Tuesday, June 30, 2009

My Tribute to JM...I Mean MJ

Many of you know my former creative partner Josh, (I hate saying former, but whatever, not getting hung up on that). In fact, if you don’t read him, you should be: http://justbeingjosh.com/. He is much more entertaining than I am. I write for therapy, he writes because that is what he was born to do. I have always wanted to write, and maybe even needed to write, but there is only one reason I do it today: Josh taught me how. I still ramble too much, and my structure is weak, but at least I get my ideas out and I make sense. He was the perfect editor: he nursed my ego at the beginning, held my hand as I struggled, and then as I grew in confidence he hacked my stuff up. We were great together. I have written a lot of garbage, but every once in a while I stumble upon a good vein and feel that I have contributed something new and creative to the world. I can live with that.

Stay with me, I have a point. Our radio show was my time to shine. That show is probably the least significant thing I have ever loved. When that On Air light came on, I was a different person. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but I was good. Josh was the perfect co-host. He knew exactly what he was doing; did 90% of the work and I got too much credit. I was lost without him, and he never cared. He was a great producer, and he would just set me up all day long. Our ‘success’ was based on one simple premise: ‘Don’t follow the crowd’. If everyone was talking about something, we stayed away from it. We were nobodies, and there wasn’t a soul in the world (outside maybe blood relatives and few girls) who cared about our perspective when everyone and their mom was giving theirs. So we kept if fresh, and quick, and new. We wanted to tell our audience about something they wouldn’t find unless the tuned into our show. And it worked. We were different and it was something that people wanted to hear. (See my March 17, 2008 blog for the end of that era).

Today, I had to ask Josh for permission to break the code. I just have to write something about Michael. I was writing all the time, and then Michael died and it has affected me in a way I was not expecting. He granted me permission.

First of all, the fact that a famous person died does not really matter. His value as a human being is no more valuable than any other person, and so many people die every day. There are 2 American journalists in prison in North Korea as we speak. If they die I will actually be sad. That would be unjust and wrong. Iranian protesters dying over election results effects me emotionally. I feel for them. It makes me appreciate the freedoms we enjoy. That is real life, and real loss. This is not about a warped perception of the value of life.

It is also not about celebrity. I remember when Princess Diana died. Billions of people cared, and I wasn’t one of them. I cared much more about Chris Farley’s death, and that was only because he wouldn’t be making anymore movies. But something about Michael’s passing just stuck with me. I found myself on BET, and MTV, and VH1 whenever I had down time this weekend. Prior to that, I didn’t even know the channel numbers of those stations. I am no longer in their demographic. And I guess that is the point. When Michael died, a little piece of my childhood died too. That sounds so over-the-top as I read what I just said, but I can’t come up with another way to phrase it.

I was the perfectly-isolated-from-anything-bad kid. I was homeschooled and I went to a very conservative church. Every single one of my friends were homeschooled and went to that church. Even the good Christian kids that went to my church but also public school seemed wild and dangerous to me. I played in a Christian sports league, and I loved it. I was not rebellious about it at all. I was perfectly happy in this world. I rode my bike, played outside til it was dark, and was always happy. We didn’t have a TV, and when we did I watched Gospel Bill, and Little House on the Prairie. One time, I was at a birthday party and they watched He-Man. I knew I was not allowed to watch it, but I did anyways. I didn’t even want to, and it was very stressful, but I didn’t want to be alone either. They next day I was so sick, and I just knew God was punishing me. I vowed never to do anything bad again.

I loved Carmen. I went to his concerts, and thought he was awesome. I went to see Phil Driscol and Twila Paris. I listened to Sandi Patti, Amy Grant, Steven Curtis Chapmen, Michael W. Smith. And Michael Jackson. I owned all Christian music. I had the t-shirts, the movies, the magazines. There was nothing about me that was cool, hip, or trendy. And I had no interest in trying to be any of that (not that I even knew what that would be). All of my friends were the same way as me. As far as I was concerned I was normal. I played with Leggos, GI Joes, Transformers, and Construx. And I listened to the “Bad” album a million times.

All weekend during these tributes they talked about his cross-over style. He appealed to black and white, young and old. Rockers, rappers, dancers, R&B. Didn’t matter, everyone loved Michael. Even completely, perfectly naïve little Christian homeschooled white boys who listened to Carmen. I remember someone teaching me the F-word. I remember someone teaching me about the middle finger. I had no idea what sex was until I was told. The concept of a condom completely confused me. Nobody ever told me about Michael Jackson. He just was. And now he is gone.

I guess that is the crux of it. I’m all grown up now. Just last Saturday I heard the 1 millionth, “You were homeschooled?!? You seem so….well-adjusted.” It’s always the same quote: “well-adjusted.” I just laugh now. Sometimes, just for fun, I’ll just say it for them. I guess my innocence died a long time ago, but with the passing of Michael, I feel like the last thing that connected me to that kid is gone. I’m not sure how relevant Michael was now anyways, he was pretty much just a freak show I guess. But to me, he was still that memorizing star that owned the stage, or the music video, or the song. No one will ever be as big as he was. There is too much other stuff going on. Plus, anyone like him would feel ‘produced’ or ‘manufactured’. He was organic (relatively), when something organic could become something huge. I didn’t like him because we was popular. I liked him because everyone did, but not because it was the thing to do. It was just that simple: everyone did.

So lump me into the cliché’ “a little piece of me died” group. But now I can move on. Maybe it was fitting really. The past year and a half has been about moving on from my Peter Pan complex (or ‘extended adolescence’ as the shrinks like to call it). The women in my life had no idea just how accurate their claims of “grow up” actually were. But I did grow up. Not sure how ‘manly’ I feel, but I certainly don’t feel boyish. I have changed and I am a different person. Now the kid in me has to accept that the pop star that defined pop culture for me is dead. ‘Neverland’ is gone, and even when it was still here it was pretty creepy. So long Michael. You were probably the weirdest 50-yr old in history. I’m glad I grew up before I hit 30.

I know what you are thinking. Leave it to me to make the passing of a global icon worshiped by billions of people all about me. It’s OK. Josh said I could, and he is man who knows about such things.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Five Random Things

Some random things to comment on that either did not deserve a full blog, or I lacked the time/creativity/intelligence to expound upon.

1. One of my main goals on my last trip home was getting Jacob and Benji hooked on Mad Men. We watched S1E1 on my last night in town, and the rest is history. Season 3 starts August 16th. If you catch up now, you can be cool. If you wait any longer, you will have to choose between being a poser or a loser and you will hate yourself. Season 1 can be obtained on Netflix. Season 2 will be officially released on July 14th but you can get most episodes online if you are smart like me, and all the episodes if you know someone smart like Dave. I will be writing a full Mad Men blog soon, and I am even thinking about returning to my blogging roots with weekly episode reviews.

2. Since I have been blogging again, my Twitter obsession has wained. I only have so much creative juice, and I like my tweets to be somewhat interesting or newsworthy (relatively speaking of course). I have found myself drifting back to facebook more as well. Do you care? I doubt it. I know this and I still say it. That tells you a lot about me.

3. I talked earlier this week about counting to five. I also bragged about how well my routine had worked the past few months. Of course this led to me getting cocky, which led to me not counting every time, which led to me losing my glasses. The lesson? Not sure there is one.

4. I am never one to be concerned with the state of the world, but N Korea has threatened to nuke us if we mess with that sketchy ship of theirs we have been following. I can't help but feel like another Korean War is possible. I am following the Iranian election very closely, but I am bordering on obsessed with Korea. I just remembered I spent a month or so last summer studying the Korean War, so maybe that is why.

5. I have no idea why that Gov Sanford story interested me in the first place, but talk about a pay-off. I am usually not interested in those kind of stories, but for some reason I found myself wondering where this dude disappeared to. The writing in Appalachia just didn't sound right. But Argentinian mistress? You can't make this stuff up.

