s the place. 🙂

Who did WHAT to me?!?!

Below is a list of five people who impacted/affected my life within the past five years. Something I walked away with while knowing them.

Chris Cameron—motivation for academic straight-A’s when motivation was grim.

Marilyn Rodriguez—acquired the ability of defense (not taking shit).

Rachel Bruce—learned to listen.

Mathew Solace—learned to love…not necessarily romantic love, but unselfish love.

Anthony Garcia—real devotion and patience…not necessarily a strong trait in myself, but something I’m working towards because of.

Notice how I didn’t mention my parents. It’s because they could only teach me the general nuts and bolts of living. The rest, you begin to learn when learning from those outside your parental region.

Well, that’s my list, but there’s always more to come now that I’m meeting new people (like Michael Duisenberg—still learning…). S’why I love meeting new people. You never know what you’re gonna learn about yourself.

Who added to your learning of life? You’ll be surprised when you take the time to think about it.

2010: The Sequel! And…what should be my new Resolution?

Of course, I’m referring to the 80s film 2010 which precedes 2001: A Space Odyssey. Neither of these films actually foretold the future of the Millennium very well. We have not built a base on the Moon and have not found the answer to the beginning of intelligence on Earth.

However, once 2010 hits, a simple revelation will be made…sort of. Of course, I’m referring to myself. What else are blogs for but to write personal accounts, heavy opinions on topics that reside within my own brain, untouched and stubborn to the outside thoughts of others, but mildly interested and appreciative of those thoughts.

2010 is coming and so a whole new year will unfold. It was only a year ago when I was making my slow-crawling ascent from the depths of despair which I had somehow allowed myself to tumble down into. My New Year’s Resolution then was to go “whimming,” to start a whole new look at life, to find happiness when happiness seemed so foreign and far, to embark on adventures, to laugh and play, to DATE like no other had dated before! Allowing myself to be open in case lightning struck me hard, waking me from a dreamlike reality I had been escaping to.

I found it: the path to Happy Ville. I found the ability to not need too much, to use logic rather than emotion ( in simpler terms, I have found a way to become more Vulcan), to be more confident in my beliefs about life, to not be knocked down, and so on.

At the beginning of 2009, I was barely surviving my own destruction, deciding on writing being the only way out. I made the bestest (YES, bestEST) of friends I could ever think of having and had the pleasure of creating memories I will never forget.

In 2009, I discovered the life of dating many different types of guys, while finally slowing down with The Terminator, whom I also refer to as my manfriend.

In 2009, I finally found a home: California. I never thought I would feel so comfortable here as fast as I did. I still revel in the fact that people here actually pronounce my name correctly right off the bat, rather than always screwing it up as they did in Arizona. I always think that’s a sign I belong…

However, not everything is all peaches and cream. My grandfather, Papa, is dying, mentally and physically. Once the smartest man I knew, is now the weakest man I know. I thought it would frighten me that he couldn’t remember me or mom, but it hasn’t. I had come to accept this, along with the rest of my family. He may not last another year, and even if he did physically, he will have no memory left. He brought me up as a child, but he will not witness me become a wife, a mother, a successful person…It is weird to think about.

Nonetheless, I actually did conquer my previous New Year’s resolution. I found the motivation to keep up a consistent blog, I finally graduated college, I got the hell out of Arizona and didn’t get stuck in a place I never wanted to be, I found a drama-free living situation with roommates who are kind yet distant, I am interning in two places at once, both being apart of the entertainment industry, I have already done three different Red Carpet events, met Patrick Kilpatrick, and have developed friendships with wonderfully interesting and fun people.

Most importantly, I found where I belong. I found my Happy Place. I guess finding happiness is easier than losing weight…? At least it is for me—I like food too much.

Next New Year’s Res.? I am FINALLY READY to find Love!…Although, considering this is much harder to achieve than even losing weight, I might change it to Being Able To Quit BJ’s. Or maybe they shall both be my New Year’s Res.? What do you think? Which one should be my Resolution? Love or Quitting BJ’s? You tell me.

