Thoughts

Last night over a glass of wine, a new friend told me that it seems that at a young age I have discovered something most people search for their entire lives, unsuccessfully. I inquired as to what he meant and he explained it is something along the lines of contentment. I thought for a moment and realized he was right, I am content but I certainly did not wake up one day and exclaim “A HA! I am content!,” for we all know the pursuit of happiness is not this simple. Rather, I woke up one day and said “Becca, stop being such an f’ing idiot and get your s*** together.” This was after a break-up of two years, flying home to my parents’ house and not leaving my room or eating for 5 days and finally growing tired/bored of being pathetic.  It happens.

But, I fiercely believe that at the feet of rainbows are pots of gold if you withstand storms with patience and courage. I have tried to elaborate on the sources of my contentment below.

1. The courage to say I am not perfect and I actually prefer it this way
Can you imagine if we were all perfect? When I try it feels more like a nightmare than a dream. Think of the times you have laughed until you cried. These were usually moments where you laughed at your own flaws or the imperfections of our culture. And let’s be honest, what is perfection anyways? How could imperfect people define or even understand what perfect means. Not to mention we usually resent people who seem to “have it all.” Do you know what having it all means? It means that you have given up one thing to have another: a family, a chocolate bar, sleeping in. Or it means that maybe things have come a little easier to some, but at the expense of not growing through the challenges. The most amazing people in my life are those with deep scars: the unexpected death of a father, the loss of her virginity to a man who did not ask permission, the end of a two year relationship to discover he had cheated the whole time. These experiences did not define the people in my life, but these experiences have given them the character and courage to embrace this imperfect existence and they are better and more beautiful people for it.

2. The rationality to differentiate between the things I can control and the things I can’t
If you are tired it is probably because 1) you were out too late last night 2) you spend all your energy trying to change the things you can’t or 3) a combination of the two. I was exhausted, so I decided to place everything into one of three categories:  1) things I can control 2) things I may be able to influence and 3) things I can’t control. Interestingly enough, with everything in its appropriate category, it was obvious that I have spent my entire life investing all my time and energy attempting to control the things I can’t, leaving no time or energy to influence the things I can. That’s crazy! But you probably do it too. Moreover, we usually just talk about the things we can change, but then don’t do anything about them. That’s even crazier! If you are in an unhealthy relationship, get out or get a therapist. If you are unhappy with your body, go to the gym and cut out the cookies. If you want to change the weather, tough luck. And Becca, PLEASE stop talking about wanting to get your yoga license and just do it. And ladies, I hate to break it to you, but being the skinniest girl at the bar doesn’t mean you will meet Mr. right, because here is the kicker, YOU CANT CONTROL OTHER PEOPLE. Please just accept this.

3. The understanding that I am not a cat. I don’t have 9 lives, but one.
I think this is pretty self-explanatory, but if you don’t like your job, look for a new one. Yes, patience is a virtue, but if you haven’t liked it for 3 years, chances are you won’t like it tomorrow and now you are just wasting your time. If you have doubts about your relationship now after two years, and I mean serious doubts, chances are you are going to have some even more serious doubts 10 years from now, but a break up doesn’t just mean eating an entire box of chocolates while listening to Taylor Swift, but trying to decide who has the kids on the weekends. I think we all tend to spend too much time waiting things out when we deep down know they won’t change. I also think that if we truly considered and embraced the fact this is our one life, most of us would do at least several things differently.

4. The conviction that above all other things, I must be a good person and the rest will follow.
Just trust me on this one. You will be happier if you are kinder, if you make thoughtful decisions and give others the credit of the doubt, if you decide to try to understand instead of judge. The reality is that you usually don’t know the full story and it may make a lot more sense that your co-worker has been a little moody when you discover her mom has stage four cancer. I won’t belabor the point, but if you have a bad attitude, it’s not only going to wear off on others but on you, and you will be the source of your own unhappiness. So try to smile and if you can’t, imagine accidently pooping your pants in public and surely you can at least flash a grin.

