Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Soulmates?

Wow. My observations today lead me to this conclusion - there is really, TRULY, someone for everyone.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Funny Strange, not Funny Haha

It's funny how you don't really remember why it's called heartbreak until your heart is actually breaking.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Friday, March 19, 2010

Little Pleasure of Life #2

Those rare split-seconds in life when you look around and realize you're actually having fun.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

And the winner is...

You know that moment when the check comes to the table after a fantastic dinner with friends? And how usually that moment is, at worst, an abrupt return to reality or, at best, an annoying math problem?

Jeff Thrope found a way to make it fun. The dinner was remarkably cheap for a party of 6, and remarkably delicious. Thanks Mina!

video

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Forgive me this tangent (an explanation of my profile description)


Some people love music. Some people love money. Some people love pizza, or puppies, or gardening, or crafts, or cooking, or video games, or photography. But I love... love. I love everything about it. I love being in love, I love pursuing love, I love making love. I love reading about love and watching movies about love. I love desperate-romance love and dull-moments love. I love the light side of love, the way it can make you feel like nothing can fucking touch you, and I love the dark side of love, when you feel like everything that touches you fucking hurts. I love heartbreak, in a weird way, for the beautiful pain of it. I love watching two people in love when they think that no one is watching. I love when my friends are in love, but also when they're not in love and they're searching for something else by going out and getting wasted every night. I love how being in love changes a person, for better or for worse. I love that love has inspired some of the most magnificent art and some of the most brutal battles.

I love love. I just do.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Gossip

So, a couple nights ago, I was passing the time (or wasting time, depending on your world view) by listening to a friend tell a juicy story about how someone had deeply offended her. She was in full on gossip mode, giving it her all, doing the voices of each character and hitting the intonations of the person-in-question perfectly. I was hooked. The drama between her and this person involved me, but only in a very peripheral way, and I was succumbing to the utterly human temptation to gawk at a car accident.

[That's a gross truth, isn't it? How human beings tend to be fascinated by the tragedy of others? I mean, if you've ever been stuck in traffic outside of normal rush hour time, you can almost be sure it's because there's some wreck a mile or two up the highway. And 50% of the time, the wreck is on the other side of the road, and the only reason cars are backed up is because people are slowing down to gawk.]

Anyway, I was gawking. My story-telling friend (let's call her X) had me hooked. I was on her side all the way, rooting for her, looking down my nose at the other person (let's call him Y). She gave me a specific example of Y's insolence, and i almost snorted. "Figures," I thought. "Sounds just like something Y would do." Satisfied with my reaction, X brought her story to a close and walked away.

Just then, another friend, who had been floating in and out of the conversation (let's call her Z), turned my world upside down in one sentence. She had been there for the entirety of the aforementioned car accident, had watched it happen in real time, and she said, "The only reason Y did what he did was because X did this to him first."

Oh. Um, wow. Oops.

My feelings of superiority and smugness that had been directed at Y mere moments ago just melted away, and I was left feeling like a complete fool. If Z hadn't chimed in and told me what actually happened, from an unbiased outsider's perspective, I would have left that evening believing Y to be the enemy when in fact, neither X nor Y are the enemy. For that matter, neither is Z - her version of what happened that night probably differs slightly from any other outsider. Each version is crafted by an intricate mind, and each brain works in different ways and is encased in different packaging.

And maybe sometimes these minds, that work so differently and perceive the world in such different ways, maybe sometimes these minds don't quite see eye to eye.

Anyway, whatever. My point? The number of sides to a story is equal to the number of people involved.