I hope all of you had your wishes come true this year. And even if they didn’t, or you feel disappointed in some part of your life, just remember, tomorrow is another day! (thank you, scarlet o’hara).

Sex, Love, and Success!

These three words may be the most complicated words in the human emotional dictionary. Each of us has our own personal definition or way of life for each of these words, and which is the right way and which is the wrong. I of course have my own uncommon perspective on what these words mean, and I will admit that I know my perspective will change as I get older and older.
Let me start with the word SUCCESS. Definitely a loaded word, but so are the words LOVE and SEX. Success has a multitude of “deep” meanings. Success is “trying not to please everybody” (Bill Cosby), is “going for your goal steadily and aiming for it unswervingly” (Cecil B. DeMille), is “to be able to spend your life in your own way” (Christopher Morley), is “finding your lifework in the work that you love” (David McCullough), is “the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm” (Sir Winston Churchill), and it “usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it” (Henry David Thoreau). The list of meanings goes on and on, but the real, straight-up definition of success is defined as “a degree or measure of succeeding; favorable or desired outcome; the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary).
As we all grow into the people we are being shaped to be, we are all faced with the fear of failing in whatever it is we are striving towards. Some of us are more fearful than others, have expectations that seem impossible to fulfill, and we are always standing on the edge of what-ifs and how-comes. Some of us have dreams that are never achieved and we feel we have failed in life because of it. I tell you that is not so. Things change and alter around us for a reason and it is how we react to those changes that determines our success. It is our fear of failing that will cause us to fail. The ability to overcome your fear will bring you success. That is what SUCCESS means to me. To live life without fear getting in the way.
Now it’s ironic that fear is the leading cause in failing in another area of life: the ability to LOVE. If you fear love, you fail love. Another loaded word. Here’s what the world thinks of love: “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” (Alfred Lord Tennyson); “To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides” (David Viscott); “One’s first love is always perfect until one meets one’s second love” (Elizabeth Aston); “All love that has not friendship for its base is like a mansion built on sand” (Ella Wheeler Wilcox); “There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness” (Friedrich Nietzsche); and finally, “There is no remedy for love but to love more” (Henry David Thoreau).
In my current situation, I have had only one great love. But even then, as I look on it now, I don’t know if I was really in love or not. I have found that I don’t know what real love is or how it feels. I can’t seem to recognize it. So I go out and test my reactions to certain people by dating them. Some of them excite my physical side, others are intellectually fun to talk to, and some of them are the infamous arrogant bastards playing off as good guys. Can’t fool me! I can smell a sneaky asshole from miles away.
Finding out what love means for each and everyone of us takes a lifetime. So, if I could tell you what love means to me right now, I know that years down the road it will change again. So I can only tell you that, after careful observation of the chemical reactions in my body and mind that is closely related to what I consider “love,” this feeling of obsession and desire is very hard to find when masked by bitterness. After a messy breakup, bitterness takes its place, as much as some of us deny it, and won’t fade until desperation for love comes again. And when I say “desperation,” I’m talking really, really, really desperate. People can go a long time without falling in love again, feeling invincible to the potential heartbreak love brings. But even with all the bitterness I’m working on disintegrating from my heart, I know now that love is a decision, a “choice you make to want the best for the other person.” I heard that from somewhere, but I don’t remember where. I think I finally understand what it means.
Which leads me to the last complicated word: SEX. Love is most commonly related to the action of sex, or sometimes referred to as “making love.” Sex is also seen as “the act of love” even if the two people aren’t really IN LOVE—whatever that means—but it is a moment where people share a moment of tenderness.
This is how sex is seen by much wiser people than me: “I know nothing about sex because I was always married (Zsa Zsa Gabor); “In America, sex is an obsession. In other parts of the world, it’s a fact” (Marlene Dietrich); “A man can sleep around, no questions asked, but if a woman makes nineteen or twenty mistakes, she’s a tramp” (Joan Rivers); “Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place” (Billy Crystal); “One thing I’ve learned in all these years is not to make love when you really don’t feel it; there’s probably nothing worse you can do to yourself than that” (Norman Mailer).
I was once a girl who wanted to wait until marriage so that sex was the gift I would give to my husband. I was very adamant about it, but then lost my V-card to a boy I thought I was madly in love—same old song and dance—after seven months into the relationship of both being virgins. I was 21 years old. After the relationship ended, I made myself promise that I wouldn’t have sex again until I was “in love”…again. Instead, I had a night with someone I cared very deeply about. My best friend. And it was also seven months in. Not that there’s a pattern, but I thought it interesting to mention. Then I moved to California and a week into it I had been asked out by The Terminator. By the second date, I gave into my desire for sex with him. Totally out of character for me! Because it wasn’t out of love that I had sex with him, but rather it was a moment of random passion. I realized then that my perspective on sex really had been completely altered. I’d overheard that after the end of your first serious relationship, the whole idea of love and sex changes. And so it did. Which surprises me and then…makes perfect sense.
There isn’t a sense of regret for any of it. Sex is still something I hold very special, but only for the one I choose it to be special with. The Terminator may have been a one time thing, because I still want to wait until I’m in love before doing it again. And falling in love for me is rare and numbered. So maybe, when the day finally comes where the feelings of obsession and happiness combine, where I can finally say “I am madly in love with you!” and it is returned, I will be successful in something everyone wants. Love plus sex. A success in of itself.
So there you have it. Some wise words explaining wise words from someone who’s learning to be…