5. The belief that I was created for a beautiful purpose (even if I have ABSOLUTELY no idea what that is)
Don’t get me started. I have absolutely no idea what I want to “be,” besides me. Maybe my purpose in life is merely to have a sloppy blog that is read by one person or 1000. Maybe I am meant to do a lot of things that don’t fit neatly into a category and I could create a category of my own like Oprah. Maybe, I am just meant to help others find their happiness and as a result make room for a little more sunshine in this world. Maybe I’m meant to stop rambling because you get the point. I am special and so are you. And we will both do great things if we have the courage to wake up today and say, “I am imperfect, I have a purpose, and I am OK.”

You might be thinking I am drinking the Kool-Aid and you are wrong, I’m drinking a diet coke. You also might think I am suggesting that I have no bad days. Newsflash: I have TERRIBLE DAYS - days that are so bad, I want to throw my chair out the window of 30 Rock and run through the c-suite naked. But, thank god I feel frustration, disappointment, anger and remorse because if I didn’t, I would either be ignorant, on drugs or a sociopath. Emotions, both good and bad tell us so much about ourselves and they teach us how to engage with this world, so turn off NPR and tune into you. 

To all the good homies

Let me tell you something, my new goal is much more taxing than shedding my winter muffin top, and too be quite candid, I would rather eat a muffin than shed one. I think I alluded to this earlier, but my new goal is to be a better person. I’m not talking mother Theresa style because we all know I am a far cry from walking in those shoes, but I do want to try to be more patient, less judgmental, and focused on things of substance rather than the shallow distractions that bombard us every day.

Unfortunately, I have quickly discovered is that it is much easier to be a good person when everything goes good, or “well” as I say now that I don't live on the farm, but when my day is a disaster, we have a jackle-hyde situation on our hands. As result, I had to revisit my ambition. Maybe I will just be a good person on good days and then give myself a little more slack on days of unpredictable disappointment and annoyance. Unfortunately I think this flexibility defeats the point. Being a good person on good days comes pretty naturally, and it’s the bad days where we should focus. Yes, my goal must be to be a good person on these days too. Why you ask? Because fickle fragile goodness is not goodness, it’s the easy way out.

This may be cheating, but while I was on the elliptical yesterday I was reading through some of my old blogs and thought it was time to give a shout-out to the type people that inspire me, the “ambassadors of goodness” if you will.  So here is to Frank…

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 2009

Frank

I interact with a wide variety of people every day. I see in them characteristics I aspire to embody, as well as qualities I pray will never be ascribed to me. These people occupy all levels of social totem poles, and I have quickly recognized that there is little to no correlation between “good” and “powerful” people. Moreover, I often recognize the opposite to be true…

Frank is a simple man. He cleans the bathrooms in the building where I work. His hands are worn and his eyes say that despite his smile he has seen many storms. I am just an analyst, and most individuals needn’t remember my name, since “new girl” is a sufficient identifier to which even I have learned to respond. But this is not the case with Frank. When we pass in the halls, he shakes my hand, and says my name. He never forgets. Sometimes, it is Frank who makes my day when I cannot make it on my own.

But is he powerful? Maybe that is more of a philosophical question, because it is hinged on ones perception of power. In the traditional sense, of course Frank is not a powerful man. He is not the CEO of the company, but the man who scrubs the toilet seats on which the CEO sits. But it is Frank, not the CEO who inspires me. In this regard, perhaps Frank among the powerful. He is the pebble that generates not ripples but waves. Frank inspires me, and because I have the resources and opportunity to succeed, when I succeed, Frank has made a mark. So often, the pebbles are overlooked because they have worn hands, stutters or limps. But pebbles cast, ripples make, and when receptive turn to tides.

