The Math of Not Dating

My friend Eric is a funny guy. He's the kind of guy you would want to sit down and have a micro brew with. If you were stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire you'd want Eric there to keep you company and entertained. He's a good arguer, too. We have fairly opposing viewpoints on a plethora of topics; I am the flaming liberal to his mildly conservative. He's also a pretty decent writer. He has an easygoing style reminescent of Chuck Klosterman. His writing is often thought provoking and almost always laugh inducing. Naturally, I do not always agree with what he has to say, but I appreciate his point of view.

Eric recently wrote a blog entry taking a musical trip down the memory lane of his ex-girlfriends, and their numbers are many. It seems there would be enough musical nostalgia to make an anthology rather than a single album release. I can relate to this concept. I can hardly listen to Damian Rice's "O" without being transported to various London locales with a specific boy. My first (and only) boyfriend in high school introduced me to Coldplay and while I don't listen to them much these days, I do find myself thinking of him when I do (this is generally shorted lived though as I hated high school and rarely allow myself the time to be nostalgic about it). There are more songs than I can recount here that have meaning for me directly related to the various boys I've been involved with. But this is not the point of my diatribe.

My point it related to a brief statement Eric made at the end of his post, "dating is important". I could not disagree more and my reasons mostly boil down to simple mathematics.

Let's say my time is limited and I only have 24 hours per day. Straight away at least 7 hours of that day need to go to sleep if I'm going to be able to function like a normal human being. That leaves with me 17 hours, and 2 of those are usually dedicated to the gym/yoga/running/me keeping myself sane time. So for those of you following along at home, we're down to 15 hours. Now, on any given day I have any combination of internship, work and school taking anywhere from 5 to 10 hours of my day. This leaves me with a mere 5 to 10 hours for studying, reading, socializing and being a pet parent. That isn't much and if I have a minimum of 10 hours a week in reading/school work that means socializing gets a very small percentage of my time (I'm not real good with math so I can't give you exact numbers). So say I have a minimum of five friends in Portland that I try to see on a regular basis, a minimum of five friends I try to keep in touch with via phone or internet on a regular basis and two parents I call once a week. That, my friends, equals all of my time. Gone.

Now I know what you're going to say, "why don't you just take time away from one area in order to make time for dating?". I will tell you why, and it again relates to simple mathematics. In order to graduate from school and get a job to pay back all of my student loans I need to put 100% of the time I've alloted to school work to school work. Moreover, I need to give it 100%. To meet the requirements for graduation I need to spend 20 hours per week at my internship site. No wiggle room there. In order to live and afford a social life I need to work a minimum of 15 hours per week. So? Why not spend less times with friends? As it is, they are not exactly getting a ton of my time and at the most basic level if comes back down to percentages. If I am spending time with friends there is at a 75 -90% chance that I will have a good time. Sure, I could have just as good of a time on a date and maybe even meet the man of my dreams (probably not though since I don't even know what that means), but let's be honest, at best the odds are 50-50. And I am just not a gambler. I'll take the sure thing every time.

Excessively Sentimental Yearning

Last night I had a dream about a boy I had a crush on my freshman year of college. This came as no surprise to me as I have been exceedingly nostalgic as of late. That, and I am still Facebook friends with this guy and he's still pretty hot. However, that is beside the point right now.

Last week at work they seemed to be playing the greatest hits of Edward's Bootlycious Night. At first I was impervious to these lyrical throwbacks, but as the days went by the songs began to take me back to the days of bopping around without a care in the world. Except that isn't the truth at all, I had plenty of cares. But it is not the bopping around that I miss, it's the excitement.

When I was in college (and those few years just after) I made a lot of bad decisions. I thought doing stupid things made me more interesting. I stayed out too late, I drank too much and I wasted too much time with boys who treated me badly. I thought I was exciting and that this drama I surrounded myself with made my life more exciting too. I was wrong, I know that, but I still miss the hell out of it. I do not miss the drama, but I do miss the excitement that always seemed to accompany it.

I miss having crushes and wondering if a boy with call or text me. I long for the days when the thought of sitting at home on a Friday night made me cringe. I miss being able to make bad decisions and not worry about the long term consequences. Shoot, I just miss making bad decisions. I miss not feeling like I'm too old for something.

On a perhaps kismet related note, I looked up the definition for nostalgia on Merriam Webster and one of the entries was as follows: He was filled with nostalgia for his college days.

Not a New Year's Resolution

I am fundamentally opposed to New Year's resolutions. The idea that somehow because it is a new year on the calendar you will change behaviors that have previously been problematic is preposterous to me. Does is being 2011 instead of 2010 really make a difference when it comes to how many times you'll hit the gym this year? or how many cigarettes you smoke? or how often you call your mother? Be honest. No, it doesn't.

I gave up on New Year's resolutions years ago.

This year will be no exception, but upon reflecting on 2010 I realized that there has been one area of my life that is in desperate need of repair. While I know most of you are anticipating that I'm going to say my love life, you're wrong. (That will continue to maintain its position on the back burner of my life.) However, it is my relationships that are lacking and this is predominantly due to my seeming lack of ability to communicate. It is hard to admit this, but it is true. I have done a crap job of keeping in touch with far too many friends and family members this year, and the old excuse of being too busy just does not fly.

If you make the time you'll have the time and I simply have not made the time. Too often I sat on the couch thinking "oh, I should call so and so" and did not or spent too much time on Facebook neglecting to respond to all of those messages piling up. While I pushed myself physically to be my best, I let myself become emotionally lazy and neglectful. I let too many lines of communication grow silent.

For someone who has always prided herself on being a good friend, this realization has come like a slap to the face with a cold hand. How did I not see it coming? I suppose the how it is not important now, it has happened and all that I can do now is shake off the pain, hold my head up high and pick up the telephone. And hope that the person at the other end answers.

Give Yourself the Gift of Forgiveness

I am friends with someone on Facebook that for the past four years has been the only person that I would ever say I disliked. If I'm being honest, there were points when I downright hated this person. I could not stand to be in the same room as them and whenever their name was brought up I would draw back as if having just been slapped in the face. Slowly I moved from hating to strongly disliking, from feeling like I'd been slapped to slapping down some nasty side comments. I felt this was progress. I was certain that the closest I was ever going to get to forgiving this person was not cursing the very air they breathed.

Now, I know what you are thinking, why in the hell did I accept this person's friend request? Well, the answer is simple, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Also, I was secretly hoping that I would be able to witness this person's demise via an electronic medium.

No such luck.

However, what I have been able to do is move from blind hatred to apathetic disliking to simple apathy and today the train finally stopped at forgiveness. This person had made a status update that I had considered commenting on but was in a rush to get out for a run and didn't. I did however think about this update as I was walking home from the gym and for the first time I found myself thinking positively about this person. Not just in a way that I wish peace to all mankind, but in a way that I specifically wanted good things for this specific person. My pace suddenly slowed and I realized that forgiveness is not something you give someone else, but rather something you give yourself. I suddenly felt lighter, as if a tremendous weight had lifted from within my heart.

As my pace quickened I smiled and for the first time released the grudge I had been holding tightly for so many years. And in its place I let in light and love.

All That I'm Allowed

Every time I listen to this song I cry (or at the very least get undeniably teary eyed). Without fail. Every mother loving time. As much as I like to pretend that Elton's "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" is my life theme song, I'm pretty sure this is actually it. Well, maybe if the two songs were combined to make one mega song like "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding". Oh wait, I digress...

The bottom line is that I am so incredibly thankful for...

four spectacularly wonderful parents, including a mum who still kisses and hugs me like she did when I was 5, a dad who I admire more and more every day, and two step-parents who have patiently put up with all my shenanigans over the past 10+ years.

having perhaps the most fabulous big brother ever given to a little sister. Mostly I say this because he is funny as hell and I really like to laugh, but also because he is truly the only other person on the face of this planet who knows what it is exactly that I have been through.

every single day that I get to spend with my gram/every day that she is here with us.

step-siblings that I want to spend time with and get to know and "grow up" with.

being able to say I'm an auntie and watching my wonderful little nephews (and step-nephews and nieces) grow up into awesome little people.

friends! This includes, but is certainly not limited to, my Boy Bestie, my old friends, my new friends, those who have stuck with me as I have traversed this country and others, and those who have forgiven me probably more times than I deserve.

my family that are not bound to me by blood.

knowing that no matter where in the world I am I have friends and family who will always have my back.

the world's funniest, snuggliest, cutest, scrunchiest, most loveablest dog who is lying next to me snoring as I type.

being able to take time to pursue my dream...as practical as it may be.

my two strong, runner's legs.

my body agreeing to go along with all of the ridiculousness I put it through.

Lucy socks, Nike headbands and gloves, my iPod Shuffle and Body Glide.

yoga.

coffee, yellow highlighters, and Dragonfly Cafe.

discovering I love peanut butter.

having a job and an internship and going to school and trying to maintain a social life and training for a marathon and keeping up on weekly calls to my parents and taking time for myself and walking the dog and...

all the experiences I have had (good and bad) that have ultimately made me who I am today; someone I truly love and feel deserves to be loved.

living this adventure I get to call my life.

Love Is:

checking the weather of the city your loved one lives in, every day.

Every time I talk to my dad on the phone we discuss weather and every time he mentions how he saw in the newspaper/on The Weather Channel that the weather here in Portland was x, y or z. Every time, without fail.

It had never occurred to me until I was out running the other day that this means my dad is thinking about me. Every day. It is an incredibly small gesture, but it shows an even more incredible amount of love.

Then it dawned on me, all I'm really looking for in life is someone that doesn't have to ask, "what's the weather like?" because they already know.

Onto the Next One

As I begin to mentally prepare to physically prepare for my next marathon (Oakland, March 27) I have recently changed my desktop wallpaper and Facebook profile picture to an amazing photo of Kathrine Switzer. She's the first (numbered) woman to run Boston. She's a ballsy lady and she worked hard to pave the way for female marathoners. Before Paula Radcliffe and Kara Groucher were gracing the covers of sports magazines in their sports bras she was rocking sweats while nonchalantly running away from race officials. The lady is a true hero and I will think of her next Monday as I take my first steps towards my second marathon.