These three words may be the most complicated words in the human emotional dictionary. Each of us has our own personal definition or way of life for each of these words, and which is the right way and which is the wrong. I of course have my own uncommon perspective on what these words mean, and I will admit that I know my perspective will change as I get older and older.

Let me start with the word SUCCESS. Definitely a loaded word, but so are the words LOVE and SEX. Success has a multitude of “deep” meanings. Success is “trying not to please everybody” (Bill Cosby), is “going for your goal steadily and aiming for it unswervingly” (Cecil B. DeMille), is “to be able to spend your life in your own way” (Christopher Morley), is “finding your lifework in the work that you love” (David McCullough), is “the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm” (Sir Winston Churchill), and it “usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it” (Henry David Thoreau). The list of meanings goes on and on, but the real, straight-up definition of success is defined as “a degree or measure of succeeding; favorable or desired outcome; the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary).

As we all grow into the people we are being shaped to be, we are all faced with the fear of failing in whatever it is we are striving towards. Some of us are more fearful than others, have expectations that seem impossible to fulfill, and we are always standing on the edge of what-ifs and how-comes. Some of us have dreams that are never achieved and we feel we have failed in life because of it. I tell you that is not so. Things change and alter around us for a reason and it is how we react to those changes that determines our success. It is our fear of failing that will cause us to fail. The ability to overcome your fear will bring you success. That is what SUCCESS means to me. To live life without fear getting in the way.

Now it’s ironic that fear is the leading cause in failing in another area of life: the ability to LOVE. If you fear love, you fail love. Another loaded word. Here’s what the world thinks of love: “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” (Alfred Lord Tennyson); “To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides” (David Viscott); “One’s first love is always perfect until one meets one’s second love” (ElizabethAston); “All love that has not friendship for its base is like a mansion built on sand” (Ella Wheeler Wilcox); “There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness” (Friedrich Nietzsche); and finally, “There is no remedy for love but to love more” (Henry David Thoreau).

In my current situation, I have had only one great love. But even then, as I look on it now, I don’t know if I was really in love or not. I have found that I don’t know what real love is or how it feels. I can’t seem to recognize it. So I go out and test my reactions to certain people by dating them. Some of them excite my physical side, others are intellectually fun to talk to, and some of them are the infamous arrogant bastards playing off as good guys. Can’t fool me! I can smell a sneaky asshole from miles away.

