Two-Faces
‘If you’re gonna be two-faced at least make one of them pretty.’ - Marilyn Monroe
Dreamers & Realists
“There are dreamers, and there are realists in this world. You’d think the dreamers would find the dreamers and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not, the opposite is true. You see, the dreamers need the realists to keep them from soaring too close to the sun. And the realists? Well, without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground.”
- Cam (Modern Family S03E09)
Inspiration In Front Of You
A friend randomly asked me, “What do you want out of life?”
I had to think for a minute. The obvious answers came to mind: good health, solid income, fall in love with my prince charming and have the perfect family life. Minus the picket fence, not a fan.
But deep down, what do I really want in life?
I happened to flip to my iPhone and saw a missed call from “Dhruva-Home” (the caller-ID for when my parents call from our house line). I realized at the very moment, the answer was in front of me (that and my parents probably just now realized I went over my data plan on my phone AGAIN, oops.)
I want the life my parents have, if not better. I want to love what I do so much, that I want to work hard. I want to have raised successful kids, that I will be proud of every day of my life. I want to travel the world once a year and take my family places that we have only dreamed of.
And as for love? My parents just celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary. I want to be so deeply in love that 30 years of marriage is just a number.
So, reader, what do you want in life?
It’s always the little things…
…from which you find the greatest inspiration.
The Lyrics of Life
While we haven’t found the science to create time machines, music has and will continue to have a way to transport us back in time and/or keep us locked in the moment. Music plays an important role in our lives of bringing back the good times, letting us remove ourselves from a situation or just providing any and all forms of relaxation. But now days, music has found a way to describe the current situation in our lives.
Let’s face it, all too often, something simply goes wrong in our lives to which we suddenly feel we’re in a stalemate. We’ve all been there: break-ups, fights with our friends, layoffs, car accidents, etc. We turn to music to find hope, solace or meaning.
Regardless of the lyrics, we will find a way to match the song to our current situation. Sometimes it’s a song that lyrically makes no sense but has a chipper beat such as Phoenix - Lisztomania to give us that extra bounce in our step as we remind ourselves, that what goes down must come up. Or in other cases, it is B.o.B - Airplanes that make us take to our Twitter with a 140 character emo tweet, “but why is life just so unfair to me? #deepsigh”
The problem is when we pick the latter song over the former. Life has a tricky way of being a constant roller-coaster but people have found a creative way to take one song and listen to it on repeat because somehow, only My Chemical Romance can understand how we feel.
Now thanks to Google, you can now search for a list of the 40 most inspiring and motivational songs to pick you up when you’re stuck in that rut. But in the end, it’s YOU who is going to help you move on, not Rihanna.
In fact, this is the one advice I give to any one of my friends going through a rough time in their lives: don’t attribute every sad song to your life because that’s not going to help you move on or forward. In the end, it’s probably the lyrically unsound songs with quick beats that will help motivate you to keep going.
Music serves multiple purposes, I firmly believe this. Sometimes it does help us find out more about how we are feeling. Sometimes it does help us get through a situation. But in the end, life isn’t a song, a sad moment isn’t a musical score. Music, simply is, music.
The moral here? Don’t let Green Day describe how you feel. And Usher probably wasn’t thinking of you when he wrote “Make Love In This Club.”
It’s always the little things…
…that keep you from being a survivor.
This Seat Is Taken, By Me
It’s been awhile since I last blogged, so let’s do this!
San Francisco, like most big (read: crowded) cities, is a place that thrives on public transportation. We have multiple modes and lines running in and out of the city. Hop on at one stop, 20-95 minutes and a quick prayer later, you’re somewhat safely at your final destination.
When it’s crowded, people huddle together with their music blaring from their iPhones/iPods while attempting to send BBMs even though we’re underground at the Van Ness Station and, contrary to what AT&T will have you believe, there is no service.
It’s uncomfortable but we brave it because in the end, it beats having to drive around aimlessly looking for parking. Then you realize you have to move your car in 2 hours because you don’t have the appropriate street permit.
I’m a frequent on the N-Judah; every morning I chase it down, hop on and scramble to find a seat. The only time anyone rotate seats is when a disabled person, or an elderly person or pregnant woman boards.
What amazes me is that it’s social behavior that created this unwritten rule for the elderly and pregnant. We find it inappropriate to make them stand on the car. And I love that there is some sense of compassion in people at the early hours of the morning. And yet, there are those who attempt to create other social norms that just make no sense to me.
