Toys and Goodies 🙂
Toys and Goodies 🙂
So there’s this boy… man? boy? I suppose he’s a 70-something manboy. Yup, that sounds pretty accurate.
I’ve briefly mentioned this old fart before. But his name is James Francis Bunker. And my relationship to him is that he’s my dad’s college roommate’s old boss. Sounds kinda like that Spaceballs scene doesn’t it…
Anyway, our mutual connection introduced us because Jim went to Northeastern and still plays an active role on campus. Turns out, he put in a good word for me.
And now? After a wonderful first lunch in February, we see each other whenever we happen to be within driving range of each other. And for the rest of the time, we email and talk and keep each other updated about the latest happenings in our lives (actually.. maybe it’s more about whats happening in MY life. Oops).
He’s a kook and takes every opportunity to make fun of me. But, at the same time, I’m not afraid to dish it back out. And in our teasing and mockery, we are able to communicate in our own language. To the outside world, we probably look like the silliest pair ever. But I don’t know… I just like this crazy old man. He’s lived quite a bit more than I have, but is happy to share his experiences and his wisdom and the best cafes in Paris.
This summer, I was SO blessed to meet his firecracker of a wife. Not only was she wise enough to con him into going to college when she was 14, but she’s put up with him ever since then. And knowing him, that deserves a ton of respect.
And through him (or those he knows), I’ve been able to meet some other people, too.
I called him this morning and suddenly came to the realization (albeit, belated) that this poor sucker is family. He, combined with the other Bostonians that I love, is the family that I’ve built for myself in my beloved city. No wonder it feels like home to me… I’ve got a crazy “uncle” and his wonderful wife, 80 sisters and countless treasured friends to keep me company.
Vanessa Carlton, in her song “Who’s to Say,” concludes that “sometimes family are the ones you choose.” Now, I’ve got one of the most incredible, dysfunctional-but-it-works-for-us families in the world. But it’s nice to know that I can build one for myself, too, compiled of people that I love and choose to love and who happen to love my city as much as I do. <3
I was sitting with my girlfriend the other day talking about relationships. We both find ourselves in healthy, simple relationships right now… None of the crazy lusty heartbreakinghappiness of infatuated relationships.
Let me preface by saying that I’m probably not the most trustworthy opinion on the relationship front; I have a habit of completely fucking things up. But I have had that crazy lusty love, the kind that gives you a stomach ache and makes you want to vomit all over the poor guy’s shoes. It immobilizing, yet possibly the most invigorating, alive feeling I’ve ever experienced. It’s an adrenaline all its own and it’s the scariest thing in the world.
If that works out for people, goodness take the opportunity. But I only ever seem to make those situations into complete messes. Which kind of got me thinking about the guy I’m dating now. We butt heads and compete relentlessly, we manage to get along with each other’s friends, we butt heads. We also butt heads. But for some reason, being with him is comfortable…Putting effort into debates and laughing about unimportant things is fun and I find that by not going head-over-heels, I am able to keep my grounding and I’m slightly guarded against the devastating, heating-up-and-falling-fast feeling of being broken by someone I was infatuated with.
I don’t mean to sound removed or heartless, but maybe it’s better to be with someone who is compatible than to be with someone who drives you crazy (in every sense of the word).
I mean, maybe that’s why second marriages are often so much more successful; both parties go in with a knowledge of each other and of the others flaws and strengths. It’s more about making a compatible, healthy life together than it is about following our lusty wiles. Maybe it’s called “young love” for a reason… because it’s a love wrought with naivety and immature notions of compatibility.
But when it comes down to compatibility or craziness, does choosing the former mean I’ve lost my sense of romanticism? Or am I leaving childish notions behind and embracing a life of a lot less heartbreak? Wouldn’t that be nice…
Alright, I know I’m about 15 years behind on the whole Ally McBeal thing, but I must say… she’s amazing. And I’m addicted.
Ally is a complete freak! She’s funny and awkward and neurotic and psychoanalyzes every minute Freudian slip. She gets caught up in the moment and she changes her mind on a dime.
“She” is me.
Anyway, there’s this one character, John Cage–nickname Biscuit–who is a senior partner at Ally’s firm and has some interesting tactics. He’s a character, to put it nicely 🙂 But he’s also a genius. Anyway, I really liked one of his quotes. I’m a sucker for romance and it was just… hopeful, I guess.
“The world is no longer a romantic place.
But some of its people still are, however.
And therein lies the promise…
Don’t let the world win.”
For some reason, I was writing last night and the phrase “shades of you” came to mind. I liked it, so I ran with it. Twice.
Shades of You (v.1)
Shades of you,
Lackluster faux-mances without the inside jokes and comfortable silences.
Poor perfects don’t stand a chance against your unkempt mess of a personality.
The way you try to use your psych talk to analyze me.
You kept quiet but I had to brain barf all over Tyler’s shoes.
I can hide 3,000 miles away,
But my 2am insomnia misses you.
Shades of You (v.2)
You loved me,
I caught on a little late.
I told you you were smarter than I.
As usual, time wasn’t on my side.
Impromptu drivebys turned to awkward mornings.
Life’s not a romantic comedy…
No climactic music and kissing scenes.
I used to think that putting “us” off,
Meant that I was in control.
I’m such a control freak.
I’m trying for “hopeful” romantic,
Even if it’s a challenge
He’s great, you know.
He gives me a headache.
And his hair…
And he kisses my head like I know you would.
If you would.
(Gosh, I hate that word)
But shades of you,
Will never shine quite as bright.
For what it’s worth,
I still love you.
Happy Birthday, Bapi <3 And thanks for the memories. Now the list… In no particular order, I love you because….
That doesn’t possibly come close to being a comprehensive list. But I love you. Always and forever. Just like we said.
Happy Birthday! And here’s to a wonderful 50 years. May the next 50 be full of travel and adventure and mornings on the couch 🙂
So… in Harry Potter, there’s this super powerful love potion (Amortentia) that smells different to every person depending on what they like.
It’s similar to Sebold’s description of heaven in The Lovely Bones.
Anyway, ever think about what your potion/heaven would smell like?
Mine would be… jasmine flowers and Love Spell perfume and conditioner and Old Spice and salt air and sunscreen and green tea and the waxy lipstick smell. All that mixed with books. And by books I mean the fresh crack, ink-and-paper, new book smell, as well as the musky, moldy, has-a-life-story smell of old books. Both are so intoxicating-ly delicious.
Like I said… random thought.