Finding out what love means for each and everyone of us takes a lifetime. So, if I could tell you what love means to me right now, I know that years down the road it will change again. So I can only tell you that, after careful observation of the chemical reactions in my body and mind that is closely related to what I consider “love,” this feeling of obsession and desire is very hard to find when masked by bitterness. After a messy breakup, bitterness takes its place, as much as some of us deny it, and won’t fade until desperation for love comes again. And when I say “desperation,” I’m talking really, really, really desperate. People can go a long time without falling in love again, feeling invincible to the potential heartbreak love brings. But even with all the bitterness I’m working on disintegrating from my heart, I know now that love is a decision, a “choice you make to want the best for the other person.” I heard that from somewhere, but I don’t remember where. I think I finally understand what it means.

Which leads me to the last complicated word: SEX. Love is most commonly related to the action of sex, or sometimes referred to as “making love.” Sex is also seen as “the act of love” even if the two people aren’t really IN LOVE—whatever that means—but it is a moment where people share a moment of tenderness.

This is how sex is seen by much wiser people than me: “I know nothing about sex because I was always married (Zsa Zsa Gabor); “In America, sex is an obsession. In other parts of the world, it’s a fact” (Marlene Dietrich); “A man can sleep around, no questions asked, but if a woman makes nineteen or twenty mistakes, she’s a tramp” (Joan Rivers); “Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place” (Billy Crystal); “One thing I’ve learned in all these years is not to make love when you really don’t feel it; there’s probably nothing worse you can do to yourself than that” (Norman Mailer).

I was once a girl who wanted to wait until marriage so that sex was the gift I would give to my husband. I was very adamant about it, but then lost my V-card to a boy I thought I was madly in love—same old song and dance—after seven months into the relationship of both being virgins. I was 21 years old. After the relationship ended, I made myself promise that I wouldn’t have sex again until I was “in love”…again. Instead, I had a night with someone I cared very deeply about. My best friend. And it was also seven months in. Not that there’s a pattern, but I thought it interesting to mention. Then I moved to California and a week into it I had been asked out by The Terminator. By the second date, I gave into my desire for sex with him. Totally out of character for me! Because it wasn’t out of love that I had sex with him, but rather it was a moment of random passion. I realized then that my perspective on sex really had been completely altered. I’d overheard that after the end of your first serious relationship, the whole idea of love and sex changes. And so it did. Which surprises me and then…makes perfect sense.

There isn’t a sense of regret for any of it. Sex is still something I hold very special, but only for the one I choose it to be special with. The Terminator may have been a one time thing, because I still want to wait until I’m in love before doing it again. And falling in love for me is rare and numbered. So maybe, when the day finally comes where the feelings of obsession and happiness combine, where I can finally say “I am madly in love with you!” and it is returned, I will be successful in something everyone wants. Love plus sex. A success in of itself.

So there you have it. Some wise words explaining wise words from someone who’s learning to be…

*all these quotes were taken from http://www.quotationspage.com/

Fall is coming and so is cabin fever.

It’s nearly been a month now and I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry to find friends before. It reminds me of my first semester at ASU where I didn’t know anybody and none of my classes ever gave an opportunity to make friends.

I suppose because I have now moved to a different state, where things are brand new, I want more than ever to have a good collection of friends to experience all the new things around me. Somewhere in the back of my head I’m scared that I’ll never have a good group of friends like I did my last year in college. Those kinds of friends a rare and hard to find.

I did, however, manage to make at least one friend, The Terminator. But because he’s an hour away, it makes it hard to enjoy spontaneous night outs.

The days are going by fast here and fall is approaching. It is beautiful out and the leaves are just starting to golden. And I wait patiently for something to happen…

How do you choose the right vs the wrong?

When all is well and good, where I have successfully kept myself out of trouble, staying out of relationships, keeping myself safe from heartbreak, guarding my heart and controlling my feelings, I’ve realized that I let one slip through the gates.

What do you do when you’re faced with a difficult decision, confusing and depressing? Where you can’t make sense of what you’re feeling? When you don’t know what to do anymore, and the answer that once was so clear is now so skewed?

Making decisions can suck
Making decisions can suck

Human feelings can suck and screw with logic. No wonder Vulcans look down upon us so. When we are faced with something we don’t want to do, but know is best in the long run, we delay the inevitable. We hold on to what we know we’ll lose. We run from what we know is coming. All the while, we go on with our daily lives, pretending there’s nothing to choose from.

I’ve found that I am exactly in this annoyingly difficult situation. I always knew it would come some day, where I would have to let go of my best friend, but I don’t think I knew just how hard it would be. Considering I’ve been through a lot of hard “letting go” situations, I thought this one would be easier to deal with.

But of course, it’s not easy, and while I convince myself and my feelings that I don’t know what to do anymore, somewhere in the back of mind the answer is glaring at me. I just don’t like it. So I don’t listen.

I’ve always hated making the big decisions. I never feel like I’ll make the right one. There have been many times where I’ve felt like I made a big mistake. But I suppose that’s how it is in most cases. I seem to always choose the bumpy road versus the smooth one. Maybe it’s my personality. I like the challenge rather than the simple. Who knows?

So I’ll leave it all up to God. Won’t claim any responsibility… Just kidding. 😉

But things like this really are out of our hands, and we should just pray and hope the answer is near.

Boys and Girls can’t just be friends…

Unless the boy is gay of course.

I’ve been very stubborn to admit this statement can be true. I mean, come on! I grew up with boys, felt more comfortable with them, and many times considered myself to be one of them. In fact, many of my closest friends were boys. There were a few years here and there where I actually asked my best “guy friend” if he would be my maid of honor (whenever the day would come I would actually get married). We had a good laugh about it. How it would be unheard of. And how I’d better find a husband who wouldn’t mind my bestest friend in the whole world to be another (straight) guy.

I believed I could pull it off having a sans-sexual-tension best friend relationship with the opposite sex. Of course, I always think I can pull anything off, be above and beyond the norm. I was a very stubborn thinker during my teens and to my early twenties. Now that I am nearing my mid-twenties and have attempted to continue this way of thinking, I’ve realized I made a mistake.

Years ago, I saw the film When Harry Met Sally, which is supposed to be a story about two opposite sexes trying to ignore the ultimate sexual attraction they have for one another. They indulge in relationships with other people and keep their best friend relationship. As the movie continues, their friendship gets more complicated (of course!) and lots of random fighting start to sour everything up. Ultimately something needs to change in their friendship, but I’m not going to say what it was in case you haven’t seen the movie. Don’t wanna spoil the ending. 🙂

It’s funny, these platonic relationships. Because someone always seems to be more attracted to the other and has to learn how to control their feelings in case of ruining the comfortable friendship they have (now when I say friendship, I’m talking about really close friendships; best friend status). In most cases, I’ve found that it’s always the guy who starts to feel the sexual tension for his best “female” friend. Usually, for the girl, it never occurs to her unless someone else says something like, “Hey, you guys look cute together…” and only then does the sex idea pop up into her head. Otherwise, usually the girl is completely clueless about her best friend’s attraction to her. Usually.

Where am I going with this? Well, what happens when those two friends start to explore their sexual attraction for one another, all the while trying to stay “just friends?”

Crap happens. The deeper, romantic and complicated feelings start to come out and if the relationship isn’t defined appropriately, the friendship becomes more troublesome and messy than it should be. Everything you once thought was clear becomes cloudy and confusing. And your best friend becomes the source of your problems, instead of the problem solver. There’s no getting away from it, and there’s no sense in denying it.

So what do you do? Seeing as I really don’t have the answer, I’m gonna have to admit that I don’t know. But what I can tell you is to do this: Take a deep breath, count to ten, and wait for the answer to come. You’ll only see it on a clear day.