I say all this, to endorse the sense of responsibility I feel, to myself, my family, my friends, and people like Frank. My task is not merely to succeed, but to be a good woman while doing it. Frank reminds me of this responsibility everyday when he shakes my hand and says my name...

Standards and Singledom

Today has been VERY stressful because I knew that I wanted to write something but I had far too many Pulitzer Prize winning ideas (e.g., the fact there are so many pickles in Brooklyn, FOMO (fear of missing out), equinox and the strange things that happen there). But all these little gems had to be put on hold due to a text image this morning from a close friend…

    (please forgive my poor job of erasing her name...)

We immediately engaged in a candid texual conversation:

Friend: Coworkers diagram of my dating expectations. Haha. He picked all of this up from my dating stories at work

Me: hahahahahahahaha. Omg I have to blog that…sorry

Friend: haha, he’s ridiculous. I’m offended because he might be right…

Me: I mean…

Friend: Jeeeeeezzzzz becca. You think?! Are they ridiculous? Might be why I’m still single…Ha

Me: I mean, it’s good they are “high” but what “high” really means is where we should focus. Are you evaluating men based on the right qualities or does “high” actually mean attractive douche bag?

Friend: Damn gurl. PREACH

I expect that there are several things you may have taken away from this conversation:

1.       I don’t respect my friends’ privacy

2.       I have retarded text conversations

3.       I use “haha” too much

So let me just say 1 is completely not true, 2 and 3 are spot on…

But I shared this particular exchange with you because I think it reveals one of the most perplexing crises of our generation, and maybe the pilgrims struggled with the same thing - I just don’t know. But our standards are completely warped. I cannot tell you how many of my friends have recently told me “he is just too nice” or “he is just too into me.” Meanwhile, “he is just not my type” or “I wish he was a little taller.” Ladies, let me tell you something, this is a recipe for disaster, DISASTER I TELL YOU. I don’t say this to be condescending, I struggle with the same complex, but I also feel that as of recent, I have stumbled across a few glimpses into what really matters.

So boys, men, and man-children let me tell you a couple real truth's about what flys and what makes you about as attractive as Marilyn Manson:

Dont’s:

1.       Spending more time getting ready than me

2.       Talking about your body

3.       Saying negative things about women in my presence

4.       Assuming I will go home with you when I meet you if you buy me enough drinks

5.       Using the following in a text: “Dude”, “Bro”, “Was up”, “Yo”

6.       Acting like you are the shiz to overcompensate for your insecurities

7.       Trying to look and act just like everyone else

8.       Telling me you are in finance. Or at least telling me and expecting I care

9.       Touching me before talking to me

10.   Acting like a bro

11.   Being loud and obnoxious because you think it’s actually attractive

12.   Acting like you are superior as a flirting tactic

Irrelevant

1.       Whether you have a 4, 6 or 8 pack

2.       Where you went to college

3.       Whether you were a sigma chi, a kappa sig or a sigma nothing

4.       What your parents do

5.       What social clubs you are a member of

6.       Where you summer

7.       How much money you make (as long as you are doing something you are passionate about and supporting yourself)

8.       Your neighborhood

9.       Who you last dated

Do’s/Important

1.       You respect yourself, and others

2.       You don’t judge before hearing the full story

3.       You smile, sincerely

4.       You are patient

5.       You like the fact I burst into spontaneous dance offs

6.       You embrace your flaws

7.       You accept the fact you aren't perfect, because you aren't

8.       You forgive yourself and others

9.       You like adventures and trying new things

10.   You are vulnerable

11.   You don’t overcompensate for your insecurities in unhealthy ways

12.   You never talk negatively about women

13.   You don’t brag about things to make yourself feel important

14.   There are so many more…

This is a stream of consciousness, so by no means is this pretty or complete. It also doesn't mean that I think I have it all together or can say that all of these important qualities even apply to me, but I want to get there. As I try to become a better person, I challenge myself to value the qualities in others that are truly valuable, not the ones that perpetuate a culture of disrespect and misguided standards. So maybe we can all take a step back and ask ourselves fulfilling our list of “prince charming criteria” is going to make us happy or just lonely.