One morning, I proudly snagged a seat on the N-Judah. A stop later a woman with a handbag, shopping bag, coffee and a BlackBerry boarded, standing next to me. Her bags repeatedly smacked me in the head as she tried to maintain her balance while texting and sipping her coffee. As I sat motionless but irritated, I noticed her looking at me, as if I was supposed to get up and give her my seat.
I didn’t.
My stop came and I stood up, ready to get off the car. As I edged around her to get to the exit, I heard her sigh loudly saying, “she couldn’t stand up and listen to her music?” I turned and saw her looking at me. The man next to her looked at me, shook his head and rolled his eyes. The entire 30 second interaction put me in the foulest of all moods because, in my opinion, I had every right to be in that seat as much as her.
So I ask any of you: where is the line drawn? Does this non-pregnant, non-elderly woman earn a seat? How about the father with his unruly 2-year-old that’s trying to unzip my backpack?
Maybe public transportation isn’t for everyone.
It’s always the little things…
…that make for one horrible morning commute.
People Aren’t Meant To Be Molded
There’s no denying the fact that most people of East Indian descent date to marry. We just don’t “do” casual dating. From the moment we are introduced to another guy/girl we are mentally checking off the things they have that we like and also making note of the things they don’t have, but we are willing to let go or compromising on. We judge but we’re perfectly okay with it.
And that’s fair. I’m all for having a mental list, standard, criteria, etc. Why make the biggest decision of your life by settling for anything less than what you really want?
But then there are those that take it too far. We go from, “well, s/he’s not [insert adjective here] but s/he does have [insert alternative adjective here” to the sudden, “well, s/he’s not [insert adjective here] but I bet I could change that.” Red flag!
Take City Slicker (again). On the surface, he met a lot of my criteria - and I was thinking I could be happy. But on the surface, I did not fit any of his molds. But apparently, that was okay because he had the notion that he could change me.
A friendly conversation took place discussing the differences and preferences of being a suburbs-kinda-person to a city-dwelling-townie. I felt comfortable saying that I simply enjoy living in the suburbs but enjoy going to the city and experiencing all it has to offer.
Fast-forward to a few more conversations where I suddenly find myself being barraged with reasons to live in the city, how they are better than the “boring” suburbs and (the final straw) how City Slicker was “determined to turn me into a townie, whether I like it or not.”
Really?! Whether I like it or not?!
I haven’t spoken to City Slicker since then. The obvious moral here is that you can’t change a person to meet your mold. Don’t even try to.
The funny thing is that I now live in San Francisco. And I absolutely love it.
It’s always the little things…
….that will never earn you that X on your check list.
Too Fast, Too Soon
I cannot, for the life of me, understand human emotions or what compels us to say or do the things we do. We try to be as rational as we can while making some of the most irrational decisions ever. There’s no balance. But we’re okay with it, we brush it off and tackle the next day like yesterday never happened.
When it comes to love and relationships, human emotions can be at an unmeasurable mess. The things we say, the way we say them can really make or break a situation. We, the receiving party, can sit there absolutely dumbfounded and entirely unsure how to respond or react (“What just happened?”).
In all fairness, no one has written a book to tell us when it’s the appropriate time to say X, Y or Z. So, we take a risk. A leap of faith.
And in some cases, we fall flat on our faces.
City Slicker and I were put in touch by a mutual friend. There were (and I counted) two phone conversations and a dozen or so text messages where we “got to know one another.” He departed on vacation and attempted to stay in touch with me via e-mail but I had long lost interest due to the boring nature of the conversations. I made my mind to tell him this upon his return, but he decided to beat me to the punch.
He came back and blew up my phone with an incredibly unflattering number of text messages and missed calls. When I finally got back to my phone, I began thumbing through the texts with the intention of calling him and using the classic, “let’s just be friends” line. I got to the 5th text and read: “I just need to know if you like me or not, you aren’t really responding to me.”
Awkward.
Naturally, I called my best friend. Is he serious?! Before I could even respond to his last text, he text me again, “well, I guess from your response your not interested.”
Needless to say, I texted him back immediately, confirming his suspicions and ending things there. I didn’t even have it in me to have the decency to call him. I still don’t know what compelled him to act that way, but I wrote it off as irrational human behavior driven by a whirl of emotions (I’m being generous).
The moral here? You simply cannot expect someone to like you after two phone conversations. And I really should stop taking up on my friends’ introduction suggestions.
It’s always the little things…
…that will keep you in the friend zone.
NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY
