Harvest Moon

There was a great big harvest moon out tonight. As I was driving home I saw it, and it struck me. It was so sharp, so crisp, and then it ducked behind the trees.

As I drove, it kept being interrupted by trees, or buildings, or even neon signs that overpowered it and completely destroyed its beauty. It would always reappear though, even if just for an instant. Eventually, it rose above these distractions, and I could see it for the elegant force that it was.

It came to me then- I am that moon. Maybe it is a tired and cliche metaphor, but I'm at a point in my life, that I keep getting covered up. I am shadowed or allow myself to be overtaken by boys, or jobs that I don't want, or paths that aren't really me, all the while believing that I am back there, somewhere- waiting to be seen.

I know I will persevere. I heard once that harvest moons seem so large due to the points of reference near the ground. The trees make it seem bigger, they shape it. Right now I'm being shaped by the distractions, but it was so clear, and such a relief, to know that soon enough, I will rise above and be what I really am.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

When I was young, my family and I went on a white water rafting trip. Our guide was a talented, tanned, young woman who could probably could have bench pressed my father. There was a moment when we were all floating outside of the boat except my dad, and the raft started to drift in the wrong direction. The guide had to swim upstream to help him steer, and the image of her doing the butterfly stroke against the strongest current I'd ever felt is an image that will stay with me for the rest of my life. She was so strong! I tried to turn and swim, and I wasn't even staying in one place. She managed to beat the current, return to the boat and save the day.

In a nutshell, she is my hero. I want to be able to beat that current. I want to be that strong.

Unfortunately, I'm not. My life is the current, and I can barely stay afloat.

This boy I'm seeing, I know how bad he is for me. All my women's studies training is screaming in my ear to leave, but I keep trying to fix him. I keep thinking if I just give enough, he'll stop needing. I give him my most powerful butterfly stroke (a rose at the airport when he arrives, little surprises at work...) and yet all I'm able to do is stay still. The moment I stop swimming, I'm rushed downstream. The first slip in affection, and he turns back into the insecure ball of lint from before.

I'm swimming towards the goal of a life of travel. I'm so close, sometimes I'll catch a good upstroke like Nicaragua, and yet, I'm still not there. What are the types of jobs that will let me move to a new place every six months, pay the bills and get me work visas? Hotel management for a large firm? Pilot? Mail order bride?

I swim towards happiness. Some elusive elation is in my raft and I know if I just swim hard enough, if I just master my efforts, I can get there. Either that, or I should just let go and enjoy the lazy river of life. How bad could the rapids ahead be? Hmm. They could be really bad. If I stop trying, I might end up living in my dad's basement in the same town I grew up in, working for the same pizza place as I did in college. In the end, I just keep swimming- I'll get there.

To Kill or to Chill?

First thing's first- salsa dancing is hard. Zuma is like salsa on meth. Therefore, Zuma class followed by a night of salsa dancing is a bad plan, but a great work out- just a little FYI.

Moving on, I've been wondering all morning, what's the difference between being a doormat and being easy going? I think it might have something to do with letting things go that you can't change (thanks serenity prayer) but I'm having trouble walking the line between the two options.

My inquiry is sparked by two things. First, I'm in line for a new contract at the school I work at. I know what I want: to be English coordinator for the middle school and I have a certain number in mind for my salary. With these two things, I will sign a contract to stay for next year. If not, I'm going to have to seriously think about it. But do I go to them and say- 'this is what I want'? Or do I wait for them to offer and then counter with what I'm looking for? Who knows, they might have a way higher number in mind... or way lower. So do I sit back and wait or actively push my own agenda?

Secondly, I'm currently in a relationship. The ex of the guy keeps popping into the picture. They have a good relationship, and I'm all for being friends with ex's. I'm putting on the "chill girlfriend" front, repressing any jealousy or urges to scream, "If she calls you again, I'll shank a

hoe!", because, you know, that would not be very chill. So last night he gets a call from her at 5 am. I hear her tell him she's outside and ask if he's busy... (this is the part where I am trying my hardest not to grab the phone or better yet, walk outside) Like a good boy, he tells her he's happily asleep with the girlfriend he loves and she hangs up. The whole thing seems very sketchy. So what is my plan of action here readers? Is it a doormat move to let him handle it? Would it look bad for me to politely ask her to stop such tomfoolery? (Ask her with my fists? I mean....)

