Wednesday, March 30, 2011

PG Rated Morning

A PG Rated Morning

This morning, during what was becoming a regular mad dash to work, I came upon a guy looking for his dog in our apartment building. Apparently, his dog rushed out while they were on the elevator and at that precise moment when the doors were about to close. He also didn't have the presence of mind to quickly check which floor the dog ran off to, so now he was forced to go through each floor of the building to look for his pet. 

Which was all very unfortunate for him, and I did feel some amount of sympathy, but all of these details were thrown out the window the moment I realized he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts and a boxer shirt. He was going through all the floors of my building practically naked.

Now, call me a prude, but I'm pretty sure that walking around in your underwear in an apartment complex pushes the boundaries of propriety, even granting that you are so disoriented by the fact that you just lost your dog earlier. I mean, it takes two seconds to put on a decent pair of shorts and a shirt. Are you seriously going to tell me you didn't even have time to do that?

So, there he was, walking around as if looking like that in a public place was the most natural thing in the world. He then asked me if I saw a dog on my floor, and I said I didn't have time to look, and that I didn't see any. I was also very quick to avert my eyes, lest he think I was checking him out in all of his half-naked glory. (He was fairly good-looking though, which I guess I can consider a mitigating circumstance). 

I shared an elevator with him for a couple more floors, until he left on the third, to go around and shock more people with his nakedness I believe. Now that I think about it, maybe it's his way of getting people to stop so that he can ask them if they saw his dog somewhere.

You know what would be funny? If his lost pet was a bird. 

"Have you seen my bird?"

 "Not yet, but if you bend over at a certain angle, I'm sure I would soon."

Yes, my sense of humor is juvenile. Sue me. I'm blaming it on the fact that I'm not emotionally prepared to be accosted by half-naked men so early in the morning.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


Conversations are sometimes like a road to nowhere.

It was the glance I think, which summarized our relationship. Half-imploring, and remarkably opposed to the seemingly cool and confident words coming out of your mouth. And I realized how to say what needs to be said can sometimes be the most impossible thing in the world. To say the words directly requires the acceptance of responsibility, and the idea that one is responsible for the truths one speaks can be daunting. It requires one to be sincere, and in some instances, to be vulnerable. And who wants to be vulnerable? It just opens you up to pain. So we spoke in a language that operated in two spheres: "How was your day? The food is lovely," to mask the words we refuse to speak aloud, but which we also hope would be understood. (I love you. Never leave me.)

We spoke in riddles to disconnect meaning from our mouths, instead hoping for a relationship that transcended language, that transcended spirit, that transcended us.

Thursday, March 10, 2011


Which ears? Indecision sucks.

I sometimes feel like my life is directed by a series of circumstances defined by inaction and indecision. You know how there are people who take charge of their lives, who grab the bull by the horns so to speak, and who force things to happen? I used to think I was one of those people, except upon further reflection, I fear that I'm not. I have the distinct feeling I've just been floating along, mindlessly doing nothing and letting the currents in my life take me to wherever it will take me.

What' s scary is that I sometimes think that I don't do it "mindlessly". Sometimes, when forced to choose between two things, I decide to create another option, which is to not choose at all. Which I admit is a form of cowardice on my part, because I know that to decide actively requires me to assume the consequences of that decision, and perhaps I fool my brain into thinking that by choosing not to choose, then perhaps the end result will be that there will be no consequences.

Except that I know that there will be consequences. But deciding not to choose, at least for now, gives me some comfort that, maybe, the consequences of my inaction can be suspended too.

Only I'm not stupid enough to believe that. So I knowingly choose to be ignorant, which is the worst form of cowardice on my part. Not only am I afraid of the consequences of whatever decision I will make, and therefor choose not to decide, but I knowingly reject the knowledge that I already have of the consequences of my inaction. 

There are layers of foolishness here, I know. But I hope to have enough courage soon to defeat my fears.

Photo taken here.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Three Stories

Three stories about relationships and honesty.

“I left him because he was cheating on me.”

“How did you find out?”

 “You just know.  It's...I can't explain it. The way he seems so fidgety when I catch him surfing on a computer late at night, or when he tells me he's visiting his parents and it felt like a lie, or when he's just uneasy around restaurants or public areas. A lot of small things really. They just added up into this one huge thing. Then I checked his phone messages and found out for real.”

“What did you do?”

“I told the guard at my apartment building to never let him up. I then called him and told him I was breaking up with him because he was unfaithful.”


“Well, it’s not as easy as I’m telling it right now. It hurt like hell at the time, and I had to grieve in my own private way, but I needed to do it you know? For myself? In the end, I realized my dignity was more important.”


“When I found out about it, I honestly didn’t know what to do. At some point, I felt like I wanted to kill him.”

“But why did you stay?”

“Because I love him. And he reassured me that at the end of the day, I was still the most important person in his life. The others were just flings. Random encounters.”

“You believed him?”

“Well, yes. I know it sounds silly, but I really do.”

“Ok, I respect that, but how do you feel?”

“I feel hurt a lot of times, especially when I don’t know where he is, or why he isn’t texting, or when he says he’s out with friends. I also feel paranoid and insecure. But I love him, and the idea of him leaving me…I can’t stand it.”

“How about the idea of you leaving him?”

“Honestly, it never even crossed my mind. Well, maybe once or twice. But mostly, I just feel grateful he’s there.”


“Cheating is only cheating if it is against the rules in the first place. When you both accept the idea that it is impossible to be in a monogamous relationship in the first place, without either or both parties straying at some point, then the easier everything will be. You just have to make allowances really.”

“That seems awfully cynical.”

“And true. Honestly, for me, I wouldn’t really mind if my husband strayed as long as: a) I never catch him, b) he doesn’t get some girl pregnant, and c) he doesn’t come home with some venereal disease and infects me with it. Ignorance is key.”

“I think you just broke through the cynicism meter here.”

“Well, guess what? I’m not kidding. And frankly, I’m content and generally happy. At the end of the day, it works for me. And really, that's all anyone can ask for in a relationship. Whatever works for you.”

“But what if you find out?”

“Well, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that never happens.”

Photo taken here.


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