Awkward turtle!

There are many things that make me happy: getting to the station right as the train pulls up, pizza, discovering I have the self-control (albeit very rarely) to say no to pizza, and not chipping or smudging my manicure within the first 30 minutes of leaving the salon (this actually never happens). However, there is one thing which is the obvious winner in this contest, and that my friends is awkwardness.

My opinion and relationship with awkwardness has been a bumfuzzled journey of self-discovery. When I was younger, I was awkward in every sense of the word. Today, my attempts at conformity have proven about as successful as bowling with mittens. Despite my efforts, I am actually more awkward today than ever. But now you ask yourself why would I want to change the one thing that makes me happiest, and what the hell does bumfuzzle mean? Let’s chat…

Bumfuzzle verb \¦bəm¦fəzəl\

Definition:

confuse; perplex; fluster

Example:

"Irish can bumfuzzle any team" – headline about the Notre Dame "Fighting Irish" football team, Chicago Tribune, October 27, 20

In short, it’s been a perplexing and sometimes painful journey. I remember how nervous I was my first day of “real school” after being homeschooled on the farm. Highschool can be a cruel place, especially if you dress like a slutty mom. I will spare you the horror of elaborating on my outfit, but let’s just say it was a “development opportunity” (if you struggle with a similar condition I encourage you to reference this site http://www.wisegeek.com/how-can-i-be-less-frumpy.htm). The moment I dove into my dad’s Avalon after that traumatizing day, I burst into tears. This ritual continued for about a year.

Today is a different story. I flex and make a Hulk face in the mirror of the women’s locker room at equinox as other women are judging one another’s bodies. Yes I do this in the nude. I will do a little jig at the bar and not deny my flaws. If you think I’m crazy, you are right, but I also have discovered a beautiful secret. We all are flawed, and not just a little bit. Objectively speaking, we all have about 100 annoying, embarrassing, criminal, disgusting or pathetic things about us. Moreover, most of us try to hide them, and let me tell you, it is exhausting.

I have adopted an alternative approach which might shock you. I have decided to embrace my flaws, and through doing so have realized that maybe they aren't as terrible as I anticipated. Yes this leads to many awkward moments but I am about as close to being the queen of England as I am to being perfect and I am OK with that. I’m not suggesting I am a complete train wreck but let’s say we go to dinner.  I am more likely to spill food on myself than not. While I’m not proud of my etiquette impairments, by making fun of myself and bringing humor to the table, it’s a game changer. I am not being laughed at, but laughed with and that is a good feeling. I think dad would be relieved to know I’m not going to cry on the way home today. 

Oops, I did it again....

I close friend recently told me that she had found a new motto for my life. My two thoughts were 1) how in the world do I still have friends and 2) wowwwww, this is creepy true...



And in spirit of candidness, I felt it appropriate to write about something on my mind this hott second, themes...

I feel like most of my weeks have themes. Last week’s theme was “oops.”

• Oops because I’m a hypochondriac I was and convinced myself I had throat cancer, despite having none of the symptoms besides being thirsty sometimes, which I recognize is not typically symbolic of a malady. My formal diagnoses ended being hypochondria and mild acid reflux, but only after I had my face numbed and a camera shoved up my nose and down my throat. Oops.
• Oops because I decided to enjoy a sunny day that also happened to be windy. The conversation and salad were fantastic, but I never had the opportunity to try the dressing because apparently Mother Nature decided to pour it all over my coat and dress. It was only when my skirt was hiked up around my waste and submerged in the women’s bathroom sink on the executive floor that two senior females in my company had the opportunity to not only witness my antics, but my exposed tush. Oops
• Oops because a new fabulous gay friend told me the only thing that would make my derby outfit more marvelous would be a “quick titty.” He explained that it is when a celebrity “accidently” exposes their breast to be fabulous. As serendipity would have it, my dress strap broke while dancing later that evening, but I think that may incident was a little more comparable to this…

  

Quadruple Oops....

