And There Is Hope!

I was sent this today by my HR department. I am not sure how frequently I was "licked and groomed" as a child, so I am not sure whether this news bodes well for me or not. But - it is nice to know there is a possibility of avoiding the lunacy of old age:

"Some interesting research has been launched by looking more carefully at data on older people. We've all heard about how just about everything declines with age: muscle strength, memory, reflexes, balance, etc, etc. It used to be that gerontology statisticians were simply a little annoyed that the variation in these characteristics increases, that is, there is more spread in functioning as the average functioning declines. It made their graphs less attractive. Then some people said: "Hey, wait a minute. That means some of us aren't getting worse as we get older. How come?" That led to research with rats which showed that some "age successfully," and one correlating factor that has been well documented is their treatment at infancy. The ones that were handled a lot by humans, or groomed and licked a lot by their mothers, aged more successfully than average. Just when nice treatment no longer counts isn't known, but this observation does provide some hope that we can learn how to minimize old age decline. It is speculated that managing stress better may be one equivalent to being licked a lot by a mother rat."

We can hope.

On Nostalgia

"Nostalgia. It’s delicate, but potent.
In Greek, Nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound.
It’s a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone.
This device isn’t a spaceship - it’s a time machine.
It goes backwards, forwards.
It takes us to a place where we ache to go again."
- Mad Men

This is one of the truest, and most sublime quotes I've read in some time. It really speaks to me this morning as I reflect on the past. The older I get, the more nostalgic I seem to become, and it comforts me to know that I might not be alone in it.

I've noticed that there are fewer truly new, blank-slate experiences in my daily life. As the routine events and changes of life become more familiar, they become more and more loaded with meaning. A sunny day, the wind picking up in a certain direction in my neighborhood, the smell of the Bay in the fog, all of these sensual experiences are not unique occurrences, and more and more frequently these experiences leave me momentarily frozen, lost in the past.

This morning, it was the way the sun was so bright through the cold air, a telling sign that by midday it would be warm. All at once memories - of getting up early for coffee before senior ditch day, of early morning St. Patrick's Day drink-a-thons with my best friends, of summer road trips beginning at the crack of dawn, of waiting for the early train to go to the City - came rushing into my head as I waited for the car to warm up. Momentarily I was visiting lost events from the past, completely forgetting the moment I was actually in.

I used to get sad when I felt the twinge of nostalgia, but as I've gotten older, I've begun to embrace it as a way of appreciating where I've been, and recognizing past experiences for their appropriate influence on my future. It makes me wonder what it's going to be like when I'm old, and I've truly seen it all. When every odd weather combination, every sunset, every smell, and most of the songs are familiar to me, forgotten and remembered again throughout the years of my life. Will it be comforting, reminding me of a full life well lived? Or will it still bring on that strange twinge that comes when remembering treasures so long gone?

I am at least encouraged by this thought - that every day I'm alive, I'm creating the memories that could bring me peace in my old age. It reminds me to make every day count, because one day, these memories could be my most precious possession. And nostalgia, no longer a delicate and potent pain, my fondest and most familiar friend.

An Unfortunate Symptom of Maturity

There are days when I wish I was "more mature," and had a better understanding of "it all," and there are days when I don't.

Today is the latter.

Today is one of those days when I realize that gaining perspective and wisdom is like leaving Plato's cave - once you've grasped certain truths, it's impossible to go back to the naivety you so enjoyed before. (I've also decided that seeing naivety for what it is is a big indication that you no longer possess it.)

You age with or without gaining wisdom, so I still think "wise" is the way to go, but I think it would be easier to go through life learning nothing, so you can retain the high hopes, bold courage, and open-mindedness of childhood.

Not to mention, the more you figure shit out, the more annoyed you get by everyone who hasn't.

I think about all the drunk evenings riding back on Cal train from San Francisco, not caring who saw me or if I even had a seat. Or walking down the street on a summer's day San Luis Obispo, requiring nothing but a friend and a hidden pipe to have the best day ever. Or befriending everyone I met, accepting the motives of everyone as pure.

Sometimes I even miss the times that made for the worst experiences but the best stories. Or the times when I was surprised by the way a situation turned out, for better or worse. With age, things become less volatile, and better overall, but as they say, the sweet isn't as sweet without the sour.

I find myself living now-a-days with the stifling lens of experience. I know what I like, I know what annoys me, and I generally know what warning signs to look for in any given situation, what triggers drama, what missteps could turn around and bite me, etc. With this clear sense of how situations might pan out, I have a hard time understanding or excusing people for their ignorance about "obvious" things. And I have a hard time just letting things ride, because I can see a mistake or a misstep as it's beginning to happen.

This is making planning for Europe a little bit harder than anticipated, because I know what can go wrong so I'm going a little bit crazy ensuring that it doesn't, wanting to plan things down to the last, carefully organized detail. Wanting to prove that I can "do this trip right" and without making the sorts of crazy mistakes that are probably part of most nomadic journeys across multiple countries.

It leads me to wonder, is this why so many people become "set in their ways?" Because they've done things differently or let things go in the past to their detriment? Stayed up too late and suffered at work, neglected to be on time and missed their ride, failed to pay attention and ended up in the wrong part of town, trusted the wrong person and gotten their shit stolen? Can we blame them for knowing what works, and sticking to the script? Should we look at this as stagnant rigidity, or as an awareness of outcomes?

And am I playing devil's advocate right now for everything that's wrong in the world, or have I stumbled upon an inconvenient and unsettling truth?

Holding Yourself (And Everyone Around You) to a Higher Standard

In other posts I've mused about maturity, about finding that magic age when you're not old enough to be rigid and senile, or young enough to be an idiot. According to this article, I might be closer to that magic age than I think.

It turns out, you don't reach full maturity until age 25 - and by maturity, I mean consistency in the following areas:

• Decision making
• Use of appropriate judgment
• Rational thinking
• Integration of emotion & critical thinking
• Ability to think clearly about long-term outcomes that stem from behaviors
• Global thinking vs. self-centered thinking

I wish this research had received more publicity when it first was released in 2005, because there are many critical issues that should be viewed differently with this developmental framework in mind.

For example, what do these findings mean for the freshmen girls who bone down with 5th year seniors? How does this research impact young voters, drivers, or those 18 year old kids who run off to join the military? How does this change the way we view young criminals, especially those who commit non-violent crimes? Can we excuse them all as non-rational decision makers? Is this development time-line universal and all-encompassing?

What's more, I wonder how this research impacts my own life. According to Brain Scientists, I should now (as of November 2009) be completely equipped to be rational and successful, consistently doing all these things required to be a mature adult. It also has meant, in practice, that I have begun to see people who DON'T do these things as completely infuriating and immature. Which seems unfair, since only 3 months ago (according to the Brain Scientists) I couldn't do these things myself.

Is this part of growing up? That you suddenly have no patience for those who haven't reached the level of wisdom and maturity that you believe yourself to possess? And what does it mean if, after reaching the magical age of 25, you still do ridiculously stupid and immature things? Like make ridiculous threats in the heat of a stupid argument? Or purchase things you can't afford? Or get so shitty drunk you are unable to keep down water the next day?

Maybe reaching 25 isn't proof of maturity, but it does seem to be a place where you stop, look around, and take inventory of your life. That's certainly what I've been doing lately, and I don't think I'm alone. I just have to hope that I won't ever take my age for granted or assume that numbers on a time line will magically equate to maturity - because although I've "made it" in terms of frontal lobe development, I probably still have a lot of fucking up to do.

And That's How You Know You're High

Is it weird to be tripped out about the fact that if I live long enough, I will no longer own my favorite pair of shoes? And not only will I not own them, I will have no recollection of owning them, and won't remember to miss them.

It's as if we live a million life times within our time on earth, and all of them are filled with different friends, different thoughts, different hopes, different goals, different dreams, and different shoes.

If You're Gonna Do It, Do It Right

I got in an argument yesterday with my soon to be mother-in-law about the presence of old people at my wedding. It's not an issue on my side, I just have 2 grandmas to invite - other than that, my "family" consists of less than 10 people. On the other hand, DBo's Dad has 10 aunts + their husbands who are all over the age of 80, and apparently we "need" to include them and their old friends and family at the wedding. Oh - and apparently we shouldn't worry too much about having cool food because there will be a million old people there who won't appreciate it anyway. And we want to make sure our music choices appeal to the generations, cause they're all gonna be there. At that point, I had to resist the urge to puke in my mouth.

Here's something you should know about me. I am terrified of old people. Except for ones I know well, like Grandma P, my own grandma, and . . . well . . . that's about it.

Absolutely terrifying.