That's all for now. Off to work. "OK Computer" was today's album de jour. Some days you just don't want to be let down.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

10 Dating Tips From the Mind of Middle Schooler

"Your life will not end alone"

That was the subject line of an e-mail I received yesterday. It was written by a 13-yr old friend of mine, and it is an encouragement to single women who are looking for love. It is hilarious, insightful, naive, and so very true all at the same time. I laughed and laughed and laughed. I hope you do the same. This kid knows what's up.

To borrow a phrase from Beyonce' 'All you single ladies...get yo hands up' cause this one's for you:

'You have nothing to worry about until your like 35+. I'm sure tons of your friends love you and want to go out with you. E Harmony is a scam for people to find their true love even though its as fake as this government. You have a ton of time to find the right person that God made for you to love and live with forever until you die. So don't freak out or get upset because you will find him one day.

1) Ask your friends if they have single friends
2) Don't be afraid to venture out and meet people
3) When you're out on a date just act like yourself and don't act like you're desperate for love
4) Don't be mean to make them scared of you
5) Tell him a joke or two and see if he laughs (If he doesn't it probably means he has no sense of humor)
6) Don't act like your bored. If you are, just show him your always in a good mood even you aren't
7) E Harmony is for older people. I don't want you to find a man that's 35 on there and go out with him......that's just creepy
8) Watch what you say and make sure its not stupid
9) Don't SAY ANYTHING about your EX BOYFRIENDS cause that's just weird. Wait until like the 4th date
10) Don't join any dating services because there fake.'

--------------------------

I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.

Keeping up with this week's theme, this morning was sponsored by The Working Title's "Everyone Here Is Wrong"

Happy Humpday

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Update to Yesterday's Blog

So, of course the next time I listen to 'Lost' it is painfully obvious that Buble is talking about a girl he had a previous relationship with, not sure how it ended, she goes through a traumatic experience, he will always be there for her.

Basically it could have been the theme song for Jennifer Aniston and Ben Affleck's relationship in 'He's Just Not That Into You'. You know that 'Friends' scene where it's raining and 'With or Without You' is playing? Just insert that scene into that movie, only Ross is Ben Affleck, and 'Lost' is playing. Actually they really should have done that. Somehow this realization takes some of the fun out of the song. This is why I believe what a song means to ME is oftentimes more important that what the artist meant.

Needless to say, I haven't listened to 'Lost' since. My Lady Gaga bender over the weekend has me set for a while, and somehow admitting publicly my love of Kings of Leon has made me insecure about them at the moment. So this morning I needed to change it up, and as i flipped through my iPod at 6am I was drawn to Silverchair's "Young Modern", a fun album that you will remember for the hit single 'Straight Lines' but reminded me of 'Winter Meltdown '07' at the TED. We went for Jimmy Eat World, but Silverchair was a nice bonus. Another reason I love music. Without Silverchair I would totally have forgotten this story; I already have too many J.E.W. memories.

That night pretty much sums up my relationship with Aaron: terrifying and awesome.

Terrifying: Being hit on by two girls (during Silverchair) who:

Claimed to go to: Longwood
Actually went to: Tallwoood

Big difference. Needless to say, I've been IDing ever since. Fortunately Aaron and I decided to sneak into VIP (a few bands latter b/c we wanted a better view for J.E.W.) which led to:

Awesome: Crashing a VIP room and becoming best friends in 30 seconds with some random dude who is having a birthday party. This led to his uptight sister spending 30 minutes trying to kick us out before he kicked her out. Don't mess w Paulie Walnuts and the Beast when we have our A-game on. (We got Sam and Noelle in too, and we all rocked out from the best seats at the TED).

Monday, June 22, 2009

Why Does My Routine Like Michael Buble?

