Idyllic?

Maybe the big difference between our generation and those before us is that we've all reached the age where we have these ingrained ideals and standards of what we think our mate should look, act, be and sound like. Maybe the former generations married before the ideals consumed their reality.

We have ideals thrown at us- of what we should look like, of how we should feel about those around us, of what our significant other should look like. . .and on and on it goes. It seems like a never-ending death, really. I can no longer believe that standards- of the caliber that the other has to be this or that or all of the above (and I'm not talking core things)- are beneficial.

I've heard time and again from my guy friends how they wanted to explain to some girl they are interested in, just how much they've grown. Inevitably, they poke the girl in an often-sore spot and the conversation usually goes south. He ends up saying, "I used to have these standards and now they seem so meaningless. I used to think I wanted the girl that all my guy friends looked at, but not anymore. I used to want the trophy wife. . .You're no beauty queen and I'm no beauty king" or something along those lines. It's sad, really. He's doing nothing more than trying to explain how he overcame this hurdle of conquering what his mind and society has told him he should strive for and has finally come back to reality. What he doesn't see that he's doing is pretty much calling the girl fat, ugly and second rate since she didn't live up to his former ideal.

Talk about harsh.

Every girl- I think whether or not they admit it- wants to be told and even more, wants to know that someone truly believes they are unequivocally beautiful. Captivating, exhilarating, breath taking, natural. . .something. . .whatever the word they choose, it's a reflection of the core desire to be admired and noticed.

Regardless of shifting ideals, the conversation just doesn't need to be broached. Because, while most women are classy enough to never seem offended at this inadvertent insult, most guys never take the time to realize that our ideals have shifted too.

green eyes

i get embarrassed easily.
i go and read other people's blogs and their thoughts just blow my mind. not because they are necessarily profound or anything. . .just funny and witty and not consumed with the trivial things that apparently are what occupy my life. and then i get uncomfortable because i read their words and imagine their life to be so much better or at the very least drastically different than mine.
my blogs mainly consist of my rantings about injustice, my dreams, people, my heart, hope. . .nothing really funny or pleasant in it. . .just my quest and my life. . .all things trivial, meaningless in the end and devoid of humor. . .how drab.
genius, i am not. . .writing, i love. . .others, i envy

pity

happy birthday!!!

today is my cousin's 30th birthday! it's very exciting, indeed.
i wish i was there to celebrate with her. . .we'd probably go to carrabba's and drink their white sangria. . .
it's difficult to celebrate someone who matters so much when they live so far away. i wish i could just wrap her up in a hug and sit on her living room floor and laugh at the inane television and her beautiful daughter.
if we were sitting there now we'd be discussing my two newest tattoos and how long it's been since we've seen each other and how our families annoy the hell out of us and how we are so blessed that they do. and then i'd probably mention something about some guy somewhere, just because i do. . .and she would laugh at me and we would giggle.
you see, we have these great conversations. . .about life, love, God, disappointments, triumphs, mistakes, dreams, our past, our future, our family. . .and it's those types of conversations that make me really thankful to have someone in my life that knows me like that. someone who has known me since i was a wee bitty baby. . .who convinced me we were cool if we put her initials in sunscreen on our backs and strutted down to the pier (i'm pretty sure i was the G). . .who was to my left on the raft when i caught that wave in my mouth and regurgitated the freshly consumed traditional lunch of pb & j with lemonade at mum's. . .who was in the pool when i completed my first back dive and thought i was pretty much qualifying for the olympics. . .who was there when those canadian guys taught us how to ask if we spoke french in french and nothing else. . .who did my rad eye makeup for me when i wanted to kick it up a bit in high school. . .who tried to convince me i would survive walking through the ginormous school of sting rays and who didn't leave me stranded on the sandbar even though i was making a wretched, blithering fool of myself. . .who watched lady & the tramp and that other movie that i can't find the name of EVERY day of every summer of our childhood & adolescence. . .whose laugh is forever etched in my head. . .and you see, it's that type of history- & so much more- that encourages me on the dreary days when i'm convinced no one would miss me should i disappear. . .
and when i miss her really badly, if i close my eyes and listen hard enough i can see her face light up and her laugh hits my ears. . .and then i smile.
i love you, rachel. i miss you.
happy birthday.