Old people smell funny, they don't know how to have fun, they still bitch about Kennedy, Ford, and Carter, they're often racist, they don't get my humor, they're shocked by anything current, they don't dance, you can't tell them anything, and, in a lot of ways, they just remind me of the inevitability of death. I don't want to be thinking about hip replacements, and caretakers, and lack of taste-buds, and widow-hood at my wedding. I want lights and beauty and friends and laughing and dancing and fun. Otherwise, what's the point?

I bitched about all of this to DBo, and he was totally awesome in reminding me that we have only been engaged for 3 weeks now, that we shouldn't be thinking about anything other than finding a location we like, and don't I have a Europe trip I should be planning instead of worrying about all this shit?

Very true, I just always envisioned my wedding being the best kick-ass party of the year, and I don't want to be reined into having this traditional, all-family-must-be-present event. I want to have the sort of wedding with the sort of guests who appreciate a wine pairing, know awesome music when they hear it, can taste awesome food when it's in front of them, and would love to get an invitation like this.

The Elephant in the Room

2 weeks ago, I got engaged.

The Ring.

It was totally unexpected – as in, I thought he was joking when he pulled the ring out of his pocket - and I’ve been on somewhat of an emotional roller-coaster since. I am completely honored (and surprised) that DBo wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and I know that I’m casting my lot with a really great guy. And I love him.


Some days, I feel completely giddy and stare adoringly at my ring, but then some days I feel unsure, and confused. I question the timing, I question his motives. Some days I look at California Brides, and tear up while listening to our favorite band. Some days I can barely get the word “engaged” out of my mouth. It’s hard to admit, but I don’t know how I feel about being “a married woman.” I love DBo, and I want to be with him forever, but joining the demographic that keeps RomComs profitable is a bitter pill to swallow.


I fear that the window of “you can live your life however you want, and be who you want to be” is closing. My fate is being written. No longer will I be an adventurous, turbulent, never-satisfied seeker. I will be settled - or so I will be viewed. I worry about being seen as just a half. I am scared of losing my choices. I worry about getting old. I fear losing the thrill of loneliness. Of self-reliance. I’m concerned that this time in my life will never live up to the hype.


My biggest fear is of becoming one of “those girls.” The girls who I mock. The girls who just want to have babies and families and who don’t have internal dialogues about pursuing the opportunities of life. When you get married, you have forfeited the right to decide one day that you want to be someone completely different. When you’re married, above all, your loyalty is to each other, and while that’s an amazing thing, what if suddenly find yourself staying at that job, because it’s close to your house and his work? Suddenly you find yourself maintaining the same tired group of friends, because it’s couples you both know? Suddenly wanting babies because that's what people do?


Today I am looking at my ring, and I love it, and I am so happy to be marrying someone as loving and honest and supportive and smart as DBo. Today's a good day. Maybe I just still need some time to wrap my head around the rest.

Open Letter to an Ex

You’re probably surprised to be getting a letter from me. So, let me start by saying - I feel like there was never be a good time to write/send this, or any logical reason why it would be worth it to do so. However, sending this letter has been on my mind from time to time over the last year or so, and some things have happened in my life recently that made me realize ‘it’s now or never.’ So, here goes.

First of all, I wanted to say that I feel like such a moron every time I picture our last interaction in my mind (what I remember of it anyway.) I don’t want to imagine what sort of impression that left on you, that I had become just another crazy drunk girl. I guess I was for a couple of years, so, there’s that. But, I would hate it if you thought that was the forever me. I think at the time I was just still angry about all the ups and downs and impossibilities of knowing you, and, a daily diet of booze makes anyone a little bit emotional.So, sorry for that. I hope you understand where I was coming from.

I also wanted to say that I think it’s sad that our paths have diverged so completely and possibly irrevocably, but I understand why they did, and to be honest, I don’t think I would change it if I could. But I think it makes everything that transpired weigh a little more tragically in my head. That is one of those problems that has no solution, unfortunately.

Most importantly, I want you to know that when I look back on our whole fiasco/saga, I am painfully aware that it’s both the most impactful experience I’ve had in my life up till now as well as the experience I least understand, had the least amount of control over, and feel the least settled about. Perhaps one is a function of the other, but either way, I don’t like the distantly sad, confused, unsettled feeling I have whenever a song, dream, movie, reference, etc, brings something from that time to the front of my mind. What to do about any of that, I have no idea.

It’s really interesting to me now-a-days to think about how different I am from the days when you knew me. I think I’m a lot better, which I suppose is an unexpected benefit of maturity.