I know I'm in charge of my own life, making my own destiny. But at what point should I bulldoze my way to my own goals and when should I allow life to offer me what it has to give? Hmm.

Do you have egg cartons in your ears?

I'll start by saying that things with the surfer are done. I know, we're all shocked. When he asked me to move in, I started to think we were on different wavelengths. I actually studied the physics of sound and music in college (so I didn't have to take chemistry) and wavelengths are exactly what went wrong with this guy. In physics, waves of sound will keep bouncing around as long as they find good bouncing surfaces. (Very technical, I know) That's why in sound studios, the walls have bumpy surfaces, to trap the waves and stop them from traveling back around the room. There was no way the waves I was putting out were coming anywhere near this guy's comprehension. He must have had very bumpy ear drums.

I would say, "Let's take this slow", and he would whisper"Te quiero" (I love you).

I would say, "Maybe we should take the weekend off to think about things", and he would hear "I really want you to text me 3 times a day about how much you miss me".

Me- "It's not working out. I'm overwhelmed with how much you like me."

Him- "But I love you!".

Etcetera.

Finally, I said, "Maybe we can be friends, but that's all. Do You Understand? Say it back to me." It seemed to get through- kind of.

The crappy part of breaking things off early in a relationship is that the beginning is when people do most of their fantastical planning. I really hoped that we would surf every morning at 5 am, and I would get super ripped and become and amazing surfer chick, and suddenly become a morning person (who didn't need to "bake out" for 30 minutes before biting off the heads of anyone who spoke to her). We were supposed to go to this amazing private beach and according to him- we were supposed to live happily ever after. Besides that last part, I was really looking forward to how things might have been. I just wasn't ready for full speed ahead yet. Maybe it's being in Mexico, too close to The Heartbreaker. Maybe it's me knowing that my true person is still in formation and I'm weary of anyone who loves someone with out knowing who they even are. Whatever the reason, I'm officially single again.

Cheetos, a hot tub filled with oatmeal, and vanilla haagen dazs with chocolate syrup are who I'm currently seeing. They are nice guys, and I'm very happy with them. For now.

"The New One"

Ok, I'll admit it, I have an addiction. I'm addicted to falling in love. I just love falling in love. Being in a latin american country, there is no dearth of candidates. The men I have met are some of the most affectionate, handsome and loving men in the world. I am just coming from a place which gives me a handicap for interacting with such men. Women from the states are told that if a man brings you flowers, tells you every five minutes how beautiful you are and how much he adores you- then you probably have him on the hook (and to yourself). What a silly notion that is. Ahh, the tourists never had a chance. What amazes me, are the women here, who have been taught since puberty how to cipher through bullshit and find someone genuine. Well, that's a little harsh. The Latin men I have known, in my very limited experience, actually are in love when they say they are. No bullshit. They just allow themselves to be in love with multiple women, and for no set amount of time.

Back to my addiction- I have officially fallen in love 3 times in the last 2 months. There was the club manager, the artist and now the surfer. (Notice "accountant" or "auditor" are never on my lists. What does that say about me?) When the surfer walked into my office this morning bearing gifts, he was affectionately referred to as "the new one" by my coworkers. Everything always starts out perfect. After the heart break of 2009 however, I have trouble maturing these infatuations into meaningful relationships. I adore them... for a few weeks. Then my internal cynic tells me there's really no future with them, they like me to much for things to actually be real, and points out all the similarities between these guys, and the before mentioned heart breaker. So, I end it. You would think that I'm better at ending things since I've had so much practice. Not so much. It all comes off as a variation of "it's not you, it's me", which is not comforting to either party. Even though it is the honest to god truth, it is me, there is always strings left uncut due to the highly unsatisfactory reasons that I give them. How can I convince someone who has fallen in love (along with myself) that the object of their desire is actually a broken toy who doesn't want to be played with anymore. Furthermore, that I don't believe their strong and supposedly undying love is actually anything more than a figment of their imagination and libido. It doesn't usually go very well.

The solution to this cycle of love/breakups might be to go cold turkey, but something in me keeps telling me to continue looking for... not The One, because I don't think there is just one, but The One For My 20's. Are you out there, Mr. Self sufficient, intelligent, handsome man who is also able to fall for me according to an appropriate time table? I need to stop looking and start teaching English/rebuilding my aunt's company/working out. Even typing that made me laugh, there's no way that will happen- at least the working out part.