And so the sun rises…

 

It was my last night at work and I didn’t get home until 6 a.m. For the first time in years, I saw the sun rise. As I drove up the curving mountainous highway, only a few of us other late nighters keeping company on the long road home, I watched the star-studded sky fade into a pale blue. And then, from the east, the pale blue blushed orange and red, the distant mountains hiding the awakening sun.

My eyes ached for sleep, my legs throbbed to rest, and I smelled of milk…or rather dried whipped cream. Indeed, it was a long night. And as I spend my last few days living in Arizona, I wonder vaguely who I will become, what will alter me, who will I meet, who will I befriend? And, though the mere thought of existing in a place where life starts all over again is thrilling, I can’t help but feel panicked. Because the people I know today cannot be replaced. And they are amazing human beings.

It’s not every day you look forward to going to work, but when your work includes a ton of fantastic people, it changes your perspective. That is, if you allow yourself to SEE the people and who they are.

Like I said, it was my last day and I ended up closing, which was great cause I needed it! I had a group of friends from work waiting for me at a bar. They came back to see how close I was to being done, and graciously surprised me with whipped cream to the face, which I shared by smearing back on their faces—though some escaped before I could get to them. We met up with some other buddies from work, some of which had already started drinking. Knowing I had a two hour drive to get back up to my parents’ place, I had to make sure I didn’t drink too much.

The boys bought us rounds and we laughed the night away, all work relations faded, all differences gone, acting like we’d known each other all our lives when we‘d only known each other for a short time. Being an observer type, I marveled at how distinctive we were and, yet, very much the same. All searching, all learning, needing, wanting, regretting, forgetting, beginning. Wanting different, but feeling the same.

We watched a friend serenade to us—and the bar—which then inspired them to provoke me into singing as well. I complained about not knowing anything with meaningful lyrics, whereas Hakim had been singing some seriously deep stuff. But, later, as I drove up I-17, watching the sunrise, a song I hadn’t thought about in years popped into my head and I couldn’t believe I didn’t think of it before. The first time I sang this song, I was in 6th grade and didn’t fully understand the meaning of what it was I was singing, though I thought maybe someday I would. I do now. So here it is:

A new life.

What I wouldn’t give to have a new life.

One thing I have learned as I go through life,

Nothing is for free along the way…

A new start.

That’s the thing I need to give me new heart.

Half a chance in life to find a new part,

Just a simple role that I can play…

A new hope.

Something to convince me to renew hope.

A new day.

Bright enough to help me find my way.

A new chance.

One that maybe has a touch…of romance.

Where can it be? The chance for me?

A new dream.

I have one I know that very few dream.

I would like to see that overdue dream,

Even though it never may come true.

A new love.

Though I know there’s no such thing as true love.

Even so, although I never knew love,

Still I feel this one dream is my due.

A new world.

This one thing I want to ask of you, World.

Once before it’s time to say adieu, World,

One sweet chance to prove the cynics wrong.

A new life.

More and more as sure as I go through life,

Just to play the game and to pursue life,

Just to share its pleasures and belong.

That’s what I’ve been here for all along.

Each days a brand…new….life.

-Frank Wildhorn

I believe this song relates to all of us trying to find our little niches in this world. No matter how old or young you are, some of us never stop looking for that special…something.

This is what I see in the people I work with. This is what I see in the strangers that pass by me. This is what I see every day. The search for a new life.

That night, we finished by taking home a troubled friend who had had a little too much to drink. Then Erica and I walked nearly two miles back to our cars. Thank goodness it was cool out.

I know that I’ll never forget the people I’ve worked with. It’s not every day your work buddies become an important part of your life. I’ll remember the days we got along and the days we didn’t. But in the end, we all came together…with a little drink or two. 🙂

And as I drove the long two hour stretch back home, I passed Sunset Point and laughed. The sun was rising.