I remember you saying once that you thought I made all my decisions with my heart, and now I don’t think that many of my friends would say that about me. I sort of wish I had had the opportunity for you to know me as an adult because I think I finally started coming out the other end of the most difficult years of my life, and I am embarrassed frankly, that the last impression I made on someone who was so important to me at one time, was such a disaster.

I wonder if we’d even get along, if we’d even have similar world views today, or if all the commonalities are really gone. I think they might be.

I guess I don’t really know what sort of response I want from you. I’m not even necessarily looking for one. I just felt like, if I was going to tell you all of this I better just do it, so I could stop contemplating doing it and get on with my life. I got engaged last week, so I am ready to be done with you forever.

I’m sure you’ve been able to analyze everything in your head and draw some conclusion that brought closure to the whole thing, and I say, that must be nice. I just hope you know that17-23 were the most difficult, crazy years of my life, I’m sorry for most of our interactions during that time, and that, maybe in another life there will be a chance to work all the past shit out. That would be awesome.

Anyway, I hope this doesn’t seem too out of the blue. Hope all is well.

On Aging, Maturity, and the Complexity of DVDs

So it's 6am, and I am trying to understand the complex relationship between self-perception, reality, and time.

Although my brain has been convinced that it's 33 since I was 10 years old, and the voice in my head hasn't changed much since puberty, I can consistently look back and see that my actions belied the maturity I thought I possessed. It leads me to speculate - if I was wrong about myself at 10, wrong about myself at 15, wrong about myself at 20, what reassurances can my 25 year old self have that I am not making an ass of myself on a daily basis? That my thoughts are actually reasonable and sound?

And that is what maturity is, I imagine. That day when the thoughts in your head mesh with reality as you imagine them to do. You hit the magical age when everything falls into place.

That thought is reassuring, but only until I consider the flip side - senility. In my opinion, most people over 70 (maybe in today's world 80) are completely out of touch with reality, rigid to the point of crazy, and win the dubious "Most likely to bitch about the Jewish/black/gay family down the street" award. They are also the most likely group of people to complain the world is going to hell, vote against money for schools, and take issue with the DVD player, in spite of the fact that DVDs have been around for over a decade, and are hardly considered "new" technology or difficult to use.

Is there a window of time when you have it all figured out? When you are a reasonable, and highly functioning member of society? When you are finally considered "wise?" Someone who can confidently go forth, knowing they aren't leaving a massive trail of fucked-up behind them? Is that window smaller than we all think?




On that note, this is my favorite picture of Grandma P. - after our other elderly neighbor backed her car into the front yard. Is this the best we can hope for after a long and well lived life?

I'm Baaaaaaack - and More EMO than Ever Before

So – after taking a year off of “blogging” (as if two posts from last year really count as blogging) to find my voice, I am in the same exact place I was when I began – stoned and voiceless. I have too many thoughts rushing through my head to choose a path, and an unparalleled inconsistency in my motivation. I suppose I can say I am much less stoned than I was a year ago, now that I am a contributing member of society. Other than that . . . not much has changed.

A multitude of crappy, boring writers have joined the ranks of bloggers to congest the Internet with their earnest, misspelled ramblings, so I figure I should try my hand again – at least I've got a basic understanding of grammar working in my favor.

2010 is going to be a year of discovery. I am finally 25 – an age that carries weight, respect, gravitas, etc… with absolutely no one – but I feel different than I did before. Maybe this is because my upstairs roommate is 80, but I have recently begun to notice that life is ticking by, and all that waits in the end are your own questionable odors, dead lovers and friends, orthopedic shoes, a constant need to putter aimlessly, saggy boobs, loss of social skills and street smarts – oh – and death.

Seeing the end of the road makes a person feel that they better seize the day while they fucking can.

Whatever the cause, I have recently developed a sense of urgency about figuring out the point of my existence, and I am ready to get down to business. Finding some answers, discovering what life is all about, and all that noise.

This blog is mostly for me (sorry to disappoint) but it’s also for all the people out there who realize that even if there are no answers to the questions we ask, we can’t stop asking them. For all the people who find ambiguity necessary and terrifying. For all the people who are bogged down by their constant need to make connections between the seemingly random events in life. For all the people who subscribe to the theory that if you can just experience enough, the missing puzzle piece will appear and the whole universe will make sense. For people who live for adventure, and who have a craving to know more.

This is what my ramblings are devoted to. So long for now, we’ll see where this goes.