I moved to Atlanta at the end of January; my first day at work was 8 days after I received my offer. Even as I transitioned into my mature, adult life, it was still flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants crazy. This was either extremely fitting or entirely necessary, but either way I loved it and it worked. I moved into my apartment in February, my brother helped me move some stuff down later that month, and by the time I returned from my 30th birthday party in March, I had acquired a bed, some dishes, and some furniture. A used couch and sweet TV (I rationalized that purchase somehow, but I won’t bore you with those details), would soon follow. Now that I was finally ‘settled’, it was time for a routine. The longer you have known me, the better you understand the mental exercise it takes for me to get through a day; the more I can reduce menial tasks to auto-pilot the better.

My routine consists of two basic tenants: music and counting. The first thing I do when I wake up is walk from my bed to my stereo in the living room (I have a tiny place; this is 12 steps). I have already selected the music during the 30-60 minutes I lay in bed doing 3 things: thinking about the previous day, figuring out what today looks like, and talking to God. There is no rhyme or reason to which of those activities get the most time. I let my brain wander, I am at my happiest in the morning. Great days are even better, and terrible days are OK as long as I am there. I will never be closer to God than at the beginning of my day. Everything will be OK, and that is enough for me.

So I select my music, and it fills my apartment (more on the actual selections in a minute). Then I brush my teeth, step on the scale, and get ready for work. I usually eat cereal, but sometimes if I am in a hurry I’ll do a pop tart. Then I look at my list of things to do and make sure I am in order. I take my iPod and put in the earphones and unplug it from my stereo; the music flow is un-interrupted.

Then I count to 5. I will count to 5 many more time today. I need 5 things on a work day, 4 on a weekday or if I go out. They are phone (most important), wallet, keys, glasses, and badge. Since I have started working, I have yet to go to work without these 5 things. You know why? I always count to 5. Every time I leave one place for another, I count to 5. Even if I need to remember to take my green portfolio (which I do almost every day), I only grab that after I count to 5. Portfolio and iPod are luxury items. I can’t risk the system on luxury items. Plus the important thing about 5 is it counts 5 specific things. Sometimes I leave my portfolio in the car. Sometimes my iPod is in my portfolio if I go out right after work. I don’t need variables, I need a system. And it never changes. I have been counting to 5 (or 4 on weekends b/c I don’t need my badge) for 4 months, and it has not let me down.

My old shrink was a fan of systems. According to her, the key to managing my life was to do a better job controlling the things I could control. The theory being, if I didn’t have to stress about losing my keys, trying to understand my mother’s behavior would be less frustrating. I think she was right. Of course the key with systems is to not obsess about them. That’s why I am writing about this one. It works for me, but I don’t love it. It provides some level of functionality, but I don’t need it. Some years ago, I had a little fun with some OCD behavior. That got a little crazy. To recap, it’s all about balance.

I can tell you this, it is quite fun being obsessive AND whatever you call someone with similar behavior to ADHD (I took that test and it was bullshit, plus if you are dating the counselor and she’s trying to prove you’re crazy, isn’t that a conflict of interest or something?) Let’s just say the voices inside my head are always having a great time. You think you can’t obsess and be easily distracted at the same time. Ha. Just keep reading.

So we are almost 800 words in and I am just getting to the point of this blog. This is precisely why I will never be a great writer. I can never just get to the point. I would feel naked if I just started talking about the music. Everything else in my routine is so tied into the music. Oh well, I don’t write to be read, I write to write. Carrying on (probably alone by this point).

Since I have been in Atlanta, I have been surprised at the music I have chosen to take me to work. At night when I am home, my musical taste returns to the norm, and make s a lot of sense. But the morning has been dominated by 3 albums: Lady Gaga’s “The Fame”, Michael Buble’s “Call Me Irresponsible”, and Kings of Leon “Only By the Night”. Of the 100 or so days I have worked thus far, I would say 75-85 have been represented by 1 of those 3. And that is only so ‘low’ because Band of Horses got a significant run leading up to their show, (although I listened to “Cease to Begin” 10 times more than “Everything All the Time”).

When I get home at night its back to normal: Arcade Fire, The Format, Death Cab, The Killers, Santagold, Black Eyed Peas, Prince, and even ‘cough’ O.A.R. You know, the usuals. I got into the Essex Green, I rediscovered OK Go, and I tried out some Paul Simon (enjoyed it). I have listened to all of the Radiohead records in order at least 3 times, and compared “The Joshua Tree” to “Achtung Baby” twice. You get the point. But why gives with my morning music?

Well, first of all, the album has several jobs. It has to be inspiring as it is the first thing I do after I get up. Get me through the teeth brushing, getting ready for work, and breakfast. Then, it has to last for a 10 minute drive to my parking spot. Finally, it needs to provide the soundtrack for my ‘big girl in the big city’ walk through downtown and to my office. This is a tall order. I love my mornings, and for some reason those 3 albums do it for me.

Lady Gaga is easy. She satisfies my not-so-secret love of pop music in a very special way. I was too young for Madonna, too old for Brittany, and too musically insecure for anyone else before or after (like Fergie whose album I acquired in secret after the fact). Now that I have embraced my love of Journey, Billy Joel, and Taylor Swift, I am free to rock out to the over-produced sounds of a certifiably insane chick whose particular style of sold-out-to-the-masses pop styling appeals to me in a very real way. Until now, I have never owned a truly ‘pop’ record during the 15 minutes it was at all relevant. I kinda want to put her poster on my wall. In a very weird way, listening to Lady Gaga is a very real form of self-acceptance. No I am not rationalizing. I really meant that in a completely unironic way (thank you Chuck Klosterman).

Kings of Leon? If you don’t know me, they make sense. If you do, then you would understand that they are in that perfect range of cliché-cool that I avoid. Lady Gaga is so pop that no one would confuse my love of her with an attempt to be cool. Kings of Leon is the type of band that people with no musical taste can latch on to. I may never be cool, but I try very hard not to look like someone who is trying to be cool. Kings of Leon is also the type of band that people with amazing musical taste will dismiss out of hand because of the aforementioned reasons. They are very ‘hate-able’. Being that I am not a music snob, but at times can be found is such circles, I try to avoid hate-able bands, lest I be marginalized to the point that I am crying in the corner trying to explain the significance of “Kid A” relative to other rock bands who could never escape their previous success. Bottom line: I just really, really like “Only By the Night” that much, and that’s that. And it works great for my morning.

Funny enough, this blog was supposed to be about Michael Buble. In fact, that is why I am not changing the title of this one. I don’t write blogs, they write me. What’s the significance of Buble (other than his entirely odd inclusion into my morning music of course)? Well, the point of my morning music is that I like to getthrough an entire album. I am an album guy in general. When I listen to albums I often skip the radio songs I am tired of. Occasionally I’ll give Lady Gaga’s ‘Paparazzi’ a double spin if I am particularly in the mood, but I rarely ever repeat songs. Except with “Call me Irresponsible”. Track 6 is a song called “Lost” and every time I get to that I repeat it over and over and over again. Just this morning I listened to it 6 times in a row. Needless to say I rarely finish the album by the time I get to work.

You would think that after some 100+ listens I would know the song backwards and forwards. Fact is, I don’t actually know what it means. I am sure it is entirely simplistic lyrically. I just love each individual part; I never put the whole song together into a complete thought. That, and when I listen, I don’t know if I am the singer or the listener. The first verse is obviously about a break-up of some sort, and the chorus is most certainly about being together. In fact, Buble is quite clear that, ‘baby you’re not lost’ throughout the entire song.

I think it is his confidence that gets me. He is quite certain that everything is going to be OK. Certain enough that he can most assuredly convince another individual that he is so put together, than she has nothing to worry about. In fact, not only can he say that she is not lost (presumably as long as he is around), but in the unlikely event she does get lost, ‘then we’ll get lost together’. Even being lost is reassuring. And that’s why I don’t exactly know what the entire song is about. By the second verse I completely distracted by my own thoughts and I am so inspired by his confidence that I’m not even sure he wants to get back together. For all I know he is just letting her know what she is missing and he is just a huge tool.