For some reason I feel better after publicizing these minor incidents, and I am happy to report that this week has a different theme, carbohydrates. When I say that I ate half a birthday cake yesterday, I mean that I ate half a birthday cake, 2 chocolate almond croissants and French fries, and those were just my snack. Atkins is barking up the wrong tree because this girl is on a mission to eat ALL of the carbs on this island. 

As for next week, I’m hoping that my theme can be something like “Prince Harry wants to marry me” or “Beyoncé wants me to be a back-up dancer”, but if not, I will also settle for “good times with friends” or “I keep finding 20 dollar bills on the sidewalk”…

The Ongoing Quarter Life Crises

Several weeks ago a close friend of mine emailed me an excerpt from one of my old blogs (http://fortysixxx.blogspot.com/p/quarter-life-crises.html). As I read my candid opinions on entering into adulthood, I burst into laughter. Unfortunately this reaction was short lived and quickly replaced by that little emotional gremlin known as “horror.” If anyone saw my face, they would probably agree that I was working through a “you have got to be f***ing kidding me” moment. “What?” you ask could have been so disturbing about the words written by my 23 year old self?  EVERYTHING is what. The excerpt literally sounded like I wrote it yesterday: same complaints, same revelations, and same cynical attitude to mask the fact that the Sex and the City lifestyle I was banking on actually resembles some of the more uncomfortable episodes of Modern Family. In the words the famous philosopher Kanye West, “that shit cray.”

{Disclaimer: My intent was never to begin this most recent attempt at blogging with an emotional tirade, but as my father says, I am not emotionally unstable, just a little “emotionally unpredictable.”  So with this out of the way, I would like to share with you the “so what” of the aforementioned reaction...}

Several years ago, I made a terrible mistake; I fell in love with John Mayer. Unfortunately Jennifer won (at the time), but John left me marked by the lyrics of a song, “Why Georgia.” If you do not recall this catchy little tune, I’ll quickly give you the rundown. John is taking big risks, feeling confused about the potential outcomes of pursuing his dreams, doubting himself and labeling it all as a “quarter-life crises.” When I heard this song, I could not get the concept out of my head, and immediately attributed everything I was experiencing to this natural phenomenon of the early 20 something’s.

My error in all of this was thinking that the quarter life crisis was something I would overcome in a year, two at most…HA. My blog made two things clear 1) I have and always will have terrible grammar and 2) This quarter life crises is a chronic condition. As you can infer, this was not something I was initially very happy about (the chronic condition not the grammar – I have come to terms with that). There was a part of me that had assumed that by 26 I would be married with kids, a leadership role on the PTA and a timeshare in Palm Beach, but this is not how things turned out.

And Hallelujah for that!  

At this point you might be thinking I am bi-polar and I would encourage to revisit my disclaimer. Yes, when I first read my old blog I nearly scaled the conference room table, ripped open my gingham oxford and pounded my chest, king-kong style.  And yes, I only decided against this out of courtesy for my colleagues. But time proved kind, and I have realized that I am so happy that things did not turn out exactly how I had planned. Things have never been so exciting and ambiguous and for the first time in my life, I embrace having little to no idea what is going on.

So this blog is about exactly that: Being OK with not knowing all the answers, making the conscious decision to be vulnerable and let it all hang out (not in the slutty, but metaphorical sense), accepting that there are things I can’t control and nobody that I can. But most importantly, it is about choosing happiness. I do not know all the answers and in fact I don’t know many answers at all, but I have learned a lot, and want to continue to do so. I encourage you to stay tuned, if not to become enlightened (which I would advise against), for comic relief. Until next time, Tootles!

What business should and could be...