And as he whispers his final ‘so baby you’re not looooost’ ba-da-di-da-da…I hit repeat to try and figure it out this time. And I never do. So I decided today that I would write about it. And it took me almost 2,000 words, just to not make a point. Funny thing is, I wrote a different blog on Saturday, and decided I would wait to post it because I didn’t know exactly where it was going. Figured I’d just throw up a short-quick one to get the week started. I’m so lost.

Friday, June 19, 2009

A Moment of Truth

A famous monk once said, "I don't always know what the right thing to do is, my Lord, but I think that the fact that I want to please you, pleases you."

Maybe I am over-simplifying things, but that statement really resonates with me. You know those times when someone perfectly articulates something that has been percolating in your brain for some time? This is one of those times. I have talked around this issue for the past few months, not ever knowing exactly what I was trying to say. Can it really be so simple?

If the last 30 years of my life have been a crazy journey; and the past decade a wild, flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants ride; then the past 12 months have been “let’s hop in the car and just go; all I need is a map”. It’s been a little random, and a lot of fun, but I have an idea of where I am headed, and I am not going back. I’ve always known the map was there, but I was too afraid, and too stubborn to trust it completely. As long as I didn’t depend on the map, I could only be held so responsible for the roads I ended up on. I needed to try it on my own.

Well I need God. Plain and simple. I am in the midst of the longest depression-free streak of my post-adolescent life, and I do not think it is a coincidence that my dependence on my own abilities has taken a backseat to following the peace of God. For you atheists out there, I am perfectly content to say that I am an unenlightened individual with inferior genetic material, which requires the invention of a god to release the brain chemicals necessary for my sanity. Theological debate is not what this is about. This is about my happiness. I am happy. I don’t remember the last time I was unhappy.

So where does that quote fit in you ask? Well, I am trying to figure out God. Is He simple or complicated? Is the Bible a common man’s book, or a scholarly puzzle that the world’s greatest minds cannot crack? OK, those are the grand questions. What about the easy ones?

What are we supposed to pursue? Happiness? Wealth? Power? Success?

In church they say give and be blessed. They say treat others well and you will be treated well. No matter what, always have a good attitude. It really boils down to, ‘if you do what we say and follow the right path, you will have a good life’. One can only assume that having a good life is being happy. (Don’t want to digress into church-bash either. I know, you know, we all know. I am digging at something fresh and new today).

God made me. God made me to take care of my own interests. Also, I know the world as a whole (and me in it) are better if we all pitch on some things. If I steal your shit, and you steal my shit, we waste a lot of times and energy trying to protect our shit. So we agree to not steal. Social contracts. You get the point. So morality, if you will, is still self-serving. It is good for me to be moral, because if everyone is morale my life is better than if no one is moral. (Again, we all know how game theories works, those who take advantage of other playing can win, but let’s keep this simple).

So what’s my point? My point is God made me. God made me to live for a higher purpose, but also to work to achieve happiness, joy, peace, love, etc in this life. Selfishness gone too far leads to unhappiness. But to pretend that my own self-interests are irrelevant is hopelessly naïve.

Drink too much. Get a hangover. Sleep with your bff’s gf. Destroy your liver. Die alone.

Go out with your friends after work. Advance your career. Increase your social circle. Enhance your life.

Balance right? Of course, we get that. Easy stuff. But maybe everything isn’t so complex as we make it. Maybe things are that simple. Maybe life is about achieving balance (since achieving perfection is unrealistic). And maybe we have missed something. In all that guilt and judgment, did we subconsciously decide that happiness is not the goal? Are we chasing something that is unattainable, even if we could define it?

So I postulate this: live to maximize happiness. Short, medium and long-term. Short-term happiness cannot replace long-term happiness. That is balance part. Extreme example: hedonism is unsustainable. For me at least. I hate guilt. I have lived my life to eradicate guilt. Conversely, you can't kill yourself your whole life to make something of yourself one day. You gotta enjoy the ride. So no destroying yourself in the short-term for the long-term pay-off either. Balance.

God made me. He has to take some responsibility for that. Why would he make me in such a way that my primary functions and motivations are self-serving? And if His plan for my life is that I deny every natural impulse I have in order to somehow prove my love for Him, then He should have explained it better.

There is a larger point that I wanted to get into but I am out of time. Technology, innovation, creativity. God made us that way. There must be a lot of good in there. Maybe I’ll get to Part II some other time, but I wanted to mention it as least so you can further understand the God’s design part. If God’s plan was ‘the simple life’ why give us the desire to expand?

So God, you know I love You. And I am trying really hard to figure out what it is that you want from me. I am really happy, and I know that is because you allowed me to fail a million times and still love me no matter what. And I know that I am lazy, and maybe I am just looking for the easy way out. But just hear me out. Maybe I am totally wrong, but you know me. I have to try and figure You out as impossible as that is. Can you just accept that I want to please you? Cause that would be great. Thanks. You rock.

(p.s. Thanks for giving me peace whenever I need it. It feels good to want to live).

You're Only as Strong as This Week's Links

Stuff I read this week that I would want someone to send me if I had not found on my own:

The awesomeness of Albert Pujols:
http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/columns/story?columnist=kurkjian_tim&id=4271518.

Music and matters of the heart:
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/thelife/news/story?id=4222398

Intellectual stimulation:
http://www.gladwell.com/2009/2009_05_11_a_david.html

Is this really happening? N Korean-US clash
http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2009/06/19/military-set-intercept-north-korean-ship-suspected-proliferatin-missiles-nukes/

Sunday, June 14, 2009

My Letter of Recommendation from Rach:

I saw Rach this weekend, and I remembered the letter I made her write because no one believed my story on how we ended. A few of you have read it, but for the rest of you here it is. While it is true that I knew it was not going to work out, and talked to most of you about that, here is proof that I actually tried, and I was not the first one to bail. She is way happy now that she is dating someone she actually likes, and I am way happy NOT dating someone that I could not have romantic feelings towards. So HA, I was right, and I am not a serial-runner, or game-player, or only-in-it-for-the-chase. Any girl that bails on Kai's birthday party has no room for me, and I think that is a perfectly valid reason to have 'the talk'. So here it is, the ex-gf recommendation letter:

"Dear Jessie, Sam, Noelle, Josh, Summer, Em, Dave? Kevin? I'm not sure which of Paul's friends are giving him a hard time about our recent breakup. I'm guessing Aaron is celebrating. :)

Anyway, I will be surprised if Paul actually sends this to anyone, but glad if he does. Paul is a great guy as we all know, and did nothing wrong in our relationship, so therefore deserves to have the record set straight. My guess is that some may think Paul sabotaged the relationship, maybe because he got scared of getting too close, or that things started getting hard, so he bailed, or that he just didn't put forth an effort to pursue me. But, I am writing to say that none of those things are true. Paul was a great boyfriend. He was patient, understanding, and most definitely pursued me through my walled and maze-like heart. So why would I break up with him? I asked myself that for a while since we got along well had fun together etc etc.

At the end of the day though, something just didn't sit well with me...maybe I'm still just too restless and want to save the world and move overseas...maybe I have "issues"....maybe we're just two great individuals who were okay matches but not ideal. Whatever the case, I have no regrets. I'm proud of Paul and grateful for his efforts to face his fears or "commitment issues" (or whatever you want to call them) as we did grow closer together; he was patient with me as I also worked through my junk as well. He made me feel special, cared for, and appreciated. Paul did everything he was capable of. I'm grateful he didn't put on a show and try to win me over by trying to be someone he thought I would want or anything of that nature. He was always honest and true to himself and for that I am very grateful. I want to thank all of you for being so great to me while I was around. I truly did enjoy the time spent with and getting to know you, and am glad Paul has such quality friends.

Please take care of and encourage him. So in closing Paul was a stellar boyfriend; blame our relationship's end on me. I would write a letter of recommendation for him to future girls! I only hope he continues to choose girls that are actually interesting to him that he likes...and are near his own age! ;)

Thanks for listening...and remember...blame me , not him